#gin's the type of kid to bite everything

[dex1o]

ankle biter

[olivish]

I hesitate to ask this but--given the incredible dynamics you've set up already I've got to know, how does Emily Gilmore treat Ben?

EMILY: So, Melanie, that'll be a gin martini with an olive. And Ben, how would you like a beer? BEN: Great. MELANIE: Or maybe Ben would like to choose his own drink. That's a thought. EMILY: Oh, yes, I'm sorry Ben. You can have whatever you like. I've got it all. BEN: Beer is perfect. EMILY: Beer it is! MELANIE: No, no, she's got everything. She's got scotch, she's got rum, she's got whiskey, she's got red wine, she's not kidding, she's got it all. BEN: Beer is perfect. EMILY: Very well, here we are! BEN: Thank you, Emily. EMILY: That beer is so nice and cold, I almost want one myself. Now tell me, how's that engine of yours? MELANIE: *coughs* Danger Will Robinson! Danger! *coughs* BEN: It's doing great. Snowpiercer is the greatest engine ever made. EMILY: That is so true. When Joseph and I visited- MELANIE: During your coup. EMILY: When we visited, I thought your engine was so charming. Nice and rustic. [Melanie clears her throat.] EMILY: Do you need a cough drop? BEN: She's fine. EMILY: Where'd your martini go? MELANIE: To a happy place. EMILY: Do you want another? MELANIE: Does your boss fart in the bathtub? EMILY: Is that a yes? MELANIE: Nice poker face. BEN: I'll pour it, Emily. EMILY: Thank you, Ben. I should go check on dinner. Will you excuse me? [Leaves.] BEN: Unbelievable! MELANIE: I know, she didn't even refill my drink. BEN: I meant you, you're acting crazy. MELANIE: She's insulting us! BEN: No, she's not. Emily is being great. MELANIE: What? Were you in the room? Did you not hear the awful things she said? Rustic engine? Rustic? BEN: So? MELANIE: Backhand slang for crap pile. BEN: Or she was admiring its homey feel. MELANIE: And what was the other word she used? BEN: Charming? MELANIE: Slang for doggie poopy. And wait, what was with the beer thing? Oh my God! BEN: That was nice. I wanted beer, she was considerate enough to anticipate that that might be the case. MELANIE: The word beer. Backhand slang for nitwit juice. BEN: You're reading way too much into this. MELANIE: Excuse me, but I would defer to the Hospitality expert here. I am the oracle. I carry all the knowledge. BEN: Well, I would like you to calm down, because you're making me nervous. MELANIE: I'm trying to protect you. BEN: I'm a grown man, and this isn't my first foray into the big city. I've dealt with all types of people in my life. Rich, poor, snobby, proud. I can handle it. And by you jumping in after everything Emily says, makes me look weak. And I don't want to look weak. MELANIE: I don't want you to either! BEN: Well, then, give me my space, okay? Please. MELANIE: Okay, I'll give you your space. [Emily returns.] EMILY: Dinner is going to be as good as it smells, I guarantee it. BEN: It smells wonderful, Emily. EMILY: Thank you, Ben. It's so nice to have a kind gentleman around. BEN: Thank you. EMILY: So, I hear you had a fling with Josie? [Melanie takes a swig of Ben's beer and bites her lips together.] BEN: Uh, yeah, I guess. Although, it depends on what you'd call a fling. EMILY: You had sexual intercourse in the engine, that would be a fling. BEN: Uh, yeah. Yes. Didn't realize it was so widely known... EMILY: Terrible, what happened to that poor woman's arm, isn't it? BEN: Yes... it... was... terrible. EMILY: And the tail in general. What horrible, medieval conditions to subject those people to, but I'm sure it was necessary in your case. BEN: Turned out that way. EMILY: I hope there weren't children. BEN: No. Well, yes. A few. EMILY: Lack of sunlight destroys children. Of course, on your train, people have babies as part of a lottery, for fun. Apparently there's nothing good on TV. [Ben looks at Melanie with pain on his face, but she refuses to speak.]

[ultraericthered]

Anime Update V2 46

Hunter x Hunter - With Team Genthru now possessing 96 types of restricted slot cards, Gon, Killua, and Bisky are invited to form a team with other players aware of the danger in order to prevent Genthru from beating the game. They head to Soufrabi to monopolize a card Genthru’s missing, but will have to deal with Razor in the next event.

Fruits Basket - Lots more revelations regarding Haru and Rin, why they broke up, how they feel about each other, and where Yuki fits into all that. Poor Tohru also had an emotional breakdown about her dead parents and ailing grandfather, as Kyo manages to calm her down before they go back home. Shigure continues to be shady AF.

Date A Live S4 - Best Girl Kurumi is back, baby! And it seems she’s finally decided to give Shido a chance to seal her own powers, but with the condition that if he falls for her rather than the other way around, she’ll take his Spirit powers, which will kill him. And if that’s not enough of a threat to Shido’s life, Ike Westcott orders Ellen and Artemisia to assassinate him, even creating an army of artificial Spirits called Nibelcolle, to help them. Thankfully Mana is there to fend them off, and she even gets help from Kurumi and her doubles. Nia finally reveals that Kurumi had visited her for information on how to kill the Spirit of Origin, and the episode just kind of stops as Shido and Kurumi begin their date by playing around with some stray cats.

Fate Zero - Got to see the remaining two episodes of the series and wow, one helluva finale it was. So much pain and tragedy in the final outcome of this Holy Grail War, but in way that made total sense given all the set-up for it and aligns with everything that had been established in Fate/Stay Night, retroactively strengthening that show. Saber is left broken and jaded by the lack of triumph or closure after her master seemingly betrayed her and she’d slain Lancelot for nothing, Irisveil dies with the Grail and Ilya is left orphaned, Kariya meets a depressingly miserable end, Kirei fully embraces what an evil man he truly is and stays in alignment with Gilgamesh, and Kiritsugu pays a heavier price than expected for his vision. The parts that got to me was seeing Kiritsugu’s emotional response to saving at least one person, the young Shirou, from the fire he’d started, and the conclusion for Waver’s arc being the sole purely positive one.

Re:ZERO - So at last, the Shaman who cursed Subaru and has legions of beasts out to kill the villagers has been revealed, and their identity is something so bananas that at first I was wondering if it was a fake out, but no...the stray puppy dog in the village is the Shaman! He curses Subaru by biting him every time he goes down there and plays around with the kids! So Subaru has Rem accompany him to fight this threat, and we get to see Rem as she truly is on the inside: a demon. An absolute feral menace. But one with a heart and senses when it really matters, which is what’s needed for a fight like this.

Symphogear G - The tipping point in the story has transpired. Miku’s still alive, rescued by Maria right before the explosion, but now she’s being held captive by the F.I.S and by the end has been brainwashed by Dr. Ver into fighting for their side. Maria seems fully intent on committing to the self righteous terrorist path she’s been on and gives Dr. Ver full control over the group’s activities, while Kirika and Shirabe are questioning their part in this and whether one of them may be the true heir to Fine’s power. Hibiki, Tsubasa, and Chris are now in for a showdown with not just their enemies, but with Miku!

MAR - Alviss VS Hamelin in the next match. Not much more to say except that obviously, Alviss won and clinched another win for MAR.

Gintama - Skipped over the beach episode and instead watched the silly paranormal haunting episode where the Shinsengumi yet again has to work together with Odd Jobs Gin in order to find out if there really is a ghost haunting them and how they might exorcise it. While Gin and Hijikata’s interactions were easily the highlight, I also loved the continued clashing between Kagura and Okita, and some jokes like the ‘gorilla’ bit and Hijikata’s obsessive need for mayonaise. And the “ghost” turning out to be a mosquito alien was...sure a choice.

Talentless Nana - Finally continued with the episode to bring a temporary halt to the conflict Nana had with Jin, though he’s still around and following his own agenda, and got more adorable bits with Michiru and Nana being actual girlfriends, with Nana clearly having very genuine fondness for Michiru even as she tries to stay in denial and not get too attached to an “enemy of humanity.” I have to call bullshit on Nana’s backstory since I’m sure it didn’t happen exactly the way she described it, and the constant references to Yuuka Sasaki bother me ‘cause they almost position her as the more important character she wasn’t allowed to be. A really intriguing point to end it on, though - that Jin’s words about Nana’s murders drawing out a true psychopath among the students who also murders others seems to have come true. Both Nana and Kyouya are clueless now!

AND

Don’t Toy With Me Miss Nagatoro: 2nd Attack - Finished the season and have to give my closing thoughts, which are...meh, it was just fine and there were episodes and character moments that were enjoyable, but on the whole, Season 1 was better and will stick with me more. I feel like the first half of this season had a lot of tepid material and weak plots that were done no service by the show opting to drop the “two stories per episode” format, but at least the main characters relationship was still endearing and their antics amusing. I think only episode 3 and episode 5 really worked for me. Then the second half had a lot more improved material, but the issue was, shockingly, with the two leads. I’ve said before that I’ve never felt any need for their dynamic and thus the whole series and its narrative to go blatantly romantic, but goddammit they went there and it just wasn’t landing for me. I don’t buy that Nagatoro and Senpai have been through enough to make a strong romantic loving connection with each other yet. Also, while the final episode ends on a really beautiful, heartwarming final scene, it kind of doesn’t fit with the rest of that episode and thus feels unearned and out of nowhere compared to the end of Season 1. I’m glad that 2nd Attack happened since I don’t think it’d be fair to leave Nagatoro-San as a footnote anime, but it’s more dime-a-dozen RomCom than what came before.

