#but moments like these are just…chef’s kiss…tickles the right parts of my brain for the visuals and direction

[mangocharmer]

Meetup at the club - HEAT (1995)

[ali-da-demon]

MY OPINION ON THE SAGAS (3/7)

Ocean saga! (yes ik i havent done one of these in like a month but i finally remember)

Storm is a really good song, especially the instrumentals because it goes "dunun dununu dununu" or something that sounds like that and it just tickles my brain in all the right ways! Also it changing after he said "captain look!" for a moment and you could visualize them looking up at an floating island.

Luck runs out is probably my favorite song in this song tbh! I love how on some parts that eurylochus sings the crew sings with him, and it makes a lot more sense since Jorge said that his instrument was basically the crew. Also when ody snapped I was so happy because eurylochus needed to be put in his place!!

Keep your friends close has so many different vocals and sound effects that just make me go dkshagkikdhsfguid like dude who said that you could be that catchy? It also has a nice symbolism like "never really know who you can trust" also i do not like the "everything's changed since polities" like obviously it won't be the same, he lost his bestie. Ody dreaming about Penelope is so real. I would also be dreaming about her (He makes me miss her) and the end with "odysseus of ithaca do you know who i am?" was so silly

Ruthlessness is genuinely so good, like the beats and Stevens voice is just so chefs kiss! My favorite parts are "You are the worst kind of good, cause you're not even great!" and "All i gotta do is open this bag! What?!" I love it so much!!!!

@justalunaticfangirl

[beauregard-s]

Take The Wheel (Richie Tozier x Reader)

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader (aged up)

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: NSFW. Sex, Oral (fem receiving), cursing and light dirty talking. Also mentions of alcohol.

Anon said:  “ alright for whatever reason I can only ever think of Richie concepts but that's okay he's my boy :0 Anyway, So like a Richie x Reader smut where Richie is teaching the reader to drive in an empty parking lot and he sits them in his lap so they're both in the drivers seat. And he gets a boner and then car sex boom that's the concept ”

A/n: I must say it’s some *chef’s kiss* concept. I really liked this one, and had a lot of Cigarettes After Sex’s help to write it lol. Hope I fulfilled your expectations, my dear anon.

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“Come on, doll, it’s your eighteen!”

“I already said no, Richie.”

It’s been years since you both realized you were too big to share the old hammock anymore, but you acted like it wasn’t an important detail. You and Richie had spent the afternoon laying there, he previously napping and now smoking a cigarette while you went through a thriller book Ben had lent you a couple weeks before and you were taking too long to return to him. 

Richie had his long hanging down, foot on the floor and here and there he’d swing you both from side to side, softly, in a way the had your eyelids fighting not to shut close. 

“What are you doing when I’m not around, then?” He teased once more, and it was enough for you to softly hit his ribs with your bare foot, since you two were so tangled in such little space that your legs rested by his sides.

“You’ll always be around, Trashmouth.”

“Maybe I won’t...” He blew smoke through his parted lips when you shoot a look, narrowing your eyes at him from over the book. The little lopsided smile he had made your insides tingle. 

Next week you’d turn eighteen and, until present days, you had not learned how to drive. That’d be a result of very strict and overprotective parents, alongside a not so irrational - in your thoughts -, but for sure overscaled fear of taking the steering wheel. 

Usually, Richie was the one driving you around on his beat-up truck, blasting Tears For Fears, an arm slung out of his window. Sometimes it was Stan or Bill, Mike and Ben were busier but they were always down to give you a ride if you needed it. Beverly was a heckin' reckless driver, but she was the one who usually took you shopping and even Eddie had rebelled against Sonia Kaspbrak to get his license. 

You were the last “baby” among the grown-ups.  

“Come on, y/n, I can teach you. I’m the best driver-”

“Stan is the best driver,” you corrected.

“Stan is bullshit!” he went, now pointing at you with his lit cigarette. “And you shall never say such fallacy again.”

You laughed his fake offended tone off, but, yeah, he was right. Stan could be the most prudent one, but he was too prudent even for your coward standards. Richie was, indeed, the best driver. Reckless, but not too reckless at the point of almost run over people on the street - like Bev did at least a couple times -, also he was surprisingly skilled, but had some worrisome courage, for sure. And he had got a few speed tickets, yeah, but he always knew what he was doing. 

Those facts, plus the way he kept looking and expecting at you made you roll your eyes and break.

“Fine, Tozier,” it was enough for his smile to widen up “but don’t blame me if I shove your car through a wall or something.”

He laughed and tickled your feet by his side, what made you jump on your place and kick him harder than the last time, earning a grunt of pain from him.

“Don’t worry, toots. I got you.”

**

It was an empty and probably abandoned parking lot behind the library. What on Earth could go wrong?

That was exactly what you thought when Richie set things up the last day, but, now, when you looked blankly at his truck parked there, with its doors opened, just waiting for you, it didn’t seem such a good idea anymore.

“Richie...” 

“No fucking way, doll, it’s the tenth time you call out for my name, not that I’m complaining.”

You threw him a pissed look, but of course it wouldn’t do any harm on those mocking eyes of his. But you looked better at Richie, right there under the golden hour light. His dark curls messed by his fingers and by the breeze that gently hit you, glasses always full of fingerprints on its lenses, but not hiding his narrowed eyes due to the clarity. He seemed more freckled than ever.

All of that made you tingle inside, again. Had been like that for a while now, and every time it’d happen, every time you’d feel that weird sensation, you’d just turn away from his view, not that bold to face whatever it was.

“Come on, toots, it won’t bite you! Let’s go!”

He placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you to the driver’s side. You hopped onto the seat and Richie was so damn tall you felt you were miles away from the wheel and couldn’t even dream about reaching the pedals. He helped you adjust the seat to your height and ran around the car while you buckled your safety belt. 

“Fasten your belt.” You enjoined, the second he closed his door and looked up at you with expectation.

“For God’s sake, y/n, we’re just driving around the lot,” he scoffed, and you rolled your eyes. “Easy now. It’s no big deal, come on, start the car.”

Maybe you’d be able to focus and make your legs stop shaking, but Richie’s hand reaching for your thigh to supposedly soothe you down didn’t make it possible. And he stayed just like that when you turned the keys and the truck roared.

“Okay, now let’s switch the gear and loosen the handbrake...”

You had no idea of the amount of work involving getting a car to move. Richie kept instructing you and, for your disbelief, yes, he was a good teacher. He was clear as water when he told you what to do, and his voice went down to a soft and patient tone that made the tingling feeling hit you wave after wave. But even like that, you couldn’t put the thing on the road. The engine kept dying and you just weren’t coordinated enough to get it to move.

Richie and you switched places and he tried to teach you through visuals, letting you watch him as he drove around. And you really tried to. You focused on his hands but you wouldn’t absorb his moves. You’d just absorb how he firmly gripped onto the wheel and how skilled he moved the gear around. You tried to learn from his feet pressing the pedals, but your eyes would trail up to his sculpted side profile in the fading, cold light. How his lips looked soft, talking to you and dictating how you’d have to switch the gear every time the engine roared in en specific pleading way.

But you were fucking drooling over how handsome Richie Tozier was.

Before you had a chance to actually start paying attention to the mechanisms, he stopped the car like it all was the easiest thing. “See? Just like learning how to ride a bicycle.”

You tittered, not sure if you couldn’t keep up with all the steps on properly driving because there were a lot of them, or only because you just could take your eyes off Richie himself. 

“I don’t know... I mean, I think I just can’t coordinate enough,” you shrugged.

He shushed you immediately.

“No fucking way! You’re learning how to drive, and I’m teaching you, doll!” he raised his brows, his determination making you laugh again. Richie bit down his lip for a while, sitting sideways on the seat so he could face you.

“Do you want to sit on my lap, then? So I can help you?”

You slowly raised a brow and your brain sent off the red alert with a neon sign of “bad idea”.

“How messed up could this be?” You sneered.

“Not messed up at all, that’s actually how I first learn how to drive,” he smirked.

“Richie, you were ten, and no, pretending you’re driving isn’t learning how to drive,” you laughed.

You remembered that story very well, how Mr. Tozier would put Richie on his lap while driving around safe places when he was a little boy. But now this was a whole, dissimilar situation. 

Richie rolled his eyes, leaning in towards you, and you swore you were all hooded eyes at him. 

“Come on, doll, just like the truck, I won’t bite you.”

The red alert in your head went off even louder, but, still, with him that close and with the evening’s darkness engulfing both of you, your lips had a different plan than your mind.

“Okay...” it was what scaped through them.

And the way Richie smiled at that answer warmed your heart beyond what was acceptable. 

You unbuckled your belt as he pushed his seat back and even like that, fitting in between him and the wheel was a difficult task. You propped yourself up from the passenger seat, passing a leg over the gearstick to sit it between his. You both were a mess of legs and arms.

“Okay, toots, careful now-fuck!”

“Holyshit, Richie, did I hit you?”

“No, just my thigh. Big Richie’s okay...”

“I hate you.”

You managed to settle down to his lap, not too comfortably, but enough to access everything around you. To feel all of him beneath you.

“No way, sugar, you love me,” he whispered from behind, very close to your ear.

With a simple turn of neck, you could see Richie over your shoulder, and there was where he rested his chin. He took your left hand and placed it on the wheel, under his own. Your right hands together met the gear stick. 

“I’m starting the car now,” he warned. His hand left yours just for a moment, and his truck roared again. It vibrated slightly and that way you couldn’t help to friction down against Richie’s lap.

You thought you felt him stiffening up, but soon enough his hand was back over yours and he helped you switching the gear. 

“Now can I speed up?” You asked, trying your best to don’t look back at him, or else your lips would almost touch.

“Yeah, slowly. And keep those beautiful eyes on the road, toots.”

You did as he told you, slowly pressed your foot down the accelerator, and the truck slowly and finally left its spot under your riding.

You couldn’t help but smile. It was something really childish to do, but it was unconscious. Richie kept his right hand over yours, helping you through the gears correctly, his left one was supposed to guide the wheel with you, but as soon as he heard your giggles he let go, his arm resting lazily on his open window.

You only sped up to an acceptable speed to keep during a parking lot training, but it was enough for a breeze to blow through the open windows. You felt somehow proud, even if you have been strolling for five minutes in circles behind the library. You didn’t even notice Richie letting go of the bare control he had, but you were pretty aware of his hands falling down to rest on your thighs.

And you were pretty aware of the forming hardness underneath you. You could feel him, and every time you made a turn your hips would be dragged around due to physics causes you never understood while in high school. Every time that happened you could hear Richie sighing really close to your neck.

His thumbs traced circles against the skin of your thighs, right where it met the hem of your skirt. You were already relaxed back against him by now.

“I’m so sorry, toots...” You heard both a certain embarrassment, but also some guts in his voice. He was also pretty aware of what was happening, but you wondered if he was aware of the growing heat inside your chest, and the wetness inside your panties.

Or if he was aware of the way you “helped” physics by dragging your hips down onto his.

“Don’t be, Rich.” You muttered.

His hands went for yours again, and his feet took the place yours once had. Richie himself stopped the car and as soon as he turned the motor down you noticed how silent it was because he didn’t turn on the radio earlier, probably because he didn’t want to distract you.

But he ended up doing way more than that.

It was starting to get dark, maybe a little too dark. Dark in a level that’d be perfect to do hidden things and they’d remain safe under its cover. Maybe that was why you felt it was safe enough to turn your body slightly to the side, just enough to face Richie, and you two kissed in the dim light.

No words needed, not a single trace of hesitation because you both knew you'd been aching for this for a long time now. You parted your lips under his tongue insistence within time, tried to fought him for dominance. Absurdly unsuccessful that was. Richie had a hand through your hair, slightly pulling it so you couldn’t turn your face away from him. Little did he know you wouldn’t do that anyway. 

He was the one who pulled away after a while. You could tell he was smirking, eyes on yours, and then down to check on your already slightly kiss-bruised lips. He leaned in then, his nose softly brushing all the way up your neck, sending goosebumps through your spine just so he could talk lowly in your ear.

“I want you in the backseat, y/n/n.” 

You didn't know if it was how he sounded deep, or how he called you by the nickname that only he’d call you, nothing generical, but he made you whimper untouched. You just nodded and Richie pushed you off his lap gently, helping you to pass through the front seats.

You didn’t think car sex was comfortable at all, having experienced it in other guys’ sedans, but Richie’s car got some valuable space. It was enough for you to be dragged into Richie’s lap without your head bumping into the ceiling, as soon as he joined you there, kissing you as his life depended on it.

Richie smelled like smoke and tasted like mint chapstick and cola, and the way he held you so tightly against him was driving you insane alone. Slowly the darkness was taking over and you couldn’t see much of him, but you could feel him everywhere. Hands on your hips and crawling up your sides, underneath your top inch by inch. You couldn’t help to grind your hips down against his, earning yourself a low grunt every time you did that.

It was happening, and you couldn’t believe it. Richie and you've been friends over the time, but you’d be lying if you said you never looked at him in a messed up way, here and there. Mainly when you’d get drunk together in parties and he started to get extra flirty towards your horny self. And now, what you have fantasized about was happening.

“I want you down on me so bad...” You moaned.

You widened your eyes because it wasn’t meant to escape your lips like that. But it did and made Richie pull away from the spot he had been kissing on your neck, looking up at you.

You expected him to laugh or scoff, but he raised a brow slightly, lips curving in a way that had your legs weak.

“Don’t ask me twice, doll.” He mumbled.

Richie held you by your thighs before pushing you down to the seat. You propped yourself up to rest your back against the side of the car, ready to push shoes and clothes off, but he got different plans. Richie made his best to fit properly in between your legs, hands pushing your skirt up so it was lumping around your waist.