[isagisyoichi]

VERY VERY VERY

SYNOPSIS: attractive things they do

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi, bachira, chigiri, kunigami, raichi, gagamaru, naruhaya, nagi, reo, rin, sae, niko, shidou, yukimiya, nanase, hiori

WARNINGS: none actually

A/N: this is my apology for the ick headcanons 🥰 anyways happy LATE valentine's day (i meant to post this two days ago but forgot lol) y'all mwah i hope you guys enjoy

ISAGI YOICHI: when he gets flustered or starts to feel shy, isagi does that thing where he sheepishly rubs his hand behind his neck and smiles. the way he looks when he gets in the zone during a game is just oh so attractive. the way isagi just does a whole 180° in personality on the field and confidence he exudes is just so *heart eyes* you're always in awe of your boyfriend's duality.

BACHIRA MEGURU: has no problems showing you off. the type to cling onto you or kiss you in front of his friends, the team, anyone really, because he's that in love with you. also 100% lets you do his make up whenever you want. and he's genuinely interested in what everything is and what it does, and asks a lot of questions. be forewarned though, if he finds them, bachira will use your falsies as a fake mustache and begin to speak in a french accent for fun.

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE: likes to put one hand in the back of jean pocket and let his other arm wrap around your neck when you two walk together. he finds it more romantic than handholding, actually. he's respectful to everyone, but kunigami truly holds the utmost respect for his mom and sisters. you can see how much kunigami loves and appreciates them, and it just makes you melt. also likes to surprise you with flowers sometimes for no reason other than he just simply thinks you deserve them :)

CHIGIRI HYOUMA: looks sooo good when he runs his hands through his hair. even though it's such a normal guy thing to do, he manages to make it look super attractive, almost like he came straight out a movie or something. chigiri has this habit of rolling his eyes when he's annoyed or pissed off. you know you shouldn't find it as attractive as you do, but something about all the attitude in the action just makes your brain go god he's hot.

RAICHI JINGO: says you can dress however you want because he can fight. (and the answer is yes, yes he actually can.) and when the occasion calls for it, raichi will give you the best hugs ever. he holds you so tight, like it's the last time he'll be able to, and it makes you never ever want him to let go. he uses his one of his hands to stroke your head lovingly at the same time, as alternates between whispering soft and sweet, "i love you's" and placing faint kisses on you. every time you're in raichi's arms, you feel like you're home.

GAGAMARU GIN: lets you paint his nails, but as long as you let him pick out the color. he's very intrigued by the process, and watches intently as you skillfully apply the polish. one day, gagamaru even asks to paint yours, and actually does pretty well. gagamaru's also good with kids, surprisingly. he finds them fun to talk to, and always entertains them in whatever they want to make conversation about. once, you caught him conversing with your six year old cousin about the scu (spongebob cinematic universe.)

NARUHAYA ASAHI: the way he cares for his family makes your heart so, so warm. he truly does go above and beyond for them. sometimes you just sit and thank the universe that you're lucky to have someone with a good of a heart as him. even though he's known for stealing other people's food, naruhaya never hesitates to give you any of his. in fact, he practically forces you to take a bite and eat. he cares about you a lot and wants you to be as healthy as possible.

NAGI SEISHIRO: is really touchy, you would soon come to find out. he has to be touching you someway- resting his head on top of yours, his hand on your thigh, his hand holding yours, yeah, he's a clingy one. don't even try moving him off either, it's useless. nagi's just gonna place himself right back to where he was before. nagi is also an avid wearer of sweatpants and basketball shorts when he's at home, and he looks damn good in them. as doja cat once said, "awooga!"

MIKAGE REO: even when you guys are fighting, reo always texts you "goodnight." it doesn't even matter to him if you don't respond, reo just doesn't want the last thing you hear from him before you sleep to be something bad. reo was raised to be a gentleman, so he does all the classics- holds open the door for you, offers you his coat whenever he sees you're the slightest bit cold, you know the usual. it's like you're dating someone straight out of a shoujo anime.

ITOSHI RIN: his morning voice sounds sooo nice. it's the right amount of raspy and sleepy, and you just wanna listen to him talk forever. sometimes when he practices at home, rin wears old shirts that are just a little too short on him, and so you can see his abs when he stretches. sometimes when he catches you looking, rin'll joke that "staring isn't polite," in his usual deadpan manner.

ITOSHI SAE: says stuff like "hm?" "oh yeah?" "mhm." even though it's incredibly bare minimum, something about his voice and those words sends you into orbit. sae also uses the top of his pointer finger to lift your chin to make you look up at him when he wants your undivided attention. and believe me, it works every time because when you're face to face with sae, it's very hard to pay attention to anything else.

NIKO IKKI: has almost zero internet presence. niko has like sixty followers on instagram, the last time he tweeted was in 2018, and he thinks snapchat is stupid. what a man he is, truly. and although this may be slightly hypocritical of him, niko always moves your hair out your face when you talk so he can see you better. and of course, you always return the favor by moving his hair out of his face so you can see niko better. he never fails to blush at your actions, and it's seriously the cutest thing ever.

SHIDOU RYUSEI: is the type lean on the wall or the side of a surface when he talks to you. you always get a good view of his toned arms and honestly, something about the way he casually leans closer into you when he can't hear just makes your head spin. ryusei has a thing for casual commands, stuff like "c'mere, sit with me," or "tell me about your day, baby." it's so simple, but so, so attractive.

NANASE NIJIROU: is so cute when he gets excited. nanase's eyes light up like fireworks in the middle of the summer, the enthusiasm in his voice can be heard from a mile away, and he had this adorable little habit of bouncing up and down a little, too. animals really like him. they kinda just flock to him, and nanase has no problems with this. cats in particular seem to have really taken a liking to him. he's really sweet to them, as well and it takes everything for nanase not to just bring every animal he sees home.

YO HIORI: has a tendency to buy oversized sweaters to wear during the cold months. he looks really good im them , but sometimes they're a little too big, especially at the sleeves, so hiori gets sweaterpaws and he looks absolutely adorable. hiori has a really nice singing voice. most of the time, he hums a little to himself when he's not thinking too much about it, but he doesn't really sing on his own accord. but, if you asked nicely, he'd totally sing you to sleep with his dulcet, honey-like voice.

YUKIMIYA KENYU: if soccer wasn't his passion, yuki could one hundred percent be a dancer. the way he moves so smoothly makes it look like he's been doing this his whole life. and when he looks as good as he does, you can never pass up the chance to join him on the dancefloor. being a literal model may have given him a little advantage, but yuki can dress so, so well. he's like a walking pinterest board, and he's always down to dress you up, too.

[jamesbuchananbarnesslut]

Monster Hunter Ch. 1

Pairing: Will Ransome x Female Reader

Words: 1,516

Summary: The year was 1893 in Aldwinter Essex and William Ransome, vicar, has been battling with his towns people and the myth of monsters. Especially, after strange things keep happening in town, most recently an earthquake and even children and locals reporting the sighting of a blackwater beast. Although Will, himself doesn't believe in monsters he's been struggling to convince the town people otherwise. The problem further escalates when men of the town all begin having similar dreams and describe the same woman appearing in them. After each person has these dreams, they seem to be weaker either physically or mentally and, in most cases, have been found dead. The dreams also only started occurring after a new spinster named Y/N moved in on the outskirts of town. With all the increasing rumors, Will is forced to step in and begin to decipher what's happening especially whether he believes these things are real.  

Warnings: yes there is smut in the first piece, but it’s just with Will’s wife. Fingering and P in the V

Tiny Tag List: @venusofthehardsells @spooky1980

Notes: This story first of all wouldn’t be happening without @venusofthehardsells she was the on who first introduced me to these Tom Hiddleston photos. Which in thus created a thirst and need for a fic. But the fic is now a series! I also have not actually read The Essex Serpent and have no idea how the show is going to go, so this is my OWN interpretation and telling of his character. Please enjoy, like, reblog, and leave lots of comments!

Master List

Series Master List

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

Will's P.O.V

I had spent another long grueling day arguing with the members of my communion about whether the myths and monsters circulating our small town were real. The rumors began last summer and only thus worsened. I'm at my wits end with it all, and just need a way to qualm what the town is currently feeling. As I worked my way back into my office, I couldn't help but think that the new spinster, Y/N, on the outskirts of town had to have something to do with this all. Considering she had moved in around last summer when the blackwater beast stories first presented themselves. But now that she, herself, was appearing in men's dreams, and then a lot of those men found dead. It was suspicious and she surely has something to do with it all, maybe if not monsters and myths than some type of black magic or witchery.  

By the time I made it back to my office I couldn't help but pull out my hidden bottle of gin and pour myself a drink before I sat down. I manage to swallow the drink all in one swig and end up pouring myself another. Sitting down at my desk with the bottle, I press my fingers to my temples and hunch over the desk. Pondering what's been happening to my small town and why everything's suddenly topsy-turvy. I also can't help but think about how this is going to further affect the towns faith in God, especially thier view him. While my thoughts are still swirling, I throw back my second drink and decide to pour another.  

As if I have a chance to relax though, there's an overflowing pile of paperwork on my desk I still need to sort out. As well as a stack of mail that's been neglected for far too long. That's when I decide it's time to down my third drink and start sorting through the paperwork and at least categorizing it. By the time I finish organizing I have a stack of marriage certificates, christenings, new memberships, and even a decent amount of death certificates. The mail will have to wait until the morning I haven't been home all week; I keep falling asleep in my office or waking up somewhere in the pews. But I know my wife is beginning to worry and I should probably make my way home before I get stuck here.  

I pour myself one final drink for the road, throw it back and begin to push myself to my feet. I tuck the gin back in its hiding place within the bookshelf and begin to shut down the building while heading out. Specifically, blowing out all the candles, turning off oil lamps and locking the doors. Even in a buzzed stupor those are things I never forget.  

I stumble down the steps of the church and make it to the cobblestone street heading towards home. Even though there aren't many streetlamps providing light, there's a clear sky and a full moon making everything gleam and glisten in the dark. As I continue my march home, I pass one of the local pubs and see none other than Y/N, herself outside it. Conversing with John Smith, one of the older blacksmiths. It seems to be a deep intimate moment, that I interrupt by holding my gaze towards them too long. Catching their attention and weird glares back. I tip my head to them and continue walking, hoping I haven't soured their mood.  

By the time I make it home, I can see all the oil lamps are off and two candles going, one in my bedroom meaning the Mrs.'s is up reading or waiting for me. And one in the kitchen, she must have put leftovers out for me. How many times has that this happened this week? I don't want to disturb anybody, so I enter the house through the rear door that leads directly into the kitchen. There's a plate of cold food on the table for me, that I scarf down ravenously. With how little I've been home; I really haven't been eating either. Once I'm done, I rinse off the dishes, setting them aside to be washed in the morning and blow out the candle.  

I slowly make my way upstairs and begin to plot ways to get myself out of this argument with my wife. Maybe because the kids were still sleeping, she'd put off the spat and wait till she sent them off too school or her parents. Either way I wasn't prepared to walk in and find her sitting naked in the candlelight. It's almost like she knew I'd finally make my way home tonight. That or she's been truly waiting each night like this for my return home. Either way I didn't deserve a woman as good as her.  

Her sultry voice broke my shocked stupor, "I was beginning to wonder when I'd ever see you again."

I run my hands through my hair, a nervous habit, and work up a response, "you know, I can't rest easy until I convince everyone that this blackwater serpent isn't real. And now I have reports of Y/N appearing in men's dreams and a lot of those men begin found dead within a couple days or weeks shortly thereafter."

I must have been running my mouth because by the time I look to my wife again she is already up from the bed and stripping me of my clothing.  

"I understand that this is a huge deal honey, but you can't keep burning the candle at both ends and pushing yourself like this," she states while finishing pulling the reaming clothes from my body. "Come, join me in bed maybe if I provide my wifely duties, I can help break you out of this stump." Which is followed by her hands caressing my chest and moving up towards my neck, face and into my hair. Where she pulls my gaze to hers to get a clear look in my eyes. I know she can see how tired and stressed out I am.  

I let her pull me into bed, she makes it so I land on top of her, and I can't help but agree that now would be a good time to have sex. It also means she isn't mad or at least she's trying to amend things this way instead. I begin to kiss her and settle myself in between her legs where my member begins to harden against her. Our kissing becomes passionate, and I feel her entrance slicken. I slide my fingers along her slit and begin to spread her wetness around causing mewls to spill from her mouth into mine. Once she's decently wet, I slip a finger and then two into her, working them at a steady pace. While I move my lips to her chest and tell her she must quiet herself or else she'll wake the children in a hushed mummer.  

After I feel her cum around my finger, I work that same hand over my member, making sure to get it nice and wet. Then I line myself up with her entrance and push in slowly, while putting my hand over her mouth.  

"You just can't help yourself tonight my dear," I mumble into her ear while giving her a chance to adjust to my member in her. She bites my hand, a clear sign I need to get a move on, and I begin to push myself in and out of her tight channel. The pace isn't slow for long though and I begin pounding into her. Her whines spilling out but muffled behind my hand.  

"I know your close again, cum with me yeah?" She nods and with that I drop my hips lower changing the angle. Which immediately triggers her orgasm, causing her tight channel to milk me and pushing me into my orgasm. I pump my seed into her and then roll of to the side. Pulling her tightly into my arms I drift off into sleep thinking about Y/N, John Smith, and the rumors circulating our small town.  

[softboywriting]

Fight For You | Part 1

Summary: Your whole adult life you’ve dated mixed martial arts fighters, it comes naturally with working and living in and around the fighting circuits. After a fallout with your now ex-boyfriend you find a new place to start a new life where you find someone who is willing to fight for you as much as you are for him. Will you be able to build something beautiful or will your past come back to haunt you? [fighting] [asshole ex]

Word Count: 13k

Authors Note:  None of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics on any platform.

|Masterlist In Bio|

Moving to a new town in a new state is a fresh start for you. After a rough year dealing with an asshole boyfriend, leaving said boyfriend and losing your job, you have to find a new place in life. The world is a clean slate for you and Red Lake is where you’re ready to put down some roots and start over. Your best friend Jodi and her wife live there and they’re the closest thing to a real family you have left so choosing Red Lake was a no brainer.

"So, how's the apartment?" Jodi asks as she unlocks the back door of the gym where she works. Her wife Harlow is the owner and a former female MMA fighter. "It's not too shitty I hope."

"Oh I didn't get the apartment. I got the house on Garden Plaza. The one Harlow said her friend was renting out."

"Oh yeah! Fuck, I totally forgot." Jodi holds the door open for you and you wander into the back storage room. It's full of old mats and various pieces of equipment in need of repair. "When does the truck arrive with your stuff?"

"This week. The drivers said tomorrow but I'm not counting on it."

Jodi pushes open the door to the main hallway to the gym floor and nearly smacks into someone. "Holy shit!" She leans on the door and you step forward to see who she hit or just got scared by.

"Are you okay?" A voice says from beyond the door and a head pops out. "Sorry Jodi."

"God! Why are you here so early!" Jodi asks, ushering you out into the hall. She closes the door and you see a guy in a fitted black shirt and a pair of grey sweats standing behind the door. He's oddly familiar.

"Harlow asked me to come in and...wipe down the mats." The guy stares at you and you stare back. You know him. Those chocolate curls, soft eyes, and sharp jawline are unmistakably familiar. You just can't put your finger on it.

Jodi waves her hand in front of his face. "Shawn? Earth to Shawnie boy!"

Shawn Pierce. Shit, yeah it's coming back to you. Tate trained with him about a year ago when he was trying to get into the western region MMA championship circuit. You were never properly introduced but you did talk a few times. Tate didn't bring you by the gym a lot, he claimed you distracted him.

"You're Tate Greyson's girlfriend right?"

"Ex." Jodi snorts and you shove her shoulder. Shawn raises his eyebrows.

"I was, yes. We're not together anymore." You chuckle and shake your head. "Not that we were ever that together in the first place."

Shawn narrows his eyes at you and you shift uncomfortably. "Did he hit you?"

"What?" Your eyes go wide.

"The bruise on your collarbone."

Jodi leans in and pulls your shirt aside a little bit. "Oh shit, what happened?"

Suddenly you remember the bruise in question. You had fallen off the step ladder in your apartment back home while taking down your plant hangers. "I fell while packing up my apartment." You pull your shirt back to show Jodi more of the yellowing bruise. "I swear Tate never hit me. It's been months since I've seen him."

"Oh thank God." Jodi sighs and pulls out her keys. "I'd kill him myself if he touched you."

Shawn steps back and rubs his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything."

You lean against the wall as Jodi walks up the stairs to her office door. "No, it's fine. Tate is a bit of a loose cannon, but he never hit me."

"Yeah, he was a tough one." Shawn folds his arms, stretching the tee across his chest and you can't help but stare. He shakes his head. "He never did like to listen, always just wanted to swing hard and fast, no finesse."

"Should have seen him in bed. Same tactic."

Shawn's eyes widen and you realize you didn't really need to tell him that. You flush and he just laughs. "Man he must have pissed you off if you're out here dragging him like this."

"Yeah he did." You roll your eyes at the thought of Tate. Everything he did pissed you off. Silence falls between the two of you and you push off the wall. "I'll see you around?"

"I'm here just about every day." He puts his hand out for you awkwardly and you take it, giving an oddly formal shake. "Are you going to be here a lot?"

"Dunno. I got a job at Dixie's down the street but I work nights. So I might come around a bit."

Shawn drops your hand and runs his hand over his hair. "A waitress?"

"Bartender." You smirk and he grins. "You can stop by, I make a good gin and tonic. I'm allowed discounts for family and friends."

"I'm a friend then, eh?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll be a friend." You look him over and bite your lip. "Maybe more."

Shawn grins and you can't miss the pink that spreads across his cheeks. "You're bold. I like that." He steps back and turns to go out to the main floor. "I should get back to those mats now."

"Mmmhmm." You wave him off. "See ya."

Jodi clicks her tongue and you steps out of her office. "You are so predictable." She says from the top of the stairs.

You jog up to meet her and give her a look. "What? Because I think he's hot?"

"No, because he's a fighter." Jodi rolls her eyes and sinks into her chair as you follow her into the large room. "You only date fighters."

"Says the woman who married one!"

"Hey, I don't count. Harlow is the only fighter I ever dated and I didn't even know she was a fighter when we started going out."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. So I got a type. Whoopty do."

"At least Shawn's a good one."

"You saying I have poor taste?"

Jodi picks up a few large envelopes and stares at you over them. "You're joking right? Tate? Remember that hot garbage of a few months ago?"

"Yeah but Chase before him wasn't garbage."

"Chase was a two month fling while you worked the circuit with me. Was he ever anything?"

You flop down onto the couch under the window that overlooks the gym. "I guess not. So what, Shawn's a fighter and I like fighters. Maybe he'll be a keeper."

"Ex fighter."

"Hmm?"

"Shawn's an ex fighter." Jodi types aways at her computer and you wait for her to continue. "He doesn't fight anymore. What?"

"He doesn't? Why? He looked healthy."

"Personal choice. Harlow has been trying to book him on the circuit for years. He keeps in shape and trains other fighters for Harlow but he's not getting in that ring for anything. It's a shame, he was a two time champion."

You look out the window to where Shawn is running along the mats on the far side of the gym with a towel. You wonder what made him stop competing. A guy like him could take out anyone his weight. No doubt. You'd seen him spare with Tate once when he trained with him. Shawn has the skill, what would drive him to waste it?

_____________________

Dixie's is a hole in the wall kind of place. Definitely a local spot and everyone in town goes there. It's a bar and restaurant that serves your classic American staples, burgers, fries, steak and sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but the food is good and homemade. The day time crowd at Dixie's is mostly families, regular customers on their lunch breaks or afternoon meetups, occasionally a truck driver or two since it's on the edge of the town. The night time crowd at Dixie's is much different, very adult orientated. They didn't let kids in after eight since that's when most of the drunks and party goers start showing up. Most people know to avoid Dixie's for a late dinner lest you be caught up in a fight or have to listen to some guy babble on about the good ole days for four hours.