With no warning, Richie just pulled your panties down your legs, taking them off skillfully and shoving them in his pocket. With a smirk, he leaned himself down on you, drawing a bold lick all the way up from your slit to your clit.

You moaned louder than would be safe. Just the vision of Richie in between your thighs like that was enough to make you purr like a kitten, but the way he kept his eyes up just to watch what he was doing to you was top-shelf.

His hands were on your thighs, keeping you as spread for him as the space allowed, tongue flicking through your wet folds. And the motherfucker dared to hum against you.

“Fuck, y/n/n... How can you taste so good, doll?”

Your chest weaved up and down as you panted, a complete moaning mess. Your hands went for Richie’s curls, messing them up even more as he took turns closing his eyes to savor you, and then looking up at your blank pleasured face.

“Richie...” You cried out.

He pulled away for a second, thumb still rubbing circles on your clit to keep your pace.

“What, babe, are you gonna cum for me?”

You did. As soon as he reattached his lips to your heat again, you came by his mouth only.

Richie smirked satisfied at the way your legs were shaking and your eyes shut closed, still lazily licking you down your high, and as soon as your breath calmed down he was sitting back up, pulling you into his lap again, holding you so close you lost your breath.

When you and Richie kissed again, you could still taste yourself on his lips. Your hands fumbled with his jeans, unbuckling it quickly because you needed more of him. He groaned at your eager manners, immediately bucking his hips up so you could pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs.

“Holy fuck, Richie...”

You couldn’t hold it back when you looked down at his cock, fully hard for you. Richie didn’t praise himself for nothing. You felt like some stupid depraved girl, but Richie seemed to like it judging by the melodic laugh he let out. A laugh that quickly turned into a deep moan when you took him in your hands, pumping slowly.

The way Richie’s mouth hung opened when he breathed out heavily and the sounds that came outta there made you clench around nothing. You didn’t delay much before aligning yourself over him, slowly lowering your hips.

Richie cursed out loud, hands gripping onto your waist for his life as he threw his head back. Now you were the one observing how his chest went up and down fast, how he licked his lips with eyes closed in bliss. You had all of him inside you, every inch. He was stretching you out, yes, but he felt too good filling you up like that.

Richie finally looked at you, all hooded eyes and hands going for your shirt. He lifted the fabric enough to expose your breasts, mumbling something about loving that you didn’t wear a bra much often before attaching his lips to your nipple.

Your hands on his shoulders for support must have squeezed too tightly, but he didn’t seem to notice it under the loud moans you gave him. Richie’s lips slid from a breast of yours to the other, taking a time to kiss the valley between them.

“Ride me, doll...” He softly demanded, and you did.

You held tightly onto him when you started to bounce up and down very slowly, trying to adjust to him, but as soon as you picked up your pace the previously silent and dark truck was filled with both your moans. Richie was loud and it was something you expected and now his hoarse groans only drove you closer to your high.

He gave you a hickey on your breast, right before his lips escalated to kiss and mark your neck as well.

“How good you feel around me, y/n/n...”

You melted more in his arms every time he'd fill you up, every little nibble he’d plant on the sweet spot of your neck. You felt your muscles tensing, clenching tightly around Richie’s cock right before you came undone once again.

As soon as you reached the peak, your loud moans were muffled by Richie’s hungry lips on yours. When your legs went numb, he kept thrusting up into you, hands grabbing handfuls of your ass until he came.

Richie came moaning into your mouth, while you drifted away from your orgasm and your fingers caressed back the curls that covered his face. You could barely see him by now, but the few traces you could discern made you smile numbly.

Holy shit. You were in love.

You fucked Richie in his car, and now you were in love.

No, you’ve been in love with him for a long time but only now, when the facts were spread right in front of your eyes, you admitted it. Only now, feeling the numerous small kisses he was spreading all over your shoulder and collarbone, and how his cold hands cupped your breasts gently, only now you admitted it.

Things were silent for a while, while Richie had his face buried against the crook of your neck and you still cockwarmed him. You didn’t want to leave him, you were afraid that as soon as you put yourself together, he’d check you out off his hook up list and drag you back to the friend zone.

“I fucking love you, y/n/n.”

You still breathed heavily when he whispered that, but you immediately felt like your lungs stopped working.

You pushed Richie away from you, making him look at your face in the dark, although you could only see the little reflection of his glasses.

“What the hell did you just say?”

“Nothing, I-Shit...”

“Richie.” You were serious, and that made him bite down his lips, thinking he had messed things up with you.

“I’m fucking in love with you, doll.”

You kissed him.

The second he finished that phrase you took his face in your hands and kissed him. A long, slow, and breathtaking kiss.

Richie’s arms wrapped around your waist and his glasses were for sure getting dirtier touching your face, but he didn’t care about it and nor did you.

Only your lips parted away a few moments later, but you kept your foreheads together, eyes closed and hearts going a mile a minute.

“I’m fucking in love with you too, Trashmouth” you mumbled.

You smiled in a cheesy way and somehow you knew he was doing the same.

“Although you’re a bad a drive instructor who ends up fucking your learner”

“Shut up, y/n.”

You laughed together and Richie hugged you against him. That was for sure a not recommend spot to be parked at that hour, but none of you minded that. He was still inside you and you'd keep him like that for at least some moments more because you needed your legs to stop trembling and you also needed to feel more of him against you like that.

"Rich..." You furrowed your brows lightly, curled into his chest. "Where the fuck are my panties?"

He chuckled.

"They are safe, toots. And, by the way, those are mine now."

[notyetneedcoffee]

No Secrets, Part 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (???)

Warnings: None in this section

You sat in the car staring at the house. Your beautiful new prison.  

“Miss Y/L/N, you have an incoming call from Miss Maximoff.” The car’s AI announce.  

“Hi Wanda, so who called you?”

“Steve. He sent me the file and thought I might be able to help.” She was on the other side of the planet at the moment. It had to be the dark hours of the morning where she was. Still, she sounded alert and concerned. “How are you holding up?”

“At the moment?” You sighed, gripping the steering wheel hard. “I’m frustrated.”

“That’s it?” Wanda laughed. “I’d be pissed.”

“Yeah, that too.” You admitted.

“Try not to be too angry, though. They just feel like every weird, inane, and inappropriate thing that pops into their head is some how on blazing display now. They conveniently forget that I can pick up on all that, too. I’m just better at not responding.”

You tried to put yourself in Tony’s shoes. As much as you hated it, you understood his reaction. You may not agree with his solution, but you understood. Picturing the crazy stuff that probably popped into the team’s minds, and having to deal with it all at once might be a bit much to deal with, it kind of made you smile. “I suppose being around everyone would get kind of maddening.”

Wanda laughed. “It’s why I don’t do parties. I know you’re still likely to see some of them before this wears off. Please keep one very important thing in mind. People are not what they think. What matters is the way they choose to act.”

“Okay.” You considered her words.  

“Much of what people think are caused by outside influences, or old tapes in their head. Still, they choose to do different. Just like someone may be racked with fear, but behave more bravely than anyone else. There are some people who’s thoughts are plagued with darkness, but they choose to be kind.”

Sitting quietly in your car, in front of the big modern house next to the lake, you knew things could be so much worse. The reality that Tony really was trying to be as good to you as he could right now sunk in. “You’re wiser than your years, my friend.”

“Don’t give me too much credit.” She laughed. “There is one other thing, Padawan. Don’t fight it. It’s like saying ‘hey don’t think about a blue monkey in a pink tu-tu’. You brain immediately conjures the monkey.”

“Okay.” You laughed despite yourself.  

“I don’t know how available I’ll be, but call me if you need to. Whenever, night or day.” Wanda encouraged.

“I will. Listen, thanks.”

“Don’t sound so down. You’re probably going to get tons of sleep, be able to catch up on all the great shows, work out all you want, and not have to listen to Sam and Bucky fight over who gets to pick the music in the gym. Time will fly by.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”  

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thanks, Wanda.” You cut off the call as you popped the trunk to grabbed your bags.  

The house looked like a team from Architectural Digest picked the décor. It had all the conveniences of Tony’s smart homes. The refrigerator looked to be stocked by one of the compound’s chefs. A neat row of your favorite bottled juice was lined up beside your favorite soda and a stack of your favorite yogurts. On the giant bed you found a set of expensive silk pajamas and a plush robe under a copy of Anna Karenina. In the en-suite bathroom you found a tub big enough for four, and beside it a basket full of spa goodies.  

The cell phone in your pocket buzzed. Steve’s name scrolled across the screen.

“Hey.”

“You made it okay.”  

“Yeah. Tony must be feeling guilty. The house it loaded up with all kinds of gifts.” 

“I hope they’re nice.”

“I suppose.” You sighed. “I’d rather be home.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet.  

“Wanda called.” You sat down on the edge of the tub, running your hand over the fluffy towel.

“Good.” Steve took a deep breath. “I think we have, ah, some stuff to talk about but… God, I can’t do this over the phone. I’m sorry. I just… It feels wrong to do this over the phone.”

One of the generational leaps Steve never managed to make was his attitude towards the phone. It was a utilitarian tool. If you had something important to say, he felt you should do it face to face. You smiled, “I know. It’s okay, Steve.”

“Really?”

“We can talk later.” You gave a humorless laugh. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, Honey. I really am.” Again his voice dropped low, quiet.

The little endearment warmed your cheeks. He so rarely used it. “No reason to be sorry, Steve.”

“Well, you get settled in and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Steve,” You sighed. “Thank you for checking on me. You be safe.”  

“Will do.”

Strains of what you thought might be Verdi tickled the back of your mind. You stopped chopping the cucumber and put the knife down. The clock showed 12:35. It was still a half an hour until Bruce was supposed to be at the house.

‘Got to stay focused. This is so going to suck. What if she starts asking me questions? You’re going stumble around like a dumbass. Some genius you are. No. No. It’s going to be fine. It’s a short visit. I’ll be fine.’

Yep. Definitely Bruce.  

You munched on your salad as you split your attention between the British Bake Off on the television and Banner’s constant internal rambling. It swung from running down a check list for his visit to trying to remember the Band Aid’s commercial jingle.  

When the knock came at the door you looked at the clock. Only two minutes had passed. Bruce must have been at the street, or just coming down the long drive, when you heard him. Interesting.

“Hi Bruce.” You opened the door, popping a piece of cucumber in your mouth. “Hungry?”

“Ah, no.” He came in. “Thanks. I don’t want to be rude, but I’d like to just get to it. If you don’t mind, that is?”

“Why not?” You dropped into the chair at the table. “You’re just the first person I’ve seen in a week.”

‘Shit. Shit. Way to be a jerk.’

“It’s okay, Bruce.” You smiled. “I don’t mind, really. What do I do?”

“Ah, bring your chair out here. Then, ah, just let me run the scans.”

You pulled your chair out where he could walk around you. “Do I need to stay still?”

“No, I mean don’t dance around or anything.” He began pulling out equipment. He was internally humming the Verdi piece.  

“How’s the team?” You knew it would be kinder to just be quiet, but you were dying for some interaction.

“Okay. Staying busy.” Came out of his mouth, but a barrage of things hit you. ‘Cap won’t stop moping. Tony needs to cut back on the caffeine. I’m gonna go green on Bucky soon.’

“I heard you just got back. Some mission with Nat and Clint.”

‘What a dress.’  

“Ah, damn it. This sucks.” Bruce looked away from the device in his hands and deep in your eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I’m just afraid to talk about anything okay.”

You frown, nodding. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay quiet.”

‘Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.’

“You know what? Fuck it.” He sighed. “Things are tense. They’re kind of awful. Tony and I stick to the lab. Cap is walking around on auto-pilot. Bucky is fucking impossible. Sam is trying to play peacemaker but failing spectacularly. Clint came up with the mission just because Natasha and Bucky nearly killed each other sparring.”

‘I hate it. Hate it.’

“I’m sorry.” You twisted you hands together. “I don’t want everyone miserable over what happened to me.”

‘No. No. No. Fuck. Don’t cry. I’m going rip Tony’s arms off if she cries.’

“Not your fault.” Bruce sighed.  

“Bruce.” You lifted you jaw. “I know it’s not my fault, but at least if I were there Tony wouldn’t feel guilty, I could tell Steve snap out of it, and I could smack Buck up side the head. You tell them to knock that crap off.”

He chuckled. “I’ll tell them you said so.”

Bruce asked you some medical questions and took a blood sample after finishing the scan. He calmed down quite a bit, but still left as soon as he could. Later that evening he called you to say that the reading were consistent with your time in the lab. The anomaly would go away, it would just take time.  

You made yourself a hot chocolate and curled up on one of the deck chairs to listen to sounds of the evening forest when you got off the phone. It would be a long while alone. The sun wouldn’t set for a while yet, and you were reading a new book. Reading outside lessened the feeling of being trapped.  

‘Don’t care. Got to do this.’

You head came up at the same time you heard the motorcycle pull down the drive. By the time Steve parked his bike, you stood at the edge of the deck just a few feet away. He looked up, seeing you clutch a throw blanket around your shoulders, wearing jeans and an old tee. Steve looked you over from bare feet to big eyes.

‘Beautiful.’

“I missed you.” He said, voice low.

“Missed you, too.”

Steve stepped closer. “I’ve been thinking, a lot. There’s something I don’t think I can, I don’t want, to wait to tell you.”

“Okay.” You swallowed, fighting to hold still. So much, so strong, hit you at once. 

He took a deep breath, his large hand touched your hair, cupped your face. “I’m not sure when my feelings changed, but for a long time now all I can think about is how much I want you, want you to be with me.”