You work the night shift at the bar. You don't mind, you tended places much worse. Hell, you lived in Vegas for a year after graduation and that's where you learned to bartend. When you're raised in hell, the rest of the world doesn't seem so bad.

"Hey! You made it!" Carrie says from the door to the kitchen. "I was worried you wouldn't come back after last week."

"What? Greg? Please, I've dealt with a lot worse then having a drink thrown at me and being called a raging bitch." You place your purse under the counter behind the bar in a little safe. Carrie didn't fuck around when it came to safety and personal belongings in her bar.

"Oh thank God. Greg is an asshole but if you made it through the night with him I think you'll be alright."

"I worked in Vegas, Carrie." You grab your apron off the wall beside her. "I've seen shit. Greg, ain't shit."

Carrie looks incredibly relieved. "I've had four bartenders walk out because of him."

"Yeah, well, they weren't me." You wave to one of the waitresses, Sammy, coming in for her shift. The two of you hit it off really well last week so you're excited to work with her tonight."Besides, I'd like to stick around."

Carrie pushes open the kitchen door and you follow her in. "Oh yeah? Find a love interest?"

"I don't think I'd call him that yet. But I'm definitely interested." You grab a few plates off the warming table to help Carrie serve them. "We've met before."

"Oh wow, coincidence huh? You just moved here right?"

"Yeah. It's so weird, but he's a fighter who trained with my ex boyfriend a year ago. I guess I'm bound to meet people from the same circuit."

Carrie chuckles and leads the way with her arms full of plates. "You like those fighters huh? We got a lot of those type around here."

"I do." You fall silent as you help Carrie serve the large group of middle aged people at the front of the seating area. As soon as you're done Carrie walks with you to the bar.

"Anyway, those fighters are always coming in here. I don't mind the business of course, they eat a lot. But some of them also drink alot and bar fights between fighters is a nightmare."

"Don't worry, I can handle them." You wipe out some glasses on the drying station and Carrie starts going through the liquor stock to see what she needs to bring out of the back for the night. "I swear, I'm sticking around."

Carrie pauses and looks over at you. "You seem pretty set on it."

"Yeah, I am. Things are good here. I have my own place, I'm near my best friend, there's a hot fighter who I wanna get to know. It's good. A fresh start."

"I'm happy for you dear." Her hand comes down on your shoulder and you look over at her. She's smiling, her big round glasses sitting too low on her nose. She blows a stray curl out of her face and pats your shoulder a few times. "You're a good kid."

"I try to be." You chuckle. "Anyway, looks like it's kicking off early tonight." You point at a group of guys who have just walked in, some fighters by the looks of them. Out of circuit fighters, the kind who drink too much and let their bodies get weakened by alcohol. You scoff to yourself. Frat boys with too many muscles and big dreams but no dedication. A bunch of Tate Greysons'. It's gonna be a long night.

___________________

"Pierce! Focus!" Harlow yells from the office doorway at the top of the stairs. Shawn is standing in the ring with his client for the day but he keeps looking over at you where you're talking to Jodi near the bathrooms.

You look over and bite your lip, knowing you got him in trouble. "Anyways, as I was saying," you turn back to Jodi and she's grinning. "What?"

"Harlow is gonna kick his ass if he doesn't stop gawking at you." She looks up at her wife through the window and she's pacing the office, watching Shawn like a hawk. "You're quite a distraction."

"I don't mean to be. I'm just standing here for fucks sake." You gesture to your jeans and plain tee shirt. "I'm not even dressed up!"

Jodi laughs. "Shawn's just soft, he's got your attention and he doesn't want to lose it. I don't know the last time he had a girlfriend."

"Really?" You look back. "A guy like him has been single for-" Shawn gets clocked in the head. "Oh shit."

Jodi sighs. "Moron."

You jog over to the ring and hold onto the cage, staring at Shawn on the ground. "Are you okay?!"

"Dude, you went down like a sack of bricks." The other fighter says, kneeling on one knee beside Shawn. "Dude?"

"Is he knocked out?" You ask, walking along the ring to climb the stairs at the open entryway. "Shawn?"

"I haven't been hit that hard in years." Shawn groans, eyes closed. "Good left hook, Connor."

"Thanks, but for real are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Shawn sits up and holds his head. "Y'know no matter how many fights you're in, and how much training you do, getting hit hurts worse when you're not expecting it."

"Getting hit hurts in general." You laugh and help him up on his feet. "And you would have expected it if you weren't staring at me."  

Connor snickers.

"I was not staring." Shawn stretches his arms and shakes off the hit.

"Yeah? Why'd you get hit then?"

"We're sparing."

"Uh huh." You look to Connor. "Did he seem distracted?"

"Very."

"Mmm thought so." You turn and walk out of the cage with a glance back with a small smile.

Shawn calls out to you as you cross the gym floor. "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?!"

"Stop staring at me and actually talk to me is what it means!" You laugh and meet up with Jodi outside the office. "God he's ridiculous."

"He hasn't asked you out yet?"

"No! It's been a week since we met. He just stares at me when I'm here and occasionally says no more than four words to me." You glance over and Shawn and Connor have changed positions so Shawn is with his back to you. "I think he's shy."

"Shawn? Nah. He's sweet, always has been. I think he's just cautious because he knows you just got out of a relationship, and one with a former trainee of his too. I'd be cautious."

"Well light a fire under his ass for me will you?"

Jodi gives you a thumbs up. "I'll get right on that boss. Matchmaker Jodi Price is on the case!"

"Oh shut up. Just talk to him?"

"I will." Jodi grabs her keys from Harlow as she steps out of the office. "We'll be back later honey."

"I'll pick up dinner." Harlow looks out at Connor and Shawn. "If I'm late it's because I've got two man-children to deal with."

"Easy on him. He's got feelings for our girl here."

Harlow rolls her eyes. "I don't pay him to have feelings."

"You're such a hardass, Harlow." You laugh and she smirks. "I promise I'll try not to stop in too much when he's training Connor."

"Yeah yeah." Harlow waves you off. "Get out of here, go have fun."

"Picking up furniture at Ikea isn't fun." Jodi says in annoyance.

"Mmhmm. Sure its not. Bye bye." Harlow walks toward the window to the gym floor and you wave goodbye.

"Come on." You put your arm around Jodi's shoulders. "Let's go build some skeptical furniture and relive the good ole days."

Jodi laughs. "Yeah, the good ole days of duct taped chair legs and book balanced tables. God I hope these Ikea things will be better than our crap back then."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

_____________________

Building furniture is a nightmare. You and Jodi spend an hour putting together a dresser that you end up abandoning in favor of Chinese take out and a rerun of Chopped you hadn't seen before while sitting on the boxes for your nightstand and kitchen cart. You still have both of those items plus your bed frame to build. You'll get to it eventually.

Eventually leads to three days later and you still have the boxes propped against the wall of your living room where you and Jodi abandoned them after dinner. Every day you walk past them and think, maybe that day, but then you keep going. It's not until today, Friday, your day off, that you might actually get them built.

"Hey, what're you doing tonight?" Shawn asks as he steps down out of the cage. You've been watching him spar with one of the other trainers for an hour now after stopping by to help Jodi read over some paperwork for the gyms lease.

"Me?"

He grins. "Yeah, you."

"Building furniture for my house."

He chuckles and sinks into the chair next to you, observing two fighters now sparing on the mats nearby. "Sounds like a wild time."

"Oh it will be. I'll probably decide to get drunk halfway through and just say fuck it again." You laugh to yourself. "Drunk lonely furniture building on a Friday night. I've reached my peak at age twenty four."

"Need some help?" Shawn looks over and you raise your eyebrows. He is really making a move. Finally.

"You sure you don't have some floors to clean or something?" You ask, referencing the last time he tried to get out of your attempt to instigate a date. He is a weird one, definitely interested but hesitant for some reason. You get what Jodi said, about him being cautious because of your past with Tate but it's been almost five months. You're ready to move the fuck on. You gotta make it clear to this man you're ready.

Shawn smiles and looks away. "Okay, fair enough. Just call me out why don't you?"

"Yeah? You realize you've been dragging this out?"

"Yeah yeah. So can I come over?"

You grin and cross your arms. "I guess. What do you drink?"

"Tequila?" He says with a smirk as he starts unwrapping his hands.

"I'm not buying tequila. I don't know about you but tequila fucks me up and I will make some bad decisions."

"Me too, maybe we should go for it then."

"Absolutely not." You reach over and grab Shawn's hand as he picks at a piece of the fabric that's tucked too tightly under another. "How about we just start with some hard lemonade or something?"

Shawn smiles and closes his big hand over yours. "It's a date then?"

"Is it a date?"

"Could be."

"Let's just call it hanging out for now." You place the coiled up wad of wrapping fabric in Shawn's hand. "Now, I'm going to get lunch at Dixie's. You want something?"

"Nah, I brought lunch." Shawn looks over at the sitting area where Harlow has set up a refrigerator, a stand with a microwave and a few little tables with chairs. "Leftover chicken and rice."

You stand and Shawn stands with you. He flexes his hand a few times to work out the stiffness of it being bound too tight in the wrapping. You head for the office stairs to see if the ladies want lunch too. "I'll let you know when I'm heading home so you can follow me."

"Works for me."

"Oh, and don't wrap your hand so tight next time." You point at his hand. "You should know better."

Shawn grins sheepishly. "Maybe someone else should wrap it for me?"

"Maybe." You smile and he just grins.

_____________________

"Hey Jodi have you seen- oh." Shawn leans against the door as he looks between you and Jodi on the couch in the office. It's almost seven and you had completely lost track of time.

"Yeah?"

"Whatcha doing?"

Jodi holds her half wrapped hand up to show Shawn. "Teaching her to wrap."

Shawn smirks. "Your ex never taught you?"

"Tate didn't like having me around too much when he was fighting. He said I distracted him. So I didn't get to wrap his hands but once or twice."

"What a dick. Well I'm done cleaning up for the day, are you ready to go?"

Jodi raises her eyebrows. "Y'all have a date? And you didn't tell me?"

"It's not a date." You roll your eyes. "He's just going to help me with the furniture."

"So he's gonna be at your house with you alone?"

"Yes." You stand and Jodi unwinds her hand. "Now don't say another word missy." Jodi just snickers and you grab your purse. "Let's go Shawn."

An hour into furniture building and you're sure you're going to combust. Shawn is so big and thick, and close. He's in a pair of tight black jeans and a black tank top, having forgone his shirt almost as soon as you started working. He is just...he's too much. You thought Tate was big, you thought Tate was ripped and he was but not like Shawn. The way Shawn is built and the way he moves so fluidly is just...it's enough to stop your heart.

"Hey, hello?" He waves his hand in your face. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yeah?"

Shawn chuckles and leans back on his forearms. "What'd I say?"

"Hello?"

"Nope. I asked you if you wanted to get dinner."

"Oh." You push your hair back out of your face and look up at the clock over your kitchen table. "It's almost eight. Shit."

"So? Do you work tomorrow?"

"Yeah in the evening, but I didn't mean to keep you this late."

"It's not late?" Shawn laughs. "It's no big deal. I'm off tomorrow. I'll order something and we'll keep putting together this bed frame, sleeping on a mattress on the floor is bad for your back."

"Mmmhmm. Sure you don't just want to stay late to get me on this bed after we put it together?"

Shawn sits up, leans forward onto his hands and knees, face close to yours as he pushes himself up off the floor. "Oh I'll be much more upfront when I wanna do that." He pulls out his phone and you flush hot. "What sounds good? Pizza? Wings? Chinese?"

"Don't you need to eat healthy?"

"I do." He smiles over at you. "It's alright to indulge now and then."

"Oh."

"None of this is going away because I eat some pizza now and then." He gestures up and down himself. "I know that sounds incredibly pretentious but I worked hard for this strength. I'm having pizza." He puts the phone up to his ear and walks around the room aimlessly as it rings.

"Tate never wanted to get dinner. He said it'd ruin his diet." You stand and look around at the scattered pieces of the bed frame and your stomach rumbles loudly.

"Yeah because he was an idiot." Shawn says softly before answering the phone and placing an order for a medium taco pizza.

You raise your eyebrows and he grins. How did he happen to know your favorite pizza? There was no way he could have known or guessed. Taco pizza was not an every day order.

"Thank you bye." He pockets his phone. "Anyway Tate was obsessed with his eating habits. I remember sitting him down and explaining that he actually needs to eat real food and not protein shakes and supplements for every meal. He didn't ever listen though."

"Yeah he was an idiot, okay, but how did you know I like taco pizza?"

"Wild guess."

"Uh uh. Who told you?"

Shawn holds his hands up. "Honest to God, you want the truth?"

"Yeah. Who was it?"

"No one. Seriously, it was a wild guess. I like taco pizza and I noticed you have little taco magnets on the fridge and a taco pillow on your couch so I figured maybe you like them too. Seriously, it was a shot in the dark."

You stare at him slack jawed. He had been in your house for an hour and he noticed your taco magnets? That was...just so...weird? What else did he notice? You look around your room suddenly very self conscious of everything you have sitting on the dresser and nightstand. "I...I don't know what to say about that."

"About what?"

"About how observant you are."

"Oh. Should I not be?"

"N-no, I mean, it's fine? I've just never had someone pay attention to my stuff I guess."

Shawn chuckles and gets down on his knees to start taking the rest of the bed frame pieces from the box. You definitely don't miss how his ass is perfectly accentuated by the dip of his jeans. "Well, I like your place, it's interesting and cozy. Sorry if that's weird, I don't mean it to be."

"It's fine." You get down next to him, eyes still on his butt and he hands you a bag of screws. "It's just different. You're different." He leans forward to grab a bar from the frame and the way his back curves makes you want to grab his ass so bad. It's perfectly round and you just want to feel it so badly.

He glances over with a smile as he sits back on his knees. "Is that good?"

"W-what?" You feel a flush on your cheeks. Was he talking about your staring? Was he good? Because yes, a thousand times yes he was.

"Is it good that I'm different?"

"Oh! Yeah, very good." You smile and look down with a chuckle as you dump the bag of screws into a little Tupperware bowl he hands you that you've been using for small parts so nothing gets lost. "I like different."

"Me too." He grins and you meet his eyes. "Let's get this bed together so we can relax when the pizza gets here."

"Sounds like a plan."

_____________________

"Busy night?"

You look up from the back of the bar and see Shawn sitting a few seats down from you. He's smiling, hair pushed back looking like a damn angel in his white tee. The bar has been crowded for two hours now, a huge bachelor party of some sort taking up most of the space in the building. You and Sammy have been working double time to get food and drinks out as quick as possible. Big parties of guys meant big tips, keep them happy, keep that tip growing.

"Yeah." You glance over to the loud crowd nearby. "Bachelor party."

"I see. Must be fun?"

"For me or them?"

"Both?"

You chuckle and walk down to stand in front of him. "Is it fun making drinks? Yes. Is it fun watching a bunch of twenty some year olds get hammered while getting hit on by every one of them? Not so much."

Shawn waves off a drink offer as you gesture to the bar behind you. "I just came by to see how you were doing. You haven't been by the gym in a few days."

"Oh, you noticed." You lean back and smile. "I've been working doubles. Carrie has had a cold and I didn't want her to push herself. I'm a lot younger, I can't handle a few days of work."

Shawn cracks open a peanut from the bucket on the counter for customers. "You're a sweetheart." He grins and pops the peanut in his mouth. "Glad you're alright though."

"Did you think I was avoiding you?"

"Nah. Well, a little?" He chuckles and hangs his head. "Honestly I thought I fucked up the night we put together your bed."

You step forward and fold your arms on the counter in front of him. "I'd tell you if you fucked up. Trust me, you haven't done anything to put me off."

"Good. What do you say to lunch Wednesday?"

"I'd say I hope you like Dixie's pulled pork special because that's where I'll be."

"You work dayshift again?" He shakes his head.

"Yep. My last double."

"Okay, alright. I'll stop by?"

"I'd love it."

Shawn looks over at the party of guys getting loud again. "I'm gonna head out before that gets too wild. Stay safe honey."

"Bye Shawn." You roll your eyes at his ridiculous pet name and he waves as he heads out.

____________________

"How's Connor doing?" You ask as you watch the young fighter spar with one of the other guys while Shawn is taking a break in the office.  

"The kid is insane. He's fast, strong, smart too. He reminds me of myself when I was nineteen."

You look over and Shawn is tossing a stress ball up at the ceiling casually. "Connor is nineteen?"

"Yeah." He looks over with a grin. "Why? Thought he was cute?"

"Shawn! God, no. I'm just surprised Harlow took on a guy that young."

"I was too. I remember when Connor walked into this gym. He was a short little sixteen year old with no intention of doing anything but bulking up a bit."

"He didn't wanna be a fighter?"

"Nope." Shawn chuckles. "He came to take some HIIT classes and some CrossFit bullshit Harlow had let a trainer do for a few months. I think once he saw me and Mike in the ring he caught the bug."

You watch as Connor takes down his opponent, pinning him to the mat. Shawn's right, he is fast and strong for his size. His practice opponent is easily twenty pounds heavier than him and he is taking him down like it's nothing. "You think he's gonna make it to championship finals?"

"He going to make it to nationals if I have any say in it. He has what it takes, he's got the heart and soul of a fighter. You don't see that everyday. I've trained a lot of guys in the last few years and they just don't have what Connor has."

"Has any of your trainees made it to the championship circuit?"

"No. Not yet." Shawn looks over and you chuckle. "What? You think I'm not good at training?"

"Not that. I'm just laughing because your last trainee was Tate right?"

"Yeah."

"He definitely didn't have what it takes."

"He didn't. He couldn't listen, just wanted to do what he thought was right. You'd think when a two time western champion and two time national finalist takes the time to train you, you might try and give a fuck." Shawn sits up and squeezes the shit out of his stress ball. "Tate honest to God pissed me off like no other."

You raise your eyebrows and giggle. How funny it was that the two of you shared the same distaste for Tate. "He was something."

"No. He's nothing and he's never going to be until he gets his head out of his ass."

"Harsh."

"You think so? I'm sure you've thought the same thing."

You smirk. "I've definitely thought worse."

"And I'm harsh?"

"I haven't said it out loud." You scoff and lean back in Jodi's chair. "But someone should."

Shawn stands and walks over to the desk. He leans forward and smirks. "I'd tell that sorry piece of shit every single thing you wish you could say to him. I'd hand deliver it to him right in his smug fuckin jaw."

"Easy tiger." You run your hand up his arm, fingers curling against bicep and he drops his head. "No need for the violence. Fighting is an art not a brawl."

"You-"

"I'm using your own words against you?" You smirk and stand up, checking a message on your phone from Sammy about stopping by for tips from last night.

Shawn straightens up with a grin and shakes his head. "You remember me telling Tate that?"

"It's the first thing I ever heard you say to him."

"Tate is a dumbass for losing a woman like you, y'know?"

"Yeah." You walk around and past Shawn toward the door. "But if he wasn't, I wouldn't have ever found a man worth fighting for."

_____________________

Wednesday afternoon is a shit show. For some reason there are a couple day drinkers in at the bar and they won't stop bugging Sammy. She's covering a shift for one of the other waitresses, Megan, since it's her birthday and she's seriously regretting it. Day shift is supposed to be easy. The worst part being an occasional kid throwing food around. Poor girl.

"I just can't do it," Sammy hisses as she stands beside you at the end of the bar at the wash station. "That guy over there has been harassing me non stop. I've tried everything to get him to fuck off."

You take a look over at the end of the bar and you know exactly which guy it is. He's in his thirties, probably an insurance broker or real estate agent by the looks of his tailored suit and gray temples. He looks older than he should. There's a glass of whiskey in his hand that you served him about ten minutes ago. He's the one you were about to cut off and send packing anyways.