‘Those lips. So pretty.’

You felt a smile curl at the corner of your mouth. His mouth covered yours, lips gentle and soft. When your hands slid along his waist. His tongue swept lightly along your lip and was met by your own. He moan, pulling you close, kiss deepening.

‘God, yes, honey.’

BLEEEP! CRASH!

You both jerked away from each other in shock.    

‘No! Not now!’

It took a second for the realization to hit you that you heard a car crash. Somewhere close by.  

‘No. No. No. Dammit. Not now.’  

Steve looked at you, “I should see what happened.”

“Yeah,” You breathed.

‘No. We should go inside, forget we heard anything. Want to feel you again.’

“It’s okay.” He covered your hand with his own when you touched his chest. “I’ll be here when you get back.” You gave him a warm smile.

‘No. I don’t want to go anywhere. Not missing out again.’

“Okay.” Steve nodded, stepping away from you. “I’ll be back soon.”

TAGS

@asiaaisa77​ / @babygurl8840​  / @badassbaker​ / @bangtan-serendipity​ / @beautifullungs​ / @buchanansebba​ / @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ / @dsakita​ / @geeksareunique​ / @imma-new-soul​ / @jennmurawski13​ / @jesseswartzwelder​ / @kiki5283​ / @lbouvet​ / @michelehansel​ / @mindtravelsx​ / @morganhoran1671 / @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ / @notyourtypicalrose​ / @nova3312​ / @patzammit​ / @rainbowkisses31​ / @readermia​ / @rynabarnesrogers​ / @sammghgecko​ / @scarlettsoldier​ / @sebbysstangirl​ / @sexyvixen7​ / @sllooney​ / @thegetawaywriter​ / @theneuropsychwriter​ / @the-omni-princess​ / @the-reading-octopus​ / @thorfanficwriter​ / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @vanillabunn21​ / @vxidnik​ / @what-is-your-plan-today​ / @wildmoonflower​ / @wwe-fanfiction-queen​ / @sassy89sworld​ / @bitchwhytho​ / @carinacassiopeiae​ / @jessyballet​ / @killcomet​ / @steve-rogers-is-a-saint​

[ddearddigitalddiary]

positions: Stoned Favorites

OOooooookay. She did it to me again. It’s the fact that everytime she drops an album it’s at a point in my life that’s nearly aligned with the lyrics and emotion. It’s the same shit with Taylor’s works. Either that, or I’m a normal human being like everyone else who relates to lyrics and music and makes it personal. :) Anywhoo, Ariana dropped this album today and I’ve already listened through about 15 times from start to finish. No skips for me. I think this is one of the most beautiful pieces of art she’s released. It’s 100% the most mature sounding piece vocally that she’s heard. She said in her Zach Sang interview that this album she just wanted to sing more than she normally did before in her era of bops. And giiiiirl did she DELIVER. Switching positions here now. 

Here are my favorite parts and favorite things about the sexy, flirty, fun, vulnerable, gooooorgeous art that is positions by Ariana Grande:

shut up: gorgeous freaking way to start the album. LOVE the strings. Classic Ari opener imo. okay yeah, favorite part of the song is the strings. in the chorus on the second round when her voice does the descending scale *chefs kiss*. and then the fantastical disney princess ending faded/tuned out intooooo

34+35: *giggle* JUST GIMME THEM BABIES. this song is my first favorite from this album. beautiful ass strings and it’s a song about 69ing. GIMME MORE. i been drinking coffee!! and i been eating healthy!! you know i keep it squeaky!! saving up my energy!! *for sex*. favorite part of this song by far is this beautiful, sexy ass BRIDGE- baby you might need a seatbelt when i ride it, ima leave it open like a door come inside it, even though i’m wifey you can hit it like a side chick, don’t need no side dick no, got the neighbors yelling EARTHQUAKE, 4.5 when i make the BED SHAKE, put it down heavy even though it’s lightweight, we started at midnight, go til the sunrise, done at the same tie, but who’s counting the time when we got it for life, i know all your favorite spots, we can take it from the top, YOU SUCH A DREAM COME TRUE TRUE, MAKE A BITCH WANNA HIT SNOOZE OOOOOH. and then the autotune at the end is just cherry on top. 

motive: this BEAT give it to me MURDA. in the pre-chorus when the highhits come in, yes. and then into the beat drop on the chorus YES. whats your motive mmmmmmmmm. Doja’s little voice slurring up notes into her verse i just heard it listening to this and it was beautiful. literally music to my ears lol.

just like magic: OKAY THIS SONG IS A FAVORITE. using it to manifest moving forward thank YOU, 10:44 as i write that. love every single thing about this song. every thing. especially this bomb pre-chorus, chorus combo.favorite part is that white noise before the second chorus though. I take that moment to say a little thank you to the universe <3 - redesign your brain, we gon make some new habits!

off the table: Ari+Able=Unstoppable. The vulnerability here. I’ve cried listening to this song. Thank you for this one Ari. *not yet healed or ready* that part is me lmao. i’m waiting for the abel character to enter my life now lol that’s where i’m at in relating to this song... love’s off the table at the moment but i feel universe brewing up realness

six thirty: this one worked its way up to a favorite. i’m in loooooooove with this chorus and the beat behind it and her runs and her her note jumps and the harmonies. Are you down? what’s up. favorite part of the song - and maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be, i’m the release you the dopamine~ 

safety net: this is my fave collab on the album i think... they’re all tied closely together. But this song gives me a nostalgia vibe, a taste of like a darker, sweeter, richer kind of vibe. Her voice also is buttery and raspy and so mature sounding and it’s just a new song from her and a new sound from her. and i feel like right now i’m just entering a ‘new’ in my life so this is the one i’m relating to the most. I just click with it the most. 

my hair: and this one gives me Vulnerable Diva which i feel is a slight summary of Ari. not that she’s negative diva - she’s only ever the positive aspects of Diva. Icon. Pop Queen. The Moment. give me that electric guitar. favorite part is her whistles matched with the horns it’s too beautiful. i’m a sucker for some classical instruments, jazzy, concert. and the fact that she does literally a full chorus in whistle? EXCUSE ME?????? untouchable. 

nasty: again, grew to be a favorite. knew it was gonna be from the clip on insta though. every thing about this one is just cuddling and tickling my heart. don’t wanna wait tonight i wanna get nastyyyyy whatcha waitin fo. her voice and the lyrics and the beat and the chimes in the background. it’s a dream. the echoing. her vocals uggghhhh. *promise ima give it to you like you never had it, i do it so good it’s gon be hard to break the habit, you like a whole constellation, swimming like you on vacation, promise i’m still gonna love you when you wake up in the am*

west side: instant fave - again the nostalgia. I feel like NSYNC in this one. favorite of this one is just the simple “meet me on the west side fooooo me”. it’s that bass that’s making me feel the boyband. and her little ride on the beat on the chorus, with those harmonies on the ends of the phrases. just let me be in your life like tht, be your wife like that, i’ll bring the light right back, i’ll bring the life right back.

love language: when i first heard this song, that intro hit me HARD and good. this is another like throwback-y, i love it. the piano and strings, give it to me. ‘you the medication when i’m feeling anxious, that the kinda shit i like.’ AND THEN THIS OUTRO OMG YES. i ain’t tryna sign no lease, i’m just gon make you my home - intooo 

positions: !!! EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS AS THE LEAD SINGLE AND THE TITLE SONG AND UGH EVERYTHING. fell in love with the song immediately. learned every word by the next day just like i’ve almost done with the album now. the acoustic guitar on this one is strumming my heart strings. 

obvious: another immediate favoritteeeee - starting off with just her voice, genius. that beautiful bloop of a piano beat behind her voice. the plucking of strings on the pre-chorus and piano notes. i’m in love. the chorus is my favorite thing of this. again, the piano and the strings on a trappy beat is everything to me. that’s my aesthetic lol. 

pov: i cried hearing this for the first time. i connected with this song because literally this past week before hearing this song come out, i’ve been wondering so hard - “i wonder how people perceive me. what could my image be in their eyes”, and thinking about how i am from my ex’s eyes - my love. i’m in tears. if it’s as much as he says he loves me then i would LOVE to see myself the way he sees me because that’s the most beautiful woman on earth and everything to him. but then i’m sad because i’m not with him right now. this chorus though - for all of my pretty, and all my ugly too, i’d love to see me from your point of view... and the raindrops in the song, the sad song to end the album. very Tayla, very R&B lol. giving me love and basketball vibes. Such a beautiful song, such a beautiful message, so much love, such a beautiful closer. 

[koko-bopp]

Flirty Criminal — song mingi

*Pt. 2*

criminal!song mingi x detective!male!reader

word count – 2K

warning – mild smut | more swearing than normal

genre – cop and criminal!au | mafia!au

“It’s only for work, honey.” You re-confirmed for what felt like the twelfth time in the last ten minutes. Your husband was sitting on your shared bed, fidgeting with the non-existent dust on the messy sheets. You watched him stare at the fabric with too many caution signs flashing in his mind. “Hey,” you said softly, prompting him to look up at you from the mirror, “You don’t have to worry. I’m going to be wired the whole time.”

“I’m still worried,” He responded, still very hesitant to let you walk out of the house, “This isn’t some… This isn’t some teenager with rebellion problem. This is Song Mingi.”

You sulked for a second, fixing the maroon suit you’d only worn once. Leaving the first button of your beige button-up undone for aesthetic purposes. Your hair was gelled to your liking, wearing a piece of jewellery to complete your look. Also wearing the wire given by your colleagues, it was hooked onto your shoulder underneath your clothes.

To say the least, you looked pretty great. Very fancy date material. A look your husband appreciated, and so did Mingi.

A pout was sent to your husband, who was still dying of worry. You took a hold of his hands, looking at him gently, “I’ll be fine.”

-

“Pretty expensive place.”

Mingi winked, taking a sip of red wine all the while keeping his cheeky smirk. “Only the best for you, detective.”

You genuinely wondered if you’d be able to dine in a place like this, considering your paycheck.

Everything was a rich red, vibrant green and elegant white. There was white writing around the walls, unknown to you until a few moments ago that they’re the signatures of the most famous chefs in the twentieth century. Meals we’re perfectly set with shiny cutlery, glasses were polished to perfection and everything on the menu was absolutely mouth-watering. You couldn’t even lie, you’re impressed. You’re beyond impressed.

“You know, we could’ve just gone on a Starbucks date or something.”

Mingi rolled his eyes, picking up his menu, “Because that’s the standard your man is giving you? Starbucks?”

You pursed your lips together, hiding your small grin at the comment. It wasn’t true, it was just slightly amusing how quickly Mingi was to mock your husband. Mingi noticed the grin, provoking a prideful smirk from him.

Mingi put the menu down, clearly knowing what he was ordering. He leaned forward, “I’d recommend the lasagna. It comes in vegan or vegetarian too. So no complaints.”

“Song,” you frowned, “What are you playing at?”

Mingi smiled innocently, placing his hands under his chin, eyes pinned on you like you were an artwork to him. “Nothing at all, Detective. You’re reading too much into it.”

You chuckled bitterly, “Considering who you are, I don’t think I have a choice.”

“And yet you talk to your cop friends about how ridiculously good looking I am,” Mingi glared your way. He kept going when you couldn’t think of a quick response, “Don’t play tough guy here, love. I’ve got enough eyes and ears around to know that you don’t hate me as much as you like to substantiate.”

“Touché.”

The waiter came around with both your meals not even ten minutes after ordering. You tried to keep your behaviour as professional as possible, asking questions about his life to get as much information as you could; but you knew Mingi wasn’t dumb, he only went as far as talking about his day yesterday and present situations or his favourite things. It wasn’t boring at all, he was clearly a passionate person. Villainous, but passionate. Despite everything, absolutely none of it was useful.

“You know,” Mingi said, after a moment of comfortable silence, “You look beyond stunning tonight.”

You blushed, cursing at yourself slightly for briefly forgetting this was for your job. “I– Thank you,” You replied avoiding eye contact with him by taking a sip of your drink, “You’re very handsome yourself.”

Mingi chuckled, “Is that out of courtesy? Or do you genuinely mean it?”

You adjusted your sitting stance, trying to appear as confident as possible when answering. Apparently, you can visit a victim’s family to announce their death without crying but can’t confirm a compliment without blushing. “You claim to have ears everywhere,” You challenged playfully, “You tell me.”

“I think that rookie from the other day has a small crush on my right-hand man,” Mingi snickered, “He’s accidentally blurted out enough, I want to know what comes out of your pretty mouth.”

Now your face was hot, you looked down at your meal, smiling slightly. His confidence inside interrogation rooms was hard to deal with as it is, then when he’s truly smiling outside of the familiar four walls, it’s much nicer. Seeing a happy toothy grin was nice, him cracking a couple of jokes just to make you laugh was nice, and honestly, Mingi taking the man who’s whole job evolves around taking him to jail was just… It was just unheard of, even your supervisor was surprised, but it was lovely, none the less.

Your phone buzzed, you didn’t hear it the first time because you were busy listening to Mingi talk about his dog, but then it buzzed again, then again, and then again.

“Someone misses you,” Mingi commented, subtle but impacting with the underlying irritated tone.

You took an extra second to quickly skim over your messages. Two from your supervisor and six and counting from your husband. You muted your phone before putting it into your pocket, looking up at Mingi with an innocent smile, hoping a little lie will work, “Ha, unless you call getting spam messages from your phone company, maybe.”

He wasn’t buying in. You could tell. And it wasn’t because there was some obvious look on his face or anything, mainly because you noticed from all the interrogations that Mingi gently taps his finger on a surface when he’s impatient. Not the type you see in movies where they’re being rude, but it’s enough for you to notice.

You needed a quick bet away putting your glass down and carefully excusing yourself from the table, telling Mingi you’ll be back as soon as you fix your suit. He just nodded with a smile.

Bro, even the bathrooms were lovely. It had its own stairs of entry, a large large bathroom with marble and gold interior. You stood in front of the mirror, ignoring the few people who exited the room. All the cubicles were empty, so you took out your phone to properly examine the messages.

Wayne Haulting (Supervisor)

- [L/N], we need you to stop acting all cute and actually get something for us to work with.

- We get that he’s charming, but he’s also dangerous.

Hubby 💙

- Babe? Are you okay?

- You’ve been gone for three hours, are you safe?

- Do you want me to come?

- [Y/N]?

Hubby 💙 is typing…

The door of the bathroom opened, subconsciously prompting you to look up from your phone to the mirror before your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Mingi leaning against one of the stalls. He has a hand in his pocket, his gaze looking at you from the mirror knowingly. “Still need to fix your suit?”

You were going to say something, but his intense stare on you made it difficult to formulate a sentence. Intentionally staring you down like you were next on his menu.

And you weren’t going to lie; part of you didn’t have a problem with it.

Mingi pushed himself off the wall, bringing himself close to you enough so his hands were around your waist, gripping onto it with security, causing you to gasp lightly, earning a deep chuckle from the man behind you.

He dragged his hand down to your hips, bringing his face closer towards your neck. Your breath hitched and your heart thumping inside your chest from how close he was to you, and again, there were warning signs in your head, but even your brain seemed to be ignoring it as Mingi sank the tip of his nose and the slight flesh of his lips down the side is your neck. He pinned your hip bones forward against the counter, a soft moan leaving your lips at his forceful and yet careful actions. Mingi chuckled, from his gaze on your tender neck to your eyes that were trying to avoid the mirror, “There’s that sexy sound,” He teased.

You gripped the edge of the bathroom counter, looking down to avert eye contact, to which Mingi complied to. He began dragging gentle kisses along the pulse on your neck, his hair tickling your jaw lightly. You winced when he decided to nibble on the spot under your jawbone, the aftershock sending a shiver throughout your whole body.

You swallowed harshly because as much as you hated to admit the fact, his actions seemed to cast a desirable spell over your whole body. You felt the kisses getting harsher, more hungry and more craving-driven, which caused a few more moans coming out your mouth.

Mingi dragged his tongue up to your side of your ear, the smirk on his lips were practically predictable at this point. “Fuck. Just like that, Detective.”

You whimpered at the comment, a chuckle erupting from Mingi as you did. He didn’t stop his actions, instead enhancing them by turning you around to pin your back against the counter. You looked at Mingi with lust-blown eyes, much similar to his. He was proud of himself, taking the liberty to crawl his hand up to wrap it gently around your throat, you watched him smirk as he watched your lips part.

“You like that, don’t you?” Mingi snickered, placing his knee in between your legs, pinning himself as close to you as possible, a teasing look still on his face. He slithered his other hand up your shirt, over the fabric, pressing against everything except where you wanted him to.

However, only then you realised where his other hand headed. He stopped his tracks at the point of where your chest was exposed, you thought he was going to undo the best, but he only when higher; his hand stopping at your shoulder.

The wire.

He knew where it was.

Mingi chuckled darkly, staring into your eyes like he didn’t give you pinned against him. “I knew you were a naughty boy, [Y/N].” Mingi ever so tightly tightened his grip on your neck, not at all enough to hurt, but enough for you to know who had the upper hand.

He ripped off the wire along with the tape that was on the circular object. Throwing the thing into the sink behind you, the leftover water from whoever used it last was surely going to damage the thing.

Though you knew Mingi was far from done with you. He kneaded his knee against your crotch, a spontaneous action that made you whine. Mingi pressed his chest flush against yours, bringing his lips to your ear, “You know what happens to naughty boys, [Y/N]?” He whispered, the sinister tone able to break glass, “They get punished, Detective.”

And that was it. Mingi let go of you. You fell limp against the counter, holding yourself up from the counter as you snapped up at him in shock.

He stared back at you, the smallest of smiles on his lips. “I’ll see you around,” He said simply. You were ready to protest, yet you bit your tongue because he gave you such an intense stare. He turned back one more time before leaving the marble bathroom, “You know I will.”

[satonthelotuspier]

I’m a bit under the weather rn and unable to get out of bed. Using the time to do some work on the NieLan fic (8k in, getting there, ish?) between feeling sorry for myself, and I haven’t put anything out for a while. Therefore, have the SFT - Safe for Tumblr (but still a little spicy) part of the XiCheng cat ears fic that took over my brain based loosely on this post here. Full version (when I’ve finished it, it is not this day though) will go on AO3. Contains sexual language.

Jiang Cheng realised he’d fucked up when he saw the presents on the dining table.

Well, at first he didn’t, at first he ran through the list of birthdays, wedding anniversaries, friends who were expectant and so forth in his head and came up completely blank.

Then the date clicked in his brain.

February 14th.

Fuck.

He had forgotten Valentines day. And the worst thing was he knew Lan Xichen wouldn’t mind. He was too fucking laid back, too accepting of Jiang Cheng’s failings as a boyfriend, or, even worse, he had such low expectations of Jiang Cheng to begin with.

Had he heard Jiang Cheng come in?

Snowdrop hadn’t raised a fuss and run to him, so maybe they were out on a walk, or in the garden, and Jiang Cheng could sneak back out and head straight to the mall.

Even the thought of dealing with the mass of humanity out valentines shopping for their significant other’s was the lesser of evils when measured against Lan Xichen’s happiness.

He had just turned to walk back to the door and try and slip out when the excited barking and scritch of toenails on the wooden floor announced he’d been made.

Snowdrop barrelled through the house and over to Jiang Cheng to announce how pleased she was he had returned, followed by Lan Xichen who wrapped him up in a hug and placed a gentle kiss against his lips.

“Wanyin” he murmured, “Welcome back, we missed you”

“I only left yesterday morning” Jiang Cheng couldn’t help replying.

“And I missed you since yesterday morning” thank goodness Lan Xichen wasn’t sensitive about Jiang Cheng’s inability to accept tenderness without returning sarcasm.

“OK, needy much?” Jiang Cheng was answered this time with another kiss.

He was released eventually, and Snowdrop wanted another turn at his attention, which he was glad to give her, to avoid the inevitable evidence of his huge fuck up getting out.

Once Snowdrop was sated he could ignore Lan Xichen and the situation no longer; at least he had thought so but the other had retreated to the kitchen to make a request for dinner from the chef.

Honestly Jiang Cheng still wasn’t used to having staff, not that he did, they were definitely Lan Xichen’s.

Just like the majority of this house.

Jiang Cheng had eventually given in to Lan Xichen on the issue of living arrangements, the other arguing it was stupid to resent his money and for them to live below their means just for the sake of Jiang Cheng’s pride. But Jiang Cheng had forced the other to have a contract drawn up which had stipulated if, for whatever reason (i.e. Lan Xichen’s reaching his limit with Jiang Cheng) they broke up Jiang Cheng would only walk away with what he had put into the cost of their house, which was almost negligible in comparison. Lan Xichen had told him he felt uncomfortable with the stipulation but of course had had no other option but to agree, especially when Jiang Cheng told him it was the only way he’d feel any measure of comfort with the arrangement.

                                                            ***

The presents weren’t touched upon again until much later that evening. Lan Xichen had disappeared briefly with their empty wine glasses and reappeared with the two boxes in his hands.

Jiang Cheng swallowed nervously. He was about to make his grovelling apology when one of the boxes was placed on his lap.

“Happy Valentines” Lan Xichen told him and watched expectantly. Jiang Cheng opened the box to find it contained expensive spicy chocolates.

Something the Jiangs would devour but would be anathema to the Lans more ascetic palate.

Jiang Cheng forgot his guilt for a moment in his excitement.

“Oh my God, how did you find out about these? Wei Wuxian has been drooling over these for months in group chat” Jiang Cheng exclaimed; he was about to break into them when he thought better of it.

“I have my ways” was all Lan Xichen would reveal on the subject.

“I’m going to love trying them, and rubbing Wei Wuxian’s face in it. Thank you” he actually leaned over to press a kiss against Lan Xichen’s lips, and the other beamed like he’d been offered a blowjob rather than just one, freely given, kiss. Which, considering his complete and utter failure to prepare for the most romantic holiday of the year was about all he had to offer the other in return.

The thought sobered him and he was about to apologise when again Lan Xichen forestalled it by dropping the other parcel in his lap.

Lan Xichen actually looked a little giddy, and it made Jiang Cheng forget his own incompetence for the second time in virtually as many minutes; he pulled the lid off the box.

And his soul left his body.

He genuinely didn’t know where to put his eyes; he was fucking sure he’d never be able to look Lan Xichen in the face again.

As soon as he thought it his eyes snapped up, “Y-you got me cat ears? For Valentines Day? Do you want your legs breaking?”

“Don’t be silly, I got me cat ears. And you missed the cute little paw-print choker” Lan Xichen pointed helpfully into the bottom of the box. “I thought you might struggle to have a gift arranged with attending your seminar, so I took the liberty of helping out. I thought you might like to...” he gestured at Jiang Cheng.

Had his eyes bulged? He felt like his eyes bulged.

This manipulative little shit though.

“Are you insane, do you crave death?”

There was a delicate shrug, “I thought you’d look very cute, is all. I understand if you don’t want to” despite his claimed understanding, Lan Xichen managed to sound pouty; but the box was put aside and wasn’t mentioned again by him.

                                                           ***

“You’re a fucking idiot” Jiang Cheng told himself later, as he stood in front of the vanity mirror in the bathroom.

Lan Xichen had taken a call from his uncle about bank business and Jiang Cheng had used the opportunity to grab the forgotten gift box and sequester himself in the en suite.

Was he really going to allow himself to be manipulated into this?

He was sure the embarrassment would make him squirm for years to come if he did.

He looked down at the cat ear headband in his hands, then back at the mirror.

He was more than a little tempted to just throw them straight into the bin, but the soft, sulky look on Lan Xichen’s face earlier had tickled his sense of guilt. Of course the other looked gorgeous even in his petulance, and he wasn’t by nature a sullen creature, so Jiang Cheng was fully aware it was all skin deep for the purpose of manoeuvring him into giving in and wearing the cursed objects; unfortunately his body was unable to build up the immunity required to protect against Lan Xichen.

He supposed he should just be thankful there was no butt-plug tail…

He let out a long, heartfelt sigh, placed the ears to one side and reached for the choker.

                                                             ***

He supposed the sexier thing to do would have been to strip naked, or at least take his t-shirt off, but he was fucked if he was going to make it even more embarrassing for himself. Therefore he was still fully clothed in his dark jeans and white v-neck t-shirt when he heard Lan Xichen enter the bedroom.

He wavered at the bathroom door for several seconds, his face a beacon of flushed self-consciousness.

He knew if he left it any longer he’d bottle it, and it would render the most embarrassing part of actually putting the accessories on and seeing himself in the mirror, moot, so he sucked in a quick, steadying breath and walked out into the bedroom.

He definitely couldn’t meet Lan Xichen’s gaze now though.

He looked determinedly at the floor as Lan Xichen turned to him.

He heard the sucked in breath, “Wanyin” the other’s voice was delighted and he expected to be crowded by Lan Xichen; either hugged or kissed. Instead he heard the double click of a mobile taking pictures.

His temper overtook his embarrassment, his eyes flared as they rose to take in Lan Xichen holding his phone.

He leapt forward, intending to take the mobile off Lan Xichen with a snarled; “You asshole”

Lan Xichen was so much faster though, and quicker than Jiang Cheng could react he caught Jiang Cheng’s wrists and used his attacking momentum to overbalance him and send them both down to the mattress. Jiang Cheng’s wrists were pinned to the bed and the offending mobile had vanished out of sight.

“You can delete the pictures later, I promise” Lan Xichen said as he looked down into Jiang Cheng’s incensed face.

“Why not now, asshole?” he swore he wasn’t going to give the other the satisfaction of pulling on his wrists, but he couldn’t help it and he ended up trying to twist his body beneath Lan Xichen; who of course greatly enjoyed the friction.

“Because I quite like you where you are right now, A-Cheng. Such a hissing, spitting kitten” Lan Xichen mocked, keeping out of biting range, but Jiang Cheng had begun to calm down as soon as he realised Lan Xichen had enacted the whole scenario to make him forget his embarrassment.

“Such a spoiled little prince, manoeuvring to get his own way all the time” Jiang Cheng snapped up at Lan Xichen, whose eyes shone with amusement.

“Let me show you the benefit of being with a spoiled prince who always gets his own way then; if I petted you nicely, would you purr for me?”

“So fucking shameless. How thick is your face that you can spout such rubbish constantly?”

“It’s a good thing we don’t both have a thin face, A-Cheng” Lan Xichen took a chance and leaned down to nuzzle at Jiang Cheng’s jawline; when the other didn’t react negatively he followed it’s line with a trail of gentle kisses, before capturing Jiang Cheng’s mouth, his own firm and possessive.

[chilly-me-softly]

Coparents (Part 2) • Ben Chilwell

I enjoyed so much writing this and I hope you like it too. You can read part one here if you haven’t already done it, and I may or may not write even a part 3 if you like the idea x -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Daddy, mommy and I made cookies" the little one screams excitedly as he sees Ben on the threshold. 

"I see buddy" he chuckles as he enters the kitchen and goes to leave a kiss on his son's head full of what he hopes is flour.