"Want me to make him leave?"

"Do you have a bouncer?" Sammy glances over your shoulder. "Because I don't think he's going to leave so easily."

"Well, how about we make him realize you're not into him?"

"By doing what?"

You smirk and set down your dirty glasses into the sink. "I can stage kiss you. I used to do it all the time with my friends back in Vegas." You look down at the guy. He'd definitely fall for it, he was too drunk to see straight. "We'll make a show of it."

"I don't know." Sammy twists her hands in her apron. "Maybe he'll just leave?"

"Sammy. He's not gonna leave if he thinks he has even an inkling of a chance." You pull Sammy down the bar closer to where the creep is sitting. "It's up to you. He's watching us right now."

"Okay, okay." She shakes her hands out and puts her hand on your shoulder, going up to your neck. You can see her glance over at the guy. "It's working he's watching intently."

"Good." You cup her cheek and bring your other hand up to here jaw and cover her mouth with the side or your palm as you pretend to kiss her. "Is he looking?"

"Mmhyeah."

You pull back and give Sammy a hug before going down the bar to the creep. "Do you need a refill on that?" You ask, pointing to his nearly empty glass. You weren't really going to give him a refill, he'd had more than enough.

"No." He grumbles and stands up. "I'm going home." He passes you his credit card and you settle his tab. "Thanks."

Sammy beams from her spot by the liquor shelves. "I can't believe that worked!"

"Almost every time." You walk over and hand her the ones the creep had left as a tip under his cup. "For you dear."

"Thanks." Sammy pockets the bills and smiles. "I wish I had you years ago."

"Well I'm here now." You ruffle her hair and she ducks away. "Do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Keep an eye out for Shawn? He is supposed to be coming in for lunch."

"Ohhh." Sammy smirks. "You got a little crush on the big boy?"

"Obviously." You toss your bar rag over your shoulder and head for a lady who's just walked up at the end of the bar. "How couldn't I?"

"He's a good one!" Sammy laughs and heads off to check on her tables while you get back to bartending.

_____________________

Shawn never showed up for lunch. You can't say you weren't a little disappointed since you had made plans, but you understand that he may have gotten busy at the gym. Things happen. It isn't a big deal.

You stop by the gym the next day to help Jodi with registration for the fall championship circuit for the western region. She had to have all of the fighters from Harlow's registered and ready to go by Monday. It is a ton of paperwork and you know what to do, so you volunteer to help out before work.

"Can you go get Jack for me? I need to talk to him about getting me a copy of his physical."

"Yep." You push away from her desk and head out the door. The locker rooms are to the right of the main floor of the gym and you head there first.

"Dude, I saw her kissing Sammy."

You freeze and listen to the conversation you've walked up on. It's clearly Shawn.

"So? What's the big deal?" It's Connor.

"I thought she was into me. We've been flirting and stuff and then I walk into Dixie's for lunch and she's kissing the waitress! I thought she was into guys!"

Connor laughs and sighs. "I dunno dude."

"I can be into both." You say, stepping into view and getting a good look at Shawn in nothing but a towel. He's dripping wet and it's so hard to focus on the conversation at hand, you have to look away. "Maybe if you wanted to know what was going on, you should ask me?"

Connor's eyes go wide and he looks between the two of you before ducking his head and squeezing around Shawn to make himself scarce.

"I know you can like whoever you want...I just thought..."

"Shawn." You walk over to him and lay your hand on his chest. He's warm and damp and oh Lord when he shifts you can feel the muscle flex. "Relax. I pretended to kiss Sammy so a guy at the bar would stop harassing her."

"Oh."

"Is that why you didn't show up for lunch?"

"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck. "I walked in and saw that kiss and I didn't know what to think. I'm sorry, I should have asked you."

"It's fine. I probably would have been really confused too." You look him over and he smirks. "I swear I'm still very much into you."

"Yeah? Enough to go on a real date?"

"Mmm I think it's time we did. Any plans?"

Shawn grins. "I have a few. How's this Saturday night sound?"

"I'm off. What time?"

"Six? I'll pick you up. Wear something comfortable and not too fancy."

You raise your eyebrows and he just keeps smiling. "Alright. I'll see you then. In the meantime, have you seen Jack? We need a copy of his latest physical for the registration."

"He's probably out on the floor. If you didn't see him, check the backroom because he might be resting on the spare mats."

"In the storage area?"

"Yeah." He chuckles. "He likes to meditate and listen to his audio books back there to relax."

"Oh. Well thanks." You pat Shawn's chest and he traps your hand under his, curling his fingers around yours. "Yes?"

He bites his lip and shakes his head before releasing your hand. "Nothing. Go on."

"See you in a bit."

_____________________

"Do you still do photography?" Harlow asks you Friday day while you, her and Jodi sit in their living room while going over travel plans for the out of state fights in this year's competition.

"A little bit. I don't do anything professionally anymore."

"But you have your camera?"

"Yeah of course and my lenses. Why?"

Harlow grins. "If I hire you, will you do the photography for the website? I need pictures of all the guys for the brackets this year."

"Sure I can do that. I think I have a my backdrop stuff still as well."

"You'll probably get to photograph Shawn too." Jodi pipes up from where she's typing away at the laptop. "You could take a few just for yourself."

"Jodi!"

"What?"

Harlow groans and shoves her wife's shoulder. "I'm hiring her for a professional shoot, quit teasing her."

"Yeah yeah."

"What time do you want me to stop by? I'm free this weekend and next Thursday all day. Otherwise I work after six."

"Stop by whenever you want. I'm sure it'll take a few days to get all the fighters done and we have a few weeks before fights start. We'll start with Connor when you do get set up. He's my headliner. I'm banking on him hard so I want his photos to be really good."

"Yes ma'am."

_____________________

"So you're doing photos for Harlow?"

You look over at Shawn from the passenger side of his truck. He'd picked you up at a little after six and still wouldn't tell you where you're going. He did make you change into an old pair of jeans instead of the black skinnies you had on and promised you wouldn't regret it. You're almost convinced he's taking you mudding outside of town because you've been driving for twenty minutes and you're still not sure where the hell you are.

"Yeah, I'm doing photos for her? Why?"

"No reason, I was curious."

"You want me to take pictures of you too?"

"I'm not a fighter in the circuit."

"So?"

Shawn looks over and raises his eyebrows. "So why would you take pictures of me?"

"Because you're gorgeous." You look out the window away from him, heart racing at your admission. "I'd die to photograph you in action. You're a rarity, perfect from every angle. It'd be a treat."

"I had no idea you were so into photography. That's awesome." He bumps your leg and you look over. "I'd love to see what kind of photos you take at matches."

"I've taken some good ones. But like I said, I really want to photograph you."

He chuckles. "Sorry sweetheart. I'm retired." He turns the truck down a dirt road toward a big sign that says Pierce Ranch.

"You have a farm?"

"No, my uncle does."

"Why are we going to your uncle's farm?"

"Because I'm taking you horseback riding."

"What? You're serious?"

Shawn turns the truck into a long driveway in front of a big sprawling house. "Dead serious. My uncle is out of town for a few days and he said we could come out and spend some time out here."

You sit stunned in silence. Horseback riding as a first date. Who thought of that? It's so off the wall and incredibly romantic.

"Should we go back?"

You snap out of your thoughts and look over at Shawn as he kills the engine in front of a set of garages. He looks worried. "No, why?"

"You're really quiet. If you don't want to do this we can just go to dinner or something. I know it's kind of different and-"

"I want to go horseback riding."

"Oh." He smiles big and you can see the relief on his face. "Okay good. I'm really looking forward to having you meet my favorite horse."

You put your hand on the door to get out. "I can't wait."

An hour later and you're set up on a horse named Butters, his favorite, and you're strolling along side Shawn on a well worn path around some trees behind the barns. You were nervous at first, needing Shawn's help to stay on the horse but eventually you got the hang of it.

"So, you must really like horses then?" You giggle, looking over at Shawn during a lull in conversation.

"Yeah. I used to spend every summer here with my Uncle Carlos. I still come out here pretty often when I need to relax and get away from it all."

"Ahh, I can see why. It's nice." You bite your lip and glance over. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes?" He chuckles. "Usually that's how dates go."

"Why don't you fight anymore?"

Shawn is quiet. You know it's a sore subject, seeing as no one really wanted to get too in depth when they talked about Shawn's past. You're curious though. A man like him with his skills and experience could still be in the ring.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"No, I-I knew you'd ask eventually." He sighs and guides the horses to a clearing in the trees. He slides off and hitches his horse and then yours to a tree before helping you down.

"Seriously, you seem uncomfortable to talk about it. We don't have to."

Shawn stuffs his hands into his pockets as the two of you head for a bunch of rocks. There's a stream nearby and you can hear the water trickling along the rocks you're walking toward. This place is incredibly serene and you feel bad for bringing up such a tense subject when the date has been going so well.

"So, three years ago I won my second championship." Shawn drops down onto a large flat boulder. "But, the fight was so intense I almost killed my opponent. Now I know, fights get rough and tension runs high in the ring when there's a lot of money and a title at stake. It wasn't about that though. I kicked my opponent so hard he dropped, he just went down, lights out. It wasn't until after everything was said and done I found out he had serious brain trauma from the fight, particularly from my kick."

You sit down next to Shawn and grab his hand. He rubs his thumbs over your fingers gently before continuing.

"I found out he had a newborn baby. I accidentally almost killed this man and took him away from his child because of a sport. I had to stop after that. I couldn't do it anymore."

"Oh Shawn." You squeeze his hand and he looks at you. "You didn't kill him though. He's fine, he's alive and with his child. It is part of the risks you take as fighters."

"I know. I just couldn't deal with that sort of thing happening again. I've made my peace with it and with fighting."