"Yeah and we lost track of time" she apologizes and then turned to the little one "Come on, shower. Dad is here for you" she made him get off the counter and the baby started running up the stairs.

"I'll be right there, don't touch anything!" she screams in vain knowing that as soon as the baby goes away with Ben she will have to clean up beyond the kitchen, even the bathroom and his bedroom.

"Sorry" she sighs, moving the last dirty bowls into the sink and checking the oven.

"It's okay, I'm not in a hurry" he says, approaching her and when she turns around, she finds him a few steps away from her.

"You have flour everywhere" he chuckles as he reaches for the duster on the counter.

"Yeah, Ryan isn't so reliable as an assistant chef"

"Like me" he gently wipes the cloth on her cheek and for a moment they look at each other's eyes. Then she recovers from her trans and quickly moves away from his touch, "I-I have to go check on Ryan"

He watches her disappear quickly and sighs. He remembers when in that situation, covered with flour, there were them a few years earlier. She had always had a passion for cooking, especially for baking, and he always offered to try her creations because let's say it who would ever give up sweets. But there were moments when she convinced him to get on the other side of the counter with her and become her helper, even knowing he would do more damage than actual helping. The time always came when she was distracted and he took the opportunity to throw her a handful of flour, triggering a war that ended with a yell for the waste of food from her mother -and also from his mother who immediately received a phone call-. But their goal was to have fun and as long as they succeeded there was no lecture that held.

Fifteen minutes later more or less he hears little steps hurrying down the stairs and immediately afterwards the little one runs towards him.

"Don't run down the stairs" he reminds him, taking him in his arms as the baby settles better on his chest, probably going to sleep soon.

(Y/N) goes down behind him still dirty with flour in her hair and with a water stain on the shirt -the bright side of bathing a hyperactive child-, with her she carries the backpack with Ryan's toys posing it on the kitchen island.

"I turned the oven off, I think they're ready" he lets her know, rocking the baby in his arms slightly back and forth.

"Hmm thank you, I've forgotten about it" she shakes her head as she heads towards the oven, "I'll put someone in a container, is it okay?" he nods.

"Cookies" the baby murmurs sleepily making him giggle and leaves a kiss on his head.

While she prepares everything, she informs him of something in particular that happened in those days that he must be aware of and he makes sure that Ryan has prepared everything this time because only he knows what happened the previous time when he had to drive to her house at three in the morning because he had forgotten Mr. Gigi, the stuffed bear he sleeps with. The child wanted to prepare the bag by himself because he was now a big man and obviously she had taken it for granted that something so important would be inserted first in the backpack. Well, this time she had personally seen with her own eyes the child had actually taken it and had ascertained further by going down the stairs minutes before.

So with everything he needs ready, Ben decides it's time to go and she helps him get everything to the car as Ryan has finally fallen asleep. He gently rests him in place by fastening his belt, while she places her backpack and biscuits at his side leaning out just enough to leave him a slight kiss on his forehead.

"Thanks for keeping him a day early anyway"

"Not a problem, really"

"And don't let him sleep too much otherwise he won't sleep tonight" she advises, closing the car door gently.

“Don't worry, give him the ride to my house and he will be fresh as a daisy” he can spot his own child. Then comes the moment of greetings that turns into an embarrassing moment when both of them turn to the same side and their lips almost touch each other. With a short hug, and even more embarrassment in the air, they say goodbye definitively and she almost runs to lock herself in the house not even waiting to see them go away as she usually does.

*

"I think she's dating someone" Ben turns around and looks at his friend in confusion. He and James are watching one of those junk shows on TV now that Ryan was finally asleep and just wanted to unplug his brain, not think about things too adults or for children for a few hours. "Who?" so he sighs and asks.

"(Y/N)" he replies as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"What? Why do you think that?" suddenly he finds himself very interested in the conversation and leans forward, a grin born on James's face.

"Well she's happier lately, always with a smile on her face and has changed haircut"

"That's it?" he mocks, "a change of hairstyle and we cry scandal?!" the boy comes back to lean on the back of the sofa.

"Everybody knows that when a girl changes her hairstyle, a change is underway, Ben" he tells him with a wisdom.

"Whatever you say" Ben murmurs returning to focus on the figures on the screen.

“We'll see at the wedding, maybe she will show up with someone" continues the blond next to him, but Ben is already lost in his thoughts. She asked him to pick up Ryan a day in advance and he didn't bother to ask her what she had to do, convinced something had come up at work. But now that he has the idea in his mind, he couldn't help but think about that possibility. It was well known that Ryan doesn't know how to shut up though, and he would surely have told him if (Y/N) had introduced someone to him or at least before taking such an important step she was the one who had to let him. He was still his son too after all.

Who’s he kidding, it's not because of the little monster sleeping upstairs that he feels what he feels. As if his throat could close at any moment just at the thought of her with someone else. He is almost 25 years old and has fallen in love with his son's mother. He swore that their relationship would not change over the years, and yet something had happened. His way of looking at her had changed, every smile directed at him was like a punch straight to the stomach, every touch was exactly as the first one. And for months now he had been rejecting that strange feeling, the desire to hold her close to himself and smell her scent. And that feeling of discomfort in the pit of the stomach when James spoke of a possible man was not accidental. Jealousy. He was fucked, he knew it too well.

*

"Daddy, mommy is beautiful, isn't she?" exclaims the child in his arms with a huge smile that highlights the small hole he has between his upper teeth. She wears a long burgundy dress that looks great on her and has slightly wavy hair, dropped on her shoulders.

"Yes love, she's really beautiful" he answers without breaking eye contact with her. Certainly he cannot tell his son and the group of people around them what he thought when he firstly saw her. Damn, he seems to be back as a teenager when he seemed to have a crush on every female person he met. With the difference that this is not a temporary crush, but a real flame that is consuming him inside.

She looks down imperceptibly before smiling and answering that even the two boys in front of her are not bad at all, stretching an arm to tickle a sensitive area of the child and making him giggle. Then in an instant, his attention is caught by Jamie and he asks his father to put him down to run by him. Leaving Ben, (Y/N), James and some other team mates alone.

"The brat is right, you look great" says James sincerely before taking a sip of whatever he has in his glass.

"Thank you" she smiles, accepting the glass of sparkling wine Ben is offering her.

"So you came alone?" if a look could kill, James would be dead and buried at that moment.

"Well no, Ryan and I are one for years now as you know. With whom else should I have come?!" she laughs at him and Ben really hopes that no one has noticed how he loosens his tie after that answer.

"So you're single?"

"James, maybe it's better if you put that glass down" he replies making a face. She is confused by the sudden worry with her love life, but doesn't have time to think about it so much that the bride and groom make their entrance into the room and the attention is captured by them.

  A few hours later they are all sitting around a table enjoying the great food and company, making small talks. Ryan has long been asleep on (Y/N) that between a chat and another caresses his back distractedly and is actually surprised how he can sleep with all that noise.

"Oh I like this song!" she rocks slightly to the rhythm. The first dance between the bride and the groom had taken place before, so the dance floor is at the complete disposal of the guests.

"Do you wanna dance?" she looks up from the little one on her lap and finds Ben's gaze on her, the tie has been removed soon after the first course and the jacket is on his arm. There had been an elbow from James who had pushed him to step up, but better than nothing.

"Wh-what?" she questions taken aback.

"Come on" he shrugs his shoulders as he reaches for her and gestures for her to stand up. She is about to point out the existence of their son on her when James comes out with open arms, ready to take his sleeping nephew with him.

"Come to Uncle James'" he murmurs, placing him in his arms even though the child can't hear him.

So after a last caress to the child she accepts Ben's hand, which has since put the jacket back on, and the two set off for a corner of the dance floor.

"When was the last time we danced together?" she asked absently, placing her arms around the boy's neck and standing at his height. The heels put on for the occasion earned her a few centimetres. His hands automatically on her waist.

"I don't know, but we certainly wouldn't have danced like that" he chuckles.

"We're parents now" just a look between the two to burst out laughing, she throws her head back and when she returns to her place she finds Ben's face a few inches from hers.

"Ben" she mutters, suddenly all the hilarity is gone.

"Believe me if we weren't where we are I would kiss you here and now" the grip on her waist becomes stronger, as if from one moment to the other she can escape.

"Ben" seems to be the only thing capable of saying as she continues to watch him, the song seems to last for an eternity. "We cannot"

"Why? Give me a valid reason" he pleads her, his gaze moves from her eyes to her lips in expectation.

But the answer doesn't arrive because finally the song ends and she hastens to leave the dance floor. And he follows her, determined not to waste his chance. Ryan, their friends or the years of friendship do not exist for a moment. He knows he could never allow their relationship to disintegrate, but it's time to stop running around in circle and face the fact that their friendship has eventually become something more.

He goes out into the garden attached to the restaurant and finds her leaning against the railing, intent on looking at the view lost in her thoughts. Approaching her he notices she is shaking because of the slight breeze and is quick to take off his jacket again to place it on her shoulders. She gasps imperceptibly but doesn't turn to look at him and he sighs.

"I don't want to give Ryan false hope" she murmurs after a while.

"(Y/N) look at me" and she does it not at all convinced however that it's the best thing to do at that moment, "Don't use our son as an excuse" and those words strike her like a stab. The truth is that she never stopped to think about those new sensations she felt when she was simply in his company or even when she thought about him. And she had never seriously fallen in love, she had had Ryan in her twenties and from there she automatically thought that no one would ever look at her once they knew she had a baby. So she had simply locked up the part involving relationships and meeting new people in a remote corner of her brain, telling herself her son's love would be enough.

"Marriage effect" she curses herself as soon as she says those words. And she doesn't have time to do anything because he rolls his eyes grabbing her by his jacket and kissing her. It's a small peck that, however, sends both into ecstasy.

"You said stupid things in your life, but this one surpasses them all" he chuckles once he breaks away, still a few inches from her.

She clears the distances again and leaves a small kiss on his lips, and they are forced to break away because they smile so much that kissing is almost impossible. "Okay" she murmurs, clutching his jacket and he looks at her in confusion.

"Okay, I'll give us a chance"

"But" she smiles, he knows her too well.

"But this remains between us, no one has to know for the moment. I don't want too many expectations if things don't go well” he nods, he could agree every little condition in that moment because he is convinced they are meant to be. I’m so fucked up. "Nobody Ben. And that means being careful about Ryan"

"We will do whatever you want, but now kiss me"

 Part 3

[lihikainanea]

Ohhhh, BFF!Bill you soft sweet giant. How I do love you so. This one is fluffy. I needed BFF!Bill to be fluffy. Because let’s face it--I don’t know about you all--but I have never had a good morning after. It’s usually filled with awkward stares or wrong-name-calling or both. But BFF!Bill? Nah uh, you ain’t getting away with that, tiger.

Part 1+2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

As always, fueled by that nani ask to @ill-skillsgard in Parts 1 +2. Bless you nani. Bless.

***

It was the warmth that woke you, first. The heat radiating like a furnace all around you, enveloping you, beckoning you to stay in your semi-conscious state. You would have thought nothing of it, but the feeling when you stirred--that sharp pain in your spine, the pinched nerve in your shoulder, the ache between your legs--tipped you off in remembering that this morning was something...slightly out of the ordinary.

The contact wasn’t abnormal for you. You usually shared a bed whenever one of you slept over at the other’s because it was just easier and neither one of you were really concerned at how you’d wake up like a koala around him, or how all of his long limbs had somehow locked themselves around you.  But something felt different this morning, the heavy weight around your ribcage, the sturdy legs tucked up under yours, the broad chest at your back. His lips were at your shoulder, his nose tucked up towards your neck, and you wondered how he could even breathe with the mop of your hair surrounding his face. But his rhythmic breaths, warm puffs on your shoulder, let you know he was out cold.

You peeled your eyes open, willing the fog in your brain to clear, as you took in your surroundings. Bill’s arm was tucked solidly around you, coming up between your breasts and his hand near your face. You realized now, somewhat confused and rather embarrassed, that his thumb was resting snugly in your mouth. You groaned, reaching up to gently remove it and depositing his hand back on the pillow.  You didn’t know what to do. You knew that you had promised--you both had promised--that things wouldn’t get weird between you. But you had no idea. You didn’t know that when your best friend, this gigantic tower of a man who was the softest and gentlest human you had ever known, had offered to help you with your predicament--you didn’t know that he in turn would give you the best sex of your life. Sex that had you feeling like you got hit by a truck, but that still had your body buzzing and humming happily from releases--multiple releases--that were so intense.

You didn’t know what to do, but you knew one thing: you had to go. You had to go, now, and you would figure out the rest later. You chalked it up to routine, there was nothing unusual about you splitting after a one night stand. Bill knew this.  He’d laughed at the scrape on your brow, the branches in your hair, when you’d met him for brunch after one rousing morning-after that had you escaping via a window and landing in a thorny bush. Bill knew you never stayed. In fact, he’d probably be grateful to wake up without you still hanging around so that he, too, could process it all.

You stirred a little, gently detaching his arm from around you first and depositing it ever so slowly behind you. You put some distance between your back and his chest, unsticking his lips from your shoulder.

“Mmmmmprhgh,” he groaned, stirring. You stilled, not even daring to blink, until you heard his breathing evening out again. You resumed your attempts at escape.

“Jesus, you fucking octopus,” you whispered quietly to yourself, moving to detangle your legs from his. His limbs were everywhere. You managed to get one leg free--when the hell had you put gigantic wool socks on?-- but then a long arm was wrapping back around your waist, dragging you a small distance across the pillow and tucking you back firmly into his chest. A warm pair of lips traced from your shoulder to your ear, his nose inhaling softly, and he pressed a soft kiss to your earlobe.

“I know,” he started, his morning voice much deeper and raspier than his usual one, “I know you’re not trying to sneak out of here without me knowing.”

SIlence. Dead silence. You stiffened considerably, and he burrowed his face deeper in your neck.

“Relax kid,” he whispered, “It’s just me. It’s still just me.”

You had no idea what to say, shrinking your shoulders and hunching in on yourself a bit. Bill sighed, loosening the grip he had on your waist and reaching his hand up to scratch at your head instead.

“If you want to leave, you can,” he said, keeping his voice low, “I want you to stay. But if you don’t want to, you can go. Just use the fucking door like a normal person, and not the window.” He reached around and laid a gentle kiss on your cheek, returning his face to the crook of your neck.

That earned him a small chuckle from you, and you felt his grin at your ear.

“I just planted that peony bush downstairs. it looks better without a you-shaped imprint in it,” he continued. 

You laughed at that, and he felt your body relax, your muscles letting go of their tension. You turned in his arms to face him; his hair was stuck up everywhere, his eyes hooded, his lips puffy. You gave him a small smile.

“Hey, tiger,” he smiled too, stroking his thumb across your cheek where the creases from your pillow case had indented. 

“Hey, Billy goat,” you replied, “It’s too fucking early to be awake. And for the record, I’m only staying because you make a killer breakfast.” 

You tucked your face into his chest as he chuckled, his chin resting on top of your head as his arm wrapped back around you and he tangled your feet together.

“Noted,” he said.

“And because peony bushes have thorns.”

“Yeah, that didn’t work out too well for you the last time,” he said, and you groaned in agreement.

He dug a hand in your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp. His other hand came up, thumb resting lightly on your lips.

“You want this back?” he teased, tapping his thumb against your mouth.

You pinched his ribs and he squealed, laughing, and drew you in closer to his chest. You smushed your face further into him, wrapping your arm around his torso, as sleep took hold of you again.

When you roused again, it was because his chest was vibrating with a poorly stifled laugh, his hand still in your hair and scratching softly. You huffed angrily, smacking your lips.

“The fuck, Bill,” you groaned. More poorly controlled laughter.

“You uh....you drooled on me. It tickles.”

Your eyes flew open and you unpasted yourself from his chest, mortified at the wet patch that was in his chest hair.

“Oh my god that is....that is so gross. I’m so sorry,” you scurried further away but he was quick to loop a long arm around you, pulling you back in.

“It’s fine tiger,” he laughed, “breakfast?”

You closed your eyes and just groaned, diving face down into your pillow.

“I need to caffeinate you, don’t I?”

“Yes, fuck you,” your answer was muffled but got your point across, as the sheets rustled and he stood. Stretching his arms right up to where they almost touched the ceiling, he cracked his back and grabbed his sweatpants on the way out the room.

Right, you should probably start looking for your clothes, too. Sitting up, you quickly located your jeans. You underwear were trickier, but they ended up being at the foot of the bed under the comforter. You slipped them on. Your shirt was on Bill’s side. And your bra, you realized with utter terror after searching for several moments...your bra was hanging from the ceiling fan directly above you.

Scrambling up, you reached as high as you could on your tiptoes on the bed, but you still didn’t come close. You would try jumping, but your knees were already wobbly at being up higher than on solid ground. You whined, reaching desperately in hopes that maybe your arm would grow about 14 more inches.

“Oh. Here uh....let me,” Bil stood in the middle of the room, placing two cups of coffee on the nightstand while you quickly covered your chest with your arms. Ever so elegantly, he reached up, just a tad onto his tip toes, and plucked your undergarment from where it hung. He handed it to you, giving you a wink as he took a sip of his coffee. You hurriedly put your bra and shirt on, hopping down from the bed and wincing slightly as you moved your legs more. Concern took over his features.

“Are you okay?” he asked. You nodded.

He walked slowly to you, grasping your chin softly and forcing your eyes to his.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you answered quickly, “you didn’t hurt me. I promise. I’m just a little uh, sore.”

“Do you need Advil? Or an...ice....pack?” he released your chin and you laughed, loud and genuine.

“An ice pack? Really, Bill?” he shrugged at your teasing, embarrassed, “ It’s nothing a solid breakfast can’t fix,” you assured as you grabbed his elbow, leading the way.

You boosted yourself up onto the counter, taking a seat by the stove as you watched him work. Despite being so tall and gangly, there was always something...fluid about the way he moved. He was elegant. Clumsy at times, but also smooth and purposeful in the way he moved, particularly around things and places that he loved, like his kitchen. You watched him work, sweatpants slung low on his hips and a kitchen towel draped across a bare shoulder. He moved lazily but efficiently, stirring a bowl, flipping pancakes, shaking a pan. When he knew you were watching, he’d start waving his arms wildly, changing his voice in that of the Swedish Chef and speaking gibberish. That one always got you, Bill was so good at impersonations and the character was so perfect. You laughed at him, happily sipping your coffee and swinging your feet when the socks caught your eye. Right, those socks. You had been meaning to ask him.

“Hey, Bill...” you started. He hummed, his mouth wrapped around a finger that had just tasted a sauce bubbling away. He reached for his pepper grinder.

“Where the fuck did these socks come from?” You motioned to the wool socks on your feet, thick and furry and very obviously much too big for you.

“You woke me up in the middle of the night with those icicles attached to your shins,” he said, “I jumped a mile. Fucking lizard feet.”

“You put socks on me when I was sleeping?” Bill paused, turning to you and quirking a brow in challenge.

“Of all the things I did to you last night, that's what strikes you as odd?”

He grinned at you then, your face turning beet red as you stared at him. He turned back around, leaving you in your shock, continuing to season the various elements of breakfast he had going. You hadn’t quite recovered by the time he was plating everything, handing you a dish with 3 pancakes on it while his dish had 5. You frowned.

“Why do you get more pancakes?” you asked.

“Short stack for the short stack,” he shrugged, booping your nose and walking to the table. Picking up a lemon from a nearby bowl, you flung it at his head and guffawed loudly when it beaned him perfectly and bounced off.

“Vurt da FURK!” his arms flew up, continuing his earlier impersonation, and you launched into a fit of giggles.

“You’ll pay for that one,” he said. You hopped off the counter, plate in hand, to join him at the table.

“Just keep in mind, Billy goat,  I’d much rather be in a thorny peony bush right now. But you begged me to stay,” you retorted.

“And you begged me to--” you slapped your hand over his mouth.

“Don’t you dare,” you threatened.

He just winked at you. 

[wishingforatypewriter]

Between Us (Chapter 9)

Summary: On the eve of his first restaurant’s opening, Souma receives some sagely advice from his father. (Full story here)

On the day of the opening, Souma woke up at half past five with Megumi’s hair tickling his face. He took a moment to watch her, study the serene rise and fall of her chest, and kissed the patch of skin just below her earlobe. 

She smiled and shifted in her sleep, released a soft sigh of contentment, and Souma had to remind himself why he couldn’t just get back into bed with her. 

 When he stepped out of the master suite half an hour later, he saw his father sitting on the couch, flipping channels lazily. 

Souma waited a full thirty seconds before reacting; he had to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. 

 “Pops?”

“Yo, Souma,” Jouichirou greeted. “You know, you guys have got to get a better cable package. Where are all the sports—”

“Look, the rent is so high in this neighborhood, and Megumi prefers the movie channels so...” He began to explain his T.V. plight, much in the same way he had to whenever Kurokiba came over, when a glaring detail returned to the forefront of his mind. “Wait a minute. What are you even doing here?” 

His father shrugged before settling on a rerun of some football match and putting the remote down. “I told you last week I’d try to come in the morning.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you ever get anywhere when you plan to.” 

Souma recalled him being minutes to days late for every ceremony and graduation he’d had since kindergarten. 

Jouichirou chuckled a bit. “I guess that’s true, but Gin’s been sending me calendar reminders for the past three weeks. He said he wouldn’t stop until I got on the plane.” 

At this, Souma shook his head. “Listen, pops. I’ve gotta head to the restaurant soon, but make yourself comfortable.” 

“Have a smoke with me first,” he said before drawing two cigarettes from his pocket. 

“Out on the fire escape,” Souma told him, resigned to the fact that his father would do things on his own time no matter what he had to say about it. 

“Megumi still asleep?”

“Yeah. She took the day off from work,” Souma explained. “Her family’s flying in early this afternoon.”

Jouichirou whistled. “I remember cooking for in-laws,” he said, lighting his cigarette and his son’s. “Guess you really can’t fuck this one up.”

“Trust me, I know. Nakiri’s told me enough times already.” With no effort at all, his mind conjured the impassive look she maintained each time he put his all on a plate for her. 

“You and Erina still close?” Jouichirou asked, wearing an expression his son couldn’t quite place.

Souma smirked a little, thinking of all the ignored phone calls and changed mailing addresses. “No one really gets to be close to Nakiri, except Arato and Alice. But we talk every now and then, when she feels like it.”

The perplexing expression returned to Jouichirou’s face for the briefest of moments, but it was gone before Souma thought to ask what it meant. “Your mother would be proud,” he said after a long pause. “She always joked about moving to Paris — only to annoy your grandfather, but still.”

Souma nodded, recalling the jovial arguments in fits and starts. He found himself half-drowned in thoughts of the diner —Yukihira special menus and crude compliments from the regulars — when his father spoke again. 

“You know there’s no coming back from this,” he said. “After tonight, no matter what you do, the name Yukihira will always be famous.”

“Is it really that bad?” 

Jouichirou took a long drag from his cigarette before responding; he let his eyes draw closed. “I think you know already, I never wanted to send you to Totsuki. Never would have done it if the old man hadn’t been so persistent. But what’s done is done. Best you can do now is —”

“Don’t fuck up?” 

“Now you’re getting it,” he replied, slapping his son on the shoulder. “Don’t fuck up, and try to remember what’s important to you. That’s what’ll keep you from losing your mind. Oh, and Souma.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you were supposed to be at the restaurant fifteen minutes ago.” 

“Oh shit!” And with that, he put out his cigarette, sprinted to the front door, and hoped his father wouldn’t burn the place down.

Arato Hisako was convinced that the universe had no sympathy for her. That was the only explanation for why only a matter of weeks after she’d put Akira out of her mind and started getting serious with someone new, she saw his stupid, smug face on the cover of Business Insider.

He looked so cool and arrogant in the photograph, standing by a window in his Dubai skyscraper, that part of Hisako felt inclined to throw the entire magazine out the window.  

“But when did he even—”

“Ignore it,” Erina advised as they rode through the streets of Paris in a stretch limo, on their way to buy outfits for the pre-open. “You decided you’re done with him, so be done.” 

“You’re right.” Hisako heaved a gargantuan sigh, knowing for certain that he would be there for the launch of Maison de Yukihira tonight, and that it would take everything within her to keep from slapping him into infinity. 

As they moved from boutique to boutique, Hisako noticed something peculiar about her friend’s behavior. Although she’d always had impeccable style, Erina scarcely had either the time or the patience to indulge in all-day shopping sprees. In fact, she often sent a professional shopper out with her measurements and outsourced the task of buying clothes entirely. 

But now she glided through the racks with laser focus, moving in and out of dressing rooms without even the slightest huff of irritation. 

“Are you looking for something specific, Erina-sama?” she asked after she walked out of their seventh store empty-handed. For her part, Hisako had long since decided on a navy blue scoop neck dress. 

“No. It’s just you know how those food magazines photograph me every chance they get. I figured I should try to make an impression this time instead of getting caught unawares.”

Hisako sensed bullshit — and she saw that her best friend was touching the back of her neck the way she always did when she had a certain diner chef on the brain. But she wouldn’t give her any grief about it. Hisako knew better than anyone the agony derived from affections that cropped up where they didn’t belong. 

When Erina found the right dress, an onyx column gown with a daring slit running up the left side, Hisako smiled and found her gold earrings and bangles to match. 

That evening Alice met them at their hotel, dressed in the type of chic white jumpsuit that was becoming typical of her. She took one look at her cousin, from her matte burgundy lipstick to the 100 mm red bottoms adorning her feet and exchanged a knowing look with Hisako. 

“So we’re out to break hearts tonight?” Alice asked, chuckling as she helped herself to the vodka in the minibar. 

“Just the usual one, courtesy of the god tongue,” Erina replied, deadpan, and Hisako felt a creeping suspicion that she had been referring to her own. 

-----

To say that it had been a good year for Yoshino Yuki would be a gross understatement. Almost overnight she had gone from cruise ship cook to Tasty producer with talks about her own Food Network special in the works. 

For the first time in her life, she’d flown to Paris in a business class cube and she had no intention of ever downgrading again.

She had spent the last few months feeling like the girl-next-door made good. But once she stepped out of her cab and saw the culinary juggernauts waiting to enter Yukihira's debut restaurant, she was reminded once again of the abyss that stood between her and the true elite.

She had been standing by the coat check, caught between the impulse to network and the desire to search for a familiar face when she locked eyes with Marui Zenji, who was handing off his blazer to the attendant. 

“Oh, Yoshino-san!” he said, smiling at her. “I thought it’d be ages before I found someone I knew.”

Yuki returned the smile, noting that he had grown a little since Fumio-san’s 85th. Was that even possible? She had maintained the same shrimpy stature since their last year of junior high school. “It’s been awhile, Marui. Congratulations on finishing your degree, by the way.”

“Thank you.” He looked down, adjusting those absurdly round spectacles of his. 

 “What will you do now?” Yuki asked. 

“I’m actually starting a postgraduate program,” he explained.