"I understand." You scoot a little closer and he runs his free hand over his hair. "You're a great trainer. Maybe being a fighter isn't for you anymore, but your skills aren't wasted this way. Do you want to fight?"

"To be completely honest, yes. I want to fight every single day, I itch to compete and I think that's why I push Connor so hard. I'm living vicariously."

"Maybe you could do some small time stuff? Not such high stakes?"

"I can't." He shakes his head. "When I'm in the ring I don't stop, I fight hard until I'm out or I win. It's all or nothing."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But anyways, I'm happy training." He smiles, soft and small but genuine nonetheless. "I'm proud to be training a fighter like Connor."

"Good. That's what matters." You bite your lip and giggle to yourself. "I much rather see you like this then all beat up anyway."

"Oh yeah? Not into the black eye and busted lip look?"

"Not on you." You reach out and tenderly turn his face to you. "You're too gorgeous to see damaged."

"I'm gorgeous?" Shawn smirks and runs his hand over your hair. "I think you're mistaken. You're the gorgeous one here." He cradles your face in his hand and just stares at you lovingly.

"No, definitely not." There's a moment where you're both staring at each other's lips and you both know that you want to make a move but it's too soon. Or is it?

Shawn's hand slides away from your face and he stands, offering to help you up. "Let's go back. I've got stuff to make dinner."

"You're making me dinner?"

He hauls you up against him. "Mmhmm. You can help if you'd like." He holds you steady by your hips. "How does spaghetti and meatballs sound?"

"Really good."

"Good." He puts his arm around your shoulders and starts walking back to the horses. "Because when we both have garlic breath the rest of the night won't matter."

You laugh and he just beams at you. "You're something else." You run your hand over his back and he leans his head on yours. "I like it, I like you."

"I like you too."

_____________________

Wednesday night comes around again quicker than ever and Dixie's is crawling with people. All the fighters from Harlow's have showed up to celebrate the announcement of the western circuit championship bracket. Shawn shows up a little after nine and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. He smiles back and makes your heart beat faster. Things have been going incredibly well with him since the date at the ranch. You're falling hard and fast and you don't really want to stop.

"Hey darling," Shawn says over the loudness as he leans against an empty spot at the bar. "How's it going?"

"Packed! Harlow brought all the guys and their friends and families in! It's crazy."

"Good for business though."

"Very. Carrie is moving faster than I've ever seen her go. We've had to pull Dave from the kitchen twice to help me catch up with drinks. We're gonna need to restock." You laugh and point back at the bar. "My tips are racking up fast too."

Shawn looks you over in your required black tee and apron. It's nothing special, but you know it looks good on you and so does he. "You deserve every dollar you get tonight. You're working hard."

"I am. Can I get you something?"

"Just a diet coke is fine. I'm taking it easy in case anyone needs a ride home tonight."

You turn around and fill a glass from the soda guns attached to the counter. "Enjoy yourself, you got most of these guys to this competition after all."

Shawn raises his drink to that and smiles. "I'm going to go hang out with Connor and Jack. I'll check in later?"

"I'll be here."

Two hours later and you are pushing through the kitchen doors to find Carrie. There's a guy who's harassing you and he's way more wasted then he should be, you've only served him three drinks and they weren't that strong. You suspect he may be taking something along with his drinks and Carrie won't have that sort of activity in her establishment.

"We've got a problem." You state angrily, gripping the doorway to the walk in cooler. "It's that asshole who's been trying to get my number since he sat down."

"Yeah?" Carrie turns to look at you as she hauls out a box of burger patties for the cooks. "Is he tweaked out?"

"I think so. He just grabbed my chest when I leaned over to hand some drinks to a guy beside him."

Carrie is livid, her eyes look like she could kill a man with her bare hands and possible has before. "Oh he's gone, I'm gonna-"

A loud crash from beyond the kitchen stuns you both and not a second later Dave, the line prep cook, throws open the door to the backroom and says there's a fight in the front area. Carrie drops the box of burgers in the cooler and closes the door as she hightails it to the front with you on her heels.

The scene before you is not pretty and immediately you think that it's one of the fighters involved. You're right. It's a fighter. But not a current one. It's Shawn and he is standing in front of the bar squared up with the drunk grabby handed guy. There is an overturned table and chairs and you think Shawn's already knocked the asshole down once, or he stumbled into the table and fell.

"Shawn!" You try to yell over the crowd but it's way too loud.

Carrie pushes past you and shoves her tiny frame through the crowd. You decide to go around to get behind the bar and as soon as you do you see a mess of shattered glass and ice on the floor.

"Shawn!" You shout, hands cupped around your mouth. "Shawn stop!"

He isn't listening or he can't hear you. Either way he's swinging at the drunk guy again in defense and before anything can get worse, the cops show up. You watch as the crowd separates and drunk grabby hands gets cuffed while Shawn tries to talk to the cops. It's no use and you watch them walk Shawn out of the bar as well.

You lean on the counter with your back to the door as the two guys get escorted out. Great. You can't help but feel like this is your fault. Shawn must have seen the move grabby hands pulled and approached him. You run your hand over your hair and look to Carrie as she steps behind the bar.

"God damn fighters. This is such a mess!"

"Yeah it is." You chuckle dryly to yourself. "It sure is."

______________________

You didn't think you'd ever be waiting in the lobby of a police station at three in the morning but here you are. Harlow was going to come with, in fact she was going to go alone and bail Shawn out but Jodi was absolutely trashed and you know she needed to take care of her over Shawn, so you said you would go. Besides, you wanted to talk with him one on one about the fight and why it happened.

You hear Shawn before you see him. He's coming down the hall behind the check in desk. "What do you mean my girlfriend came and-"

"Hey," you wave and he walks over to you quickly and hugs you tight.

"Thank God you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay. What would have happened to me?"

Shawn pulls you back and holds your face. "I couldn't find you after that guy put his hands on you. I was worried you left Dixie's or he did something."

"Shawn, he was wasted. What was he going to do to me? He could hardly stand."

"I don't know. I approached him after I saw what happened and he was talking all this shit like what he wanted to do to you. God it was disgusting, and then I didn't see you around and I panicked."

You cup his face and he has a bruise blossoming on his left jaw. "So your instinct was to fight him?"

"He came at me. I was just going to get some of the guys to help me escort him out but he started swinging as soon as I said he needed to go."

"Well it's done and over with now." You turn and head for the doors. "I'll take you to get your truck at the bar."

The ride to Dixie's is quiet. The dark streets are empty, illuminated only by the soft yellow street lights that have been there for far longer than they should be. Seriously the light is so dim it hardly lights up the road. You turn down the street you live on to take a shortcut to Dixie's and as you pass your house you glance at it instinctively.

You slam on the breaks just past your driveway. "What the fuck?" You put the car in park and squint at your darkened front door, or lack thereof. The door is open, gone by the looks of it.

"Don't get out of the car." Shawn warns, flipping the lock button. "Someone could still be in there. Call the cops and back up out of sight."

You fumble with your phone and put it up to your ear. You report the break in and your street name. As soon as you're done you reverse down the street until you're a few houses away.

Shawn reaches over and lays his hand on your shoulder. "Do you know anyone who might have done this?"

"No. I have no idea. I don't even have anything worth stealing!" You lean your head on the steering wheel. "I don't understand. Could this night get any worse?"

"Don't say that." Shawn rubs up and down your back. "It's not the end of the world. We'll find out what's going on."

"What if I had gone home from Dixie's? What if I didn't come pick you up?" You look at the darkened house. "What if I was there?"

"You weren't. That's what matters. Look," he points to a police car coming down the street. "Here comes the cops."

"Will you go in with me?"

"Of course. You think I'm gonna just stay in the car?" Shawn grabs your hand and kisses it gently. "Come on, let's go talk to the cops."

An hour later and you've filed a full report with Officer Jones. There was nothing stolen as far as you can see. The house is fine, completely in order except for your room. Your dresser had been torn through and your closet emptied out, bed sheets and blankets torn apart too. You have absolutely no idea what someone was looking for and Officer Jones kept asking if you were completely sure you didn't know who could have done this.

It's nearly five in the morning and you are exhausted. The sun is coming up and the sky outside is getting brighter by the minute. You need to sleep and you don't feel safe in your house with the door broken and your bedroom torn apart.

"Grab some clothes, I'm gonna take you to my place." Shawn says, walking around your mess of a bedroom. "We'll take care of the broken door frame and stuff later."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. Come on. I know we're both exhausted so I'll drive and we'll pick up my truck tomorrow. We need to rest, it's been a long night."

You grab a tote bag from your closet and throw a few shirts and jeans in it with some underwear. "I could stay with Jodi."

"I really would feel better if you stayed with me." Shawn takes the bag from you as you grab a pair of shoes and socks by the dresser. "Are you okay with it?"

"Of course Shawn." You join him by the door and lay your hand on his shoulder. "I trust you. We'll go to your place. If you want to take that stuff to the car I'm going to grab my camera gear. I told Harlow I'd start doing photos tomo- today." You sigh. "Well, I'll try and get everything set up after we get a few hours of sleep."

"I'm sure she'll understand." He rubs your back and you lean your head on his shoulder. You're absolutely at your limit, body ready to collapse on the next available soft surface. "I'll be in the car. Don't take too long."

"I won't."

_____________________

When you wake up you have no idea what time it is. Shawn's room is bright and you look around for some hint that he is there. He had insisted you take his bed and he'd sleep on the couch. His bed smells so good, like fresh laundry and his cologne. Warm and spicy, it is absolutely perfect. You reach for your phone on the nightstand and see it's just after noon. There are three missed texts.

Harlow: are you coming by to do the shoot today?

Shawn: I'll be at the gym, take it easy and help yourself to the fridge.

Harlow: nvm please rest I talked to Shawn

You close your eyes and flop back onto the pillows. You promised Harlow you'd be by to take some photos, at least some of the ones for the gym website. You turn over and curl up with Shawn's spare pillow, pressing your face into while opening Shawn's text to reply.

You: is Harlow mad I didn't make it?