Yuki rolled her eyes a bit. “Honestly, Marui. At this rate you’ll be in your fifties before you open a restaurant.”

He chuckled a bit. “You sound like my parents.” 

They drifted away from the coat check then, glancing about the clusters of gourmands sipping cocktails and chatting before the start of the dinner service. Yuki’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she spotted Elaine Shiraz and a handful of editors from True Taste magazine. 

“Yukihira’s really done well for himself, huh?” she said, more to herself than to Zenji. She still had such a long way to go. 

“He’s not the only one,” he told her.

“I guess you’re right. Somewhere in this dining room, Shoji is probably shooting his shot with Arato-san.” 

This earned a full-bellied laugh from Marui, the likes of which usually only came out after his third drink. “Undeniably true,” he replied. “But not what I was referring to.” 

“Then what—”

“I always knew you were meant to be on television.”

For a moment, Yuki was taken aback. Of everyone she’d ever known, this man had to be the least aware of pop culture. So how could it be that he was following her career down its media-saturated path? 

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, as that was the only way she’d ever known how to deal with the absurdly high regard he held her in. “We should go find a table for four. You know Shun and Ryoko won’t be here until the food’s nearly out.”

Marui’s eyes darkened with regret. “Actually, Yoshino-san, I’m here with someone tonight.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed,” she said, trying to clear the surprise from her expression.

“But I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if the five of us—”

“No, that kind of thing drives front of the house staff crazy,” Yuki said, a shiver running down her spine as she recalled her dark hostessing days. “Don’t keep her waiting. It was good seeing you, though.”

“Keep in touch,” he told her. “My number’s the same.”

Yuki didn’t bother telling him that her number had changed three times in as many years. She had no intention of calling anyway. 

 ----

It was rare for Megumi to spend much time thinking about her appearance, but because this was his night she had curled the ends of her hair and put on the short red dress with the halter neckline. After getting her mother and grandfather — who had flown all the way to Europe for the first time — comfortable at their table, she started making her rounds, thanking all their friends from Totsuki and New York for coming. 

“Ohhh, Megumi-chan, why so gorgeous?” the newly minted Shinomiya Hinako squealed once she spotted her.

“Thank you, Inui-senpai,” Megumi managed to say before the older woman pulled her into a hug so tight she started to see stars. 

“Yukihira’s a fool if he doesn’t propose to you tonight.”

“He’s already a fool for thinking he can compete in this venue, green upstart that he is,” Shinomiya interjected.

“If I recall, you were even younger than Yukihira-kun is now when you opened Shino’s, and even less experienced,” Hinako pointed out. She turned to Megumi with a conspiratorial grin. “He’s just upset because he lost his best cook.”

“Ignore, my wife. She’s delusional,” Shinomiya said, pushing his sleek glasses up on his nose. “But when are we going to see your opening, bumpkin?” 

The question brought an unexpected flush to Megumi’s cheeks. “Oh...well I’ve been—”

“Too distracted by dick to focus on your craft?” he asked, rubbing his right temple. “I thought I taught you better than this.” 

“Oh, leave her alone. She’s in love, like us.” 

Shinomiya Kojirou shook his head. “The jury’s still out on that one.”

Megumi laughed a bit before wishing them well and moving on to the next set of familiar faces. She would continue on in this way, trying to let her old mentor’s comments slide off her like water on ducks’ wings, until the dinner service began. 

[improbablecarny]

The Best Good Parts of The Mystery of Time

As according to me

Knock knock, 2013! Who’s there? It’s Tobias Sammet with a fresh delivery of Avantasia, this time in the form of the spooky gothic tale that begins here. We’ve got old faces, we’ve got new faces, and we’ve got clock faces, so let’s get ready to face what lays at the heart of The Mystery of Time!

Storyline: On a cold winter night in a sleepy little village, a young scientist named Aaron Blackwell happens upon a nightmarish scene: spectral figures and the poor old victim at their center. After rescuing the Antiquarian, Aaron is gifted with a broken old mantlepiece clock, and becomes the center of a mysterious Nobleman’s plan to re-align the world’s seemingly fractured timeline.

Quick Notes:

This album utilizes a real orchestra in numerous songs.

The special edition came with a purely instrumental version of the album, which was pretty cool.

The storyline in this one hit the happy medium between The Metal Opera and The Wicked Trilogy: there still aren’t interludes or spoken parts, and the songs all stand on their own out of context, but there is a more obvious degree of dialogue between the characters. There’s a couple characters who aren’t real people but most of them are. The special edition also came with Aaron’s journal entries, which makes it much easier to follow the plot.

Relistening to TMOT and its sequel, I have to say these albums do some CRAZY cool sound design shit. Listen closely... can you find all the time/machinery motifs?

Come unravel the mystery... by listening to the album for free, officially, on Youtube! (Or Spotify)

Spectres

We all know how I feel about The Seven Angels, but I have to say that in terms of introducing the story, building the setting and setting the mood, Spectres may just be my favourite introductory song.

The dramatic 3/4 intro... it BEGS for choreography

Very strong first verse!

VERY strong second verse - again, where are the dancers at? There’s this languid, macabre sense to the pace of this song that makes it SO easy to visualize

“DANCE IN THE GLOOM / DANCE IN THE GLOOM! EVERY MOVE’S A STEP TO YOUR TOMB!” Chills! Chills! Chills!

Bring in the dancing ghosts!

The bassline before...

HARPSICHORD SOLO!

“Wiiiide open MIIIIIIIiiiiiiiii-iiinds”

The drum strikes at the end of the chorus but especially at the end of the song sound like fireworks and it does things to me.

The Watchmaker’s Dream

That time signature... of course I love it

The bright and forward-marching pace in the intro... *dreamy sighs*

The chugging of the guitars as you dip into the first verse? Divine.

“oooooh NOOOOOoooooo”

THE WATCHMAKER’S DREAM!

(The Watchmaker himself doesn’t show up until Ghostlights but Boy Howdy it’s worth the wait)

“SIMPLIFY SIMPLICITY” GOOD entrance

Arjen Lucassen guitar solo immediately followed by an insane Ferdy Doernberg organ solo... thank you for my life

Biff Byford outro lines... “for ALL the world TO see...” 

Black Orchid

The intro... is sexy. That orchestration tho

The piano backing the first verse

“NO TIME FOR DREEAMIIIING”

Joe Lynn Turner’s entrance... “As above / so below!”

THE FINAL HOUR... WHEN NEVER AND NOW.. BECOME.. ONE!

“Everybody’s craving”... that beat

The unforgettable “bllLAAACK OOOOoooRCHIIIiiiiiIID... strAAAANGE and bEEEAUTIFUUUuuul”

Where Clock Hands Freeze

The orchestration takes the intro again but in a much more lighthearted, rousing melody

Which quickly becomes...

the MICHAEL KISKE POWER METAL NUMBER YEAH

The prechorus rolling back the beat with the strings and piano... ahh

“There’s no time to lose... no chance to refuse....”

“....aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA”

The only disappointment here is still that Tobi doesn’t also go “aaaaaaaaaaaaaa” at the end of his verse

“Through your dark swamp / I walk on deductive conclusion” oh Aaron... you’ve got a big storm coming

 (literally... we’ll get there)

Sleepwalking

This one was used in the promo for an airing of The Titanic on a German tv station so that’s fun

Cloudy is cool I miss her

It’s the heavier-pop duet of the album and it’s extremely good

The second verse when the momentum really picks up... mwah

Savior in the Clockwork

This is the first whopper of the album at nearly 11 minutes, and for good reason

The orchestration again gets a chance to shine in the intro - listen to those soundscapes and soak it all in!

NAH NAH NAAAAAAAAH... NAH NAH NAAAAAAAAH

CHOIR!

“I envision how you lie awake and agonize” time to groove

“Oh every MOMENT everyBODY’S gonna THINK ALIKE!”

“Mind by mind / check the pace for all mankind” time to REALLY groove

When Tobi said “Am I half-asleep or half-unconscious... half a-dream?” I felt it in my soul

This is another one with a live arrangement that fucking rules if you can find it

“Do I dream?” GROOVE TIME AGAIN

Slow down and tap that cymbal baby

“Journey to the first sun... to the BLACK WOOOMB OF SPAAAAACE”

“FATHER PRIMAL SPAAAAAAAAACE”

“WOHOHH YEAAAAHAAH”

Are you STILL GROOVIN’?

The whole back and forth starting “I’ve seen the ocean swallow the ancient harmony”

Then again at “At crack of dawn...”

“RAISE YOUR MIIIIIIND” hi again Michi

When they switch and he takes the melody and then Tobi does the background choir embellishments 

That last chorus run! The POWER

Invoke the Machine

The sailing guitars in the intro... *chef’s kiss*

Introducing Ronnie Atkins! I’ve gushed about his performance as the Nobleman before and I’ll do it again!

The second verse is a primo example of what I mean with him - “these dreams that you hummed to yourself once / how far will you reach out to make them come true? Will you turn around and shirk from duty... ” A kind benefactor who may be just who you need to find answers...

“Ō̸̡̫̟̗̬̞̯̭̯͙͓̲͇̪̈́͝R̵̛̯͍̲̐ ̷͎̤̹̬̼̉̿̀́̋̕͜͠͠F̵̛͎̫̾̀͒̂͌̇̅̑̐̅̔O̵̱̟͉̾̀Ṛ̴̢̨͍̳̟̼̞̉͆̆͑́̀̅́͊̔͠C̴̢̧͓͖̝͍̭͖̯̻̯̤͈̞̓͊̀̿̓́̍̽̋̽͠Ë̷̡̮͙̒̓̿͑́̕ ̴̡̠̦͕̯̖̺̪̻̺̗̃̌́̽̑ͅͅT̷̛͉̮̲̦̭̜̭̝̝͙̭͖̗̉͋̈́͘͜͜H̶͚̖̩̪͕͌̀͘Ẻ̷̤̯̤̯̒́̑͌͘̚ͅ ̶̧̢͍̣̭͚̰̥̟̉͋̔̋͌̔̓̔̓̕͘P̶̛̮͈͗̍̿̃̎͑̃̀̀̓̾͝Ă̸̗̙͇̯̘͇̹͔̫̫͎̞̾́̒͐̊̅̕͠C̴̢͉̖̳̱͍͚̭̤̖̖̙̫͜͠Ę̴̝̦͇͈̯̬͍̖͗̃̏̃̒̔̿”

Oh haha, ok, so THAT’S definitely the bad guy

“As my glance wanders to... the far off land in the sky”

“Oh, hissing and SCREEAMIN’ - almost ALIII-III-IIIIiiive!”

IN THE NIIIIIGHT - can you hear that in the chorus? It’s happening: Meatloafification. (To transform, over time, into American rock musician Meat Loaf)

The instrumental when they actually invoke the machine... more chefs kisses

The journal entry for this one states that the Nobleman “literally exploded” into a monologue, which still tickles me

What’s Left of Me

It’s Eric Martin, baby! Despite being on a whopping 3 studio songs his involvement in the tour lineup and bluesy, hearty voice have cemented him as an integral part of the Avantasia experience for me.

The string intro... the vocal intro... the duet...

When I first saw the name of this song in the tracklist pre-release I went “oh, this song will end me”

I was right

Dweller in a Dream

“OH OHHHHHHHHHHHWHOAAAAHH”

“Memories / Of good intentions ghosting me“ Time to groove again!

“God if you’re out there / why do you make ME SPIN YOUR WHEEL?”

CHOIR CHORUS

These lyrics are wild

“Are you for real now or just a dweller in my dream?”

DO YOU HEAR ME / DWELLER IN A DREAM!

“Ooooooh.... why would your god-given will come off the track?”

“COME OFF THE TRACK?”

“DWELLER IN A DREAAAAAM”

The Great Mystery

The closer to this album is another great Bob Catley megasong, and I regularly sing the entire thing in the shower.

CARRY THE FLAME TO ACCELERAAAATE THE EVOLUTION OF AN AAAAAGE

The dramatic instrumentals behind “don’t be afraid / just look around!”

DON’T QUESTION WHAT YOUR EYES CAN’T SEEEEE

It’s extremely hard for me to just not quote the entire passage that begins at “I see a cold moon rise above those empty streets”

...AND AS YOU MARVEL AT THE ARTWORK IN YOUR HANDS / RICH IN DETAIL / SO FRAIL AND BEAUTIFUL

AND YOU FORGET THE RULES THE ELDERS ALWAYS MADE UP FOR YOU

TO SAVE YOUR PRECIOUS TIME

OH!

Both passages that begin with “I see tears shed over days...”

... and answers you DID FIND

To dare what YOU WOULD FIND INSIIIIIIDE

THE LAST CHORUS

“OOOOH IS IT REALLY NOT A DREAM?”

“THE GREAT MYSTERY”

“AAAAAAAAH”

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” 

waaaaaah  😭

BONUS TRACK: THE CROSS AND YOU

To my knowledge it has nothing to do with the TMOT story. It sounds a lot like a lost Edguy song more than anything.

It has a hard rock edge that sets it apart significantly from the more symphonic songs on the album

“Allllll... the ways...”

I do dig the theatrical tone at “The cautionary voice that shatters your brain”

It’s the end of the album, but the story doesn’t end there! We’ve got a world of revelations ahead of us in the next leg of the story... and you can make time for that, right?

Cast List:

Tobias Sammet as Aaron Blackwell Michael Kiske as The Antiquarian Ronnie Atkins as The Nobleman Eric Martin as The Beggar Cloudy Yang as She Bob Catley as Epiphany Joe Lynn Turner as Reason Biff Byford as Science

[geminimoonbeamx]

Naive: Part 3

A/N: I’m so freaking happy you guys seemed to like the story so far!, I wrote this and a few other chapters up in one night! Hopefully I can get you guys as hyped as I am for this story. Oh and if you couldn’t already tell, the reader IS mixed race. Because there’s a serious lack of mixed race reader inserts. If this offends you or deters you just skim over it I guess??

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Just cursing in this chapter because I have the mouth of a sailor. Get ready for it to get smutttayyyyy next chapter tho, my home dogs!

Summary: As the goddaughter of Tony Stark you were no stranger to the Avengers, but when you meet the newest member- you’re a little more then intrigued. Unfortunately for him, Bucky Barnes has caught your eye.

💘💘💘💘💘

It’s honestly insane what a little bit of sleep can do to improve your life.

Well okay, a lot of sleep. You’d slept for like thirty hours straight, thank the mother fuckin’ lord and you felt like a brand new woman.

Especially after you take a couple bong rips.

Wake and baking was a way of life for you, had been since you we’re fifteen years old. There was just nothing like it.

You take a shower, deciding against getting dressed in real clothes and instead you wiggle into a pair of black lace trimmed lounge shorts, and then slip on a wireless bralette. It gives you no support of course, your supple breast sit comfortably and unrestrained. Just the way you liked them to be.

As you sit at your vanity and stare at your reflection in the mirror, your brain cloudy and happy; your eyes slightly red rimmed and low, you feel …numb. But a good numb. The numb you wished you can be forever. You rip the tie from your hair and it tumbles down from the bun it had been in and falls around your shoulders, the silky strands tickling your bare, fresh skin.

Do you think you’re pretty? Fuck yes. Do you think you’re fat? Also, fuck yes.

It was a concept that most people couldn’t seem to understand. How could you admit that you we’re fat and yet still sit and check yourself out in the mirror? Well because to you, fat was just a descriptive word. Not the heinous insult other people thought it was. Yes, you we’re fat. Just like you we’re smart. And fucking hilarious if you do say so yourself… and at the moment, extremely stoned.

Your confidence hadn’t appeared out of thin air, it was something that had been ingrained in you.

Because your mother had never made you question your worth. She didn’t give a shit about the numbers on a scale or cellulite. She didn’t care if your hair was wild and curly, curlier then her, a white woman had known how to handle for years. No- she cared if you we’re kind to others. If you we’re brave enough to go after you wanted and speak up for yourself.

So you had.

You broke away from that fat girls should wear baggy clothes and stay quiet and try to shrink themselves. Nah, fuck that. This fat girl was going to do whatever she wanted.

Did have negative thoughts about yourself sometimes? Duh, you’re a human being. Everyone has ugly thoughts sometimes, but mostly you we’re a little full of yourself.

Like now, as you blend on warm, smoky eyeshadow, carve your brows and contour your face. Drowning yourself in highlighter. Acentuating and defining all of the parts of your face that you loved. You liked primping and pampering yourself, loved all things beauty, really. Eyelash extensions, going for manicures, facials. They we’re all your jam.

When you’re satisfied with yourself, tossing and musing your hair until it falls around your head in a messy way that looks more sexy then homeless you rise, intent on going and finding Wanda or something.

Not wanting to be alone anymore.

You almost walk out of your living room in a bralette- because of comfort reasons but think twice as you pass the mirror by the door.

You really didn’t want to give Tony a coronary on this fine Thursday.

Why couldn’t we all just walk around naked? Everyone would be a lot more comfortable. It would probably bring world peace.

So after throwing on a loose shirt and a cape like McQueen floral kimono you slip into a fluffy pair of slides and start your epic journey to find sustenance, thinking about how human beings greatest down fall was when we made it a systematic norm to have to be clothed… what kind of crazy weed had Jessica sold you?

------

You don’t think it’s attention you like, and you’ve thought about it a lot.

No, it’s affection.

You’d always been a…touchy person, and it had tended to get you into trouble. You understood boundaries, you just hated them. You didn’t know why it was such a taboo to show the people you cared about that you cared. Why was intimacy in friendships so frowned upon? Why couldn’t you wrap your arms around your friends. Kiss them on the cheek? Cuddle with them?

It just had never been a big deal to you. You liked touching, and fuck, did you liked to be touched.

When you walk into the kitchen, you’re surprised to find the gathering there.

Nat, Wanda and Clint stand at the island, cutting up veggies and talking between themselves. Thor and Bruce sit at a table with Steve and Bucky. It all seems so…pleasant. One of those rare quaint, normal moments in the tower. It would make anyone smile.

“Goodmorning, sunshines” You greet them as you walk in.

You steal a piece of tomato from Natasha’s cutting board and plop it into you mouth.

“Y/N you are aware that it’s almost one, right?” She informs you with a smile to which you just shrug.

“Technicalities. It’s still noon-ish so it’s morning…pretty much”

“Flawed way of thinking you got there, squirt” Clint criticized. His eleven year old had better sleeping habits then you.

“Flawed or brilliant?”

“You sound just like Tony” Bruce calls from his place across the room and you pull your head from the fridge.

“Why thanks”

When you cant find anything that catches your eye in the massive fridge, even though its brightly lit with an array of food, you call for FRIDAY and ask her if she could have the chef cook you up some Nutella crepes, “please and thank you!”

“How high are you right now?” Wanda reaches over to whisper to you knowingly and you lean forward to rest your chin on her shoulder, her long dark hair tickling your face pleasantly.

“Super. You have to try this shit that I got from Jessica, it’s crazy” You reply, your breath hot on her ear so that she’s the only one who can hear you.

The both of you break out in to giggles, girlish and young sounding. Wanda missed this, the having a connection like this with someone. Welcoming and relishing another’s touch in a way that was both intimate and utterly innocent.

She’d had it with Pietro…and then he’d gone and left her alone and she thought that was the end of it.

But then you’d gotten close to her, befriended her, and there it was again. Being able to just, melt with someone was something that should be cherished. She cherished her friendship with you. The way you let her lean into you with no resistance. You and your bright eyes and contagious laugh. She felt…she felt more like Wanda when she was with you. Less like Scarlett Witch.

Bucky hadn’t meant to watch you for as long as he had. He’d turned to you when you’d entered the room and hadn’t been able to tear his eyes away, for more then mere moments, since. It was a mixture of the tiny shorts you had on, the way the black lacy material rode up your sumptuous thighs…but mostly it was your interaction with Wanda. He wasn’t particularly close to her(he wasn’t particularly close to anyone except for Steve and Sam…although he’d never admit it) but he’d never seen the girl like this. Like you’d somehow lit her up from the inside.

The two of you we’re whispering and laughing like school girls, carefree and light and it stirred something in his stomach.

His eyes snap away as you approach the table.

“Hello sirs” you salute as you come up and take the seat in between Steve and Thor. It’s comical how intensely the two men dwarf you.

“Hello little woman” Thor squeezes your shoulder, his big palm encompassing the flesh “How was your sleep? It seems like it’s been days since you graced us with your presence”

You cant help bite your lips together to hide a grin. Would you ever get over the regal manner in which Thor talked?

Probably not.

“Yeah, Y/N. How are you feeling today? Less drowsy?” It’s the tone in Bruce’s voice you don’t like, not his words. He’s using his doctor’s voice on you.

Yes, Bruce knew about your…situation. Tony had told him, with your permission, so that he could help monitor the process. You didn’t mind him knowing, you just didn’t want him blowing it and everyone finding out about it. It was a sensitive subject for you and you’d rather keep it quiet. It’s not that you didn’t trust the others its just…you weren’t ready for it to be public knowledge.

You didn’t want to be looked at differently.

“I’m fine” You play it off “My sleeping schedule’s just been off. I just had to reset my internal clock to the eastern time zone. No biggie’”

Bruce wants to ask you more but he’s a smart man, and decides he’d press the issue later in the privacy of the lab. He knew what it was like to want to keep a secret, and he wasn’t about to go making you uncomfortable by blowing yours.

You reach over to steal one of the fries off of Steve’s plate, sticking you tongue out at him “How has you guy’s day been so far? No alien invasions yet?”

You had a way of setting the atmosphere, keeping it light.

You talk with the guys until Bruce leaves, needing to go run some labs or smash some things…okay that was an asshole joke, you chastise yourself. You didn’t like teasing him about his little green problem, Thor follows him. Talking about some meeting he was being “forced unwillingly to attend”

“Good luck, big guy” You kiss his cheek before he leaves.

“So really, what have you guys been up to today” You ask the two men you’re left with as you cut into your crepes.

“Nothin’ much, it’s been a quiet one so far. Just training. I was thinking about going for a walk later on, maybe Central Park? Get some sketching in while I can” Steve answers.

“You drawing more, Steve? That’s amazing! You’ll have to show me some of your stuff sometime! I remember they were always so good” You urge him excitedly. Since you’d known him, you’d tried to push him to take his art seriously. Fuck knows it was his only release. You had a feeling even Steve Rogers had a breaking point, you also had no desire to ever see it.

Only Steve’s ears turn red, which is actually progress for him “Yeah, I can do that”

“Really? So a pretty girl asks to see your sketchbook and your game, but I, your best friend cant?” Bucky sees an opening and cant help but take it “Whatta’ Jerk”

Okay, where did that come from? You fight to keep the shock off of your face. Pretty girl? Really?

“Well she’s not a crap critic like you are” Steve justifies himself “Last time I showed you somethin’ you told me that I couldn’t draw dog paws for shit”

“Hey, I was just kidding. That was about a year ago, too!” Bucky sounds truly apologetic and you break out into a squawk of laughter.

“You guys are so married, oh my god” You shake your head at the two of them. It’s cute… seeing them together. Both of their guards way down.

“Don’t encourage his behavior, Y/N” Steve’s trying not to chuckle.

You turn your attention to Bucky then, your body literally angling towards him as you focus in. “What about you, Bucky? Any big plans?”

Why? Why does his brain turn off when you look at him like that? Your gleaming eyes looking at nothing but his face.

“Uh- nothing yet, doll”

“Awe if I didn’t have to go shopping I’d say lets have our marathon!”

“Marathon?” Steve wonders, his eyes flashing between the two of you.

“Yeah, I’m going to force Bucky to watch Harry Potter with me. You know, bring his life great enlightenment and fulfilment” You answer him nonchalantly, taking a bite of your food. Letting out a little moan and crossing your eyes “Oh my gosh this is amazing”

Did you mean to look so sexual? The way your pretty lipstick coated lips wrapped around that fork had Bucky tensing.

“No really you guys, who even is this new chef? Is he the second coming of Christ? Taste this!” You encourage as you cut another piece and hold it out to Bucky, your hand under it incase it falls.

He doesn’t know what to do. Does he turn you down? Would that be rude? Would it hurt your feelings?

So he just opens his mouth and allows you to feed him the sweet pastry.

“Amazing, huh?”

“Mmhmm, really good” is all Bucky mumbles, trying to keep the heat from his face.

“Steve try it!” You urge, pouting a little when he doesn’t let you shove your fork in his mouth.

As tempting as the offer was- Nutella and the look on your face- Steve had learned his lesson. What if Tony came in and saw you spoon feeding him? Nope.

“I just ate a burger, I gotta’ watch my physique” He teases and your eyebrows knit together.

“Really, take a bite. I’m sure your physique can handle it. Here” You give him the fork so that he can feed himself.

Since when was Steve weird with you like that? You used to be able to…flow with him. Without even thinking about it?

You shrug it off as pot linked paranoia. Just because he didn’t let you spoon feed him didn’t mean you guys weren’t still close. Right?

“Hey are we still going shopping?” Wanda asks as she comes up “If so I’m going to go change?”

“Yeah! Definitely. I need to find a new backpack before I start school again next week. And yeah, I need to change too, you can come get ready with me in my room if you want” You stand quickly, scooting away from the table “You guys can have the rest of that. See ya’ later, gentleman"

And with that your sashaying out of the room with Wanda.

Steve notices Bucky staring at the sway of your hips.

“Bud…”

“Shut up, Steve”

“I told you. Y/N- She’s- Something else” Steve searches for the words “But the kid’s Tony’s pride and joy and we’re still on thin ice with the guy”

“How old is she anyway?” Bucky completely ignores the Tony part of Steve’s sentence. Why’d everyone call her kid? She looked a little young, with that dimpled smile but she was in college so she couldn’t be AS young as they treated her.

“Twenty three” Steve’s response is curt. Matter of fact.

Twenty three, huh? Bucky thinks. That is a little young…a lot younger then his near century. Not young enough for it to deter him, though.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say for a moment. Neither of them do really. It’s quiet as Steve eats the reminder of the crepes because holy shit you hadn’t been lying they were sent from heaven.

Then, Bucky’s handsome face stretches into a devilish smile. One Steve had seen many a’ time.

“She’s got a nice pair of gams on her, doesn’t she?”

Steve tries to purse his lips, but fails in hiding his own wolfish expression.

“That she does”

———

Because even though Steve is Captain America we all know he’s still that little shit from Brooklyn at heart right? Especially when Bucky’s around. Lesbi-honest here I have the major hots for Wanda and it’s taking all of my will power not to write her as a love interest but I really want to focus on a close, strong female friendship…even though I’m dying to have Y/N get her some Wanda😩

As usual give me some feedback! Going to slow? Too fast? Is Y/N too…touchy? What do you think the pills are for and do you want to be tagged? Tellllll me ya’ll

@devenrenee @skeletoresinthebasement @kendallefire @mellifluousbabe @toniinhere @agentmstark @purplekitten30 @bellaballanda @yslbucky @arabellaaurorabarnes @prinxessofspace @supernaturally-lucky @sngforme @kyritha  @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @peaceloveancolor @gabwinchester-dixon