Shawn: no. I explained the situation and she's more worried about you than anything

You: tell her I can still make it in to set up at least

Shawn: okay. If u are coming by bring me an extra shirt? I forgot to bring one for post workout.

You: okay no prob.

You glance over at his dresser and then back to the window opposite you that over looks the tree line behind his house. It looks like a nice day, it'd be a shame to waste it but you aren't feeling like going out. You just want to stay curled up in his bed forever. Yesterday was so draining with everything that happened and you don't know how much you can handle without snapping at someone. Rest had definitely helped but you still feel uneasy about the break in. It just seemed so targeted like Officer Jones said, but you can't imagine what someone would want from you.

Eventually you get up and make your way down stairs to the kitchen. Shawn's place is beautiful, it truly is. It's very much like a modern cabin and you're not surprised since it's just outside of town in the woods. He's got a few neighbors but it's not like a usual neighborhood setting.

You grab a protein bar from what you assume was once a fruit basket. It looks good enough and you grab your purse from the living room, stuffing one of Shawn's tees into it before you head out. You pause, looking down at the white shirt hanging out of your purse. You go back into the bedroom and take a blue shirt from Shawn's dresser before stripping off your top and pulling the white tee on over your head. It's a little big but it fits well enough and you smile to yourself in his mirror. You grab your purse and head for the front door.

The drive into town is quiet, a little long, but it's nice. It's one long road that winds around the woods in a circle and then turns out on to Main St that you take all the way into town. It's basically a cul-de-sac but in the woods. The whole time you wonder if you should stop by the house and check on it, or if you should call Officer Jones and see if they have anything to go off of. You're really banking on one of your neighbor's having a security camera or something that spotted the intruder. Though your street is so dark at night it's hard to see anything anywhere.

You turn into the lot behind Harlow's and park beside Jodi's Jeep. You unload your backdrops and stands, carrying everything in the back door. You're met with Connor whos grabbing some tape for a mat from the storage room and he offers to help.

"Look who I found," Connor announces as you walk out onto the gym floor with all your stuff in hand.

Shawn walks over from boxing with a stand up bag. "Hey darling," he takes your camera bag and stand case. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yes." You smile softly. "Your bed is very comfortable."

"I'm glad." He rests his hand on your lower back. "Is this my shirt?"

"Maybe."

He grins and kisses your cheek. "It's all yours now. Looks good on you anyway. Any word from Officer Jones?"

"Not yet. I'm sure he'll call tonight or tomorrow."

"You can stay at my place as long as you need to."

You stand up on your toes a bit and kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"Alright love birds break it up." Jodi says loudly, clapping at the two of you. "Before you start getting set up I wanna talk to you about what happened, I need to know who I'm going to skin alive."

"We don't know anything yet Jodi." Shawn says with an eye roll. "I told you that."

Jodi snorts. "I'm still going to kick someone's ass."

"I promise I'll let you know who to hunt when we hear back from the police." You say softly and Shawn gives you another kiss on the head before heading back over to the cage with Connor. Jodi puts her arm around you and the two of you head to the backroom that isn't full of old equipment to set up your camera.

_____________________

Photos go well, you manage to get all the guys done in a few hours. You'll go home later and look them over to decide if you need to reshoot anything. But for now you are finished and starting to pack up.

"Hey, you forgot one."

You turn and look at Shawn standing in the doorway to the backroom where you're set up. "I did?"  

"Yeah. Me." He grins and steps in, closing the door behind him. "I thought you couldn't wait to get photos of me."

"Well, I figured I could get them any time."

"Oh? You think I'll pose for you whenever you like?"

You smirk. "You might, but I want to take candids of you."

Shawn wraps his arms around you and you lean back into his chest. "Candids huh?" He noses against your ear, hand going over your stomach. "Like private candids of me in my bed, laid out on the sheets holding my-"

"Shawn!"

He chuckles deeply and you can feel your body get warm, heat pooling between your legs. "Is that not what you want?"

You turn around in his hold and run a hand over his hair. "I want so much more from you then a couple of photos."

"Yeah? Tell me what you want."

"Oh you know...all the good stuff."

"The good stuff?" He walks you back against the backdrop and you bring his head down, foreheads rolling together. "This kind of good stuff?" He asks lowly before he kisses you softly.

"I know why you came in here." You whisper between kisses, hands going up and down his back. "You're jealous."

He lets out a growl as he kisses along your jaw. "You think I'm jealous of my fighters?"

"Your fighters hmm?"

"Mmm. I'm partnered with Harlow." He pulls back to look down at you. "I own the gym with her. I thought you knew?"

"No, I had no idea. She seems so bossy and it's called Harlow's so..."

Shawn plays with the ends of your hair, twisting his finger around bits of it. "She already had the place, I just bought in with championship winnings to keep it open. She runs the business side with Jodi and I run the gym floor as you can tell."

"Wow. So Connor and the other guys in the circuit this season is a huge deal for you."

"Yeah. A win from one of them could mean we expand Harlow's, new equipment, more fighters. With four guys going this year we have a good chance, and with Connor, we have the odds in our favor, I think."

You grin and shake your head. "Our first kiss and here we are talking business. Y'know if you were anyone else I'd have left by now."

"But I'm not anyone else." He leans in and bumps his nose to yours. "I'm special huh?"

"Oh you're special alright."

Shawn gives you one more kiss before he laughs and pulls back. "Let me make it up to you. I told Connor I'd go to dinner with him at Dixie's to talk about his first fight and what to expect. We can go a little early and have some time to ourselves first. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like a date."

"Oh it's not necessarily a date, but it could be."

You smile and he just holds your hips looking down at you. "Come on, enough staring like weirdos. I'm hungry."

____________________

Dixie's is packed when you arrive but you manage to get a table near the bar that's a small two seater. You see Carrie running around like a mad woman and two of the day time waitresses are running around behind her. The place is popular this time of year with fighters and their crews moving into town and nearby during the first part of the western circuit. That's what Carrie told you anyway during her briefing on what to expect and how she deals with the increased number of fights during this time of year.  

"Is that Connor?" Shawn asks, pointing to a table behind you. "What's he doing here so- oh I see."

You turn and look over at where Shawn is pointing to a corner table where Connor is and leaning on the table in her work clothes is Sammy. You smirk, it's about time they talked. Sammy has been eyeing Connor for weeks but she's hesitant because he's a fighter and she knows what the lifestyle entails.

“They’re kids, leave 'em be.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sammy is a good girl. I’m not worried about it.”

“She is. She also knows what it’s like to live with fighters. She told me her brother was a fighter.” You shake your head. “I think she said he went north to try for the canadian championship but he didn't win and ended up settling down up there”

“I knew her brother Devin, we fought a few times.” Shawn smiles over his drink. “The guy was really good, he gave me a run for my money.”

“Oh yeah? Did he train at Harlow’s?”

“No, no it was way before then. When I was nineteen he was twenty one, we went a few rounds in my first championship entry. I didn’t win that year, I got too cocky and big headed. He was a tough dude though, if Sammy is anything like him she’ll keep Connor in his place.”

You chuckle. “Sammy is very shy, I’m not sure she’s like her brother at all.”

“The shy ones are the ones you gotta watch out for.” Shawn smirks and you roll your eyes.

"Anyways, you said I could stay at your place again?"

"Mmhmm." Shawn smiles and chews on his straw. "I definitely don't mind."

"Good. I'm nervous about going home until we find out more from the police. It's feels like such a personal attack since they went through just my bedroom and didn't even take anything." You shake your head and lean you chin on your hand on the table. "They didn't even take jewelry. Someone wanted something from me."

"Maybe they thought it was someone else who lived there?"

"I don't know. I hope there is video footage from one of the neighbors that shows us something."

"They're gonna check with the neighbors for you?"

"Yeah, Officer Jones called while I was photographing Gauge. He said they're gonna canvas the area, ask for surveillance from anyone nearby and see if they can't get a suspect or even a car or something."

Shawn leans back and crosses his arms. "Y'know I was actually thinking, do you think it could be Tate? I didn't want to say something about him to the cops but is there something you have of his?"

You raise your eyebrows. You hadn't thought of Tate being a suspect. Hell, you were two states away from him now and it's been months since the break up. "I don't think I have anything. I gave him everything back, all his clothes and anything he ever bought me. I left it all in a box in our apartment."

"It was just a thought."

"No, it's a good one. He is crazy enough to do something like that." You roll your eyes and flag down Carrie to pay for your drinks. "Maybe I can call him, or I could try his sister Maggie."

"I'd try Maggie if you have a good relationship with her. If it was him he probably won't want to talk to you."

Carrie stops by the table and hands you your bill. "Have you seen Sammy?"

"She's over there with..." You look around for her and Connor but neither are at the table in the corner anymore. "Well she was here. Is she working tonight?"

"Yeah. Her shift starts in five minutes." Carrie takes your cash and you wave her off for change. "You say you seen her?"

Shawn chuckles. "She was with Connor."

"The fighter?"

"Yeah, my champ." Shawn stands and gives you a look and you nod, letting him know you don't mind if he goes looking for the two of them. "I think I know where they are."

Carrie raises her eyebrows. "Well if you find her, tell her to get her ass to work."

"Yes ma'am." Shawn smiles. "See you at the house." He squeezes your shoulder and heads for the front door.

A minute later Sammy comes walking in very flushed and you can't help but smile to yourself. She's got a flower tucked into her hair and you think her and Connor must have been sitting out on the patio since the flower is definitely from the pots out there.  

____________________

You get to Shawn's place a little after eight. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's there. The sun is starting to go down and you are tired from working on photos and stress from the break in. Your brain is absolutely taxed. All you want is some dinner and a soft bed. You turn the handle to the door and walk into music blasting from the kitchen. It's some eighties hair band and you chuckle to yourself as you walk across the living room to find Shawn around the corner shadow boxing at the stove shirtless.

"What's for dinner?" You laughs and he looks back around with a grin. "Smells good!"

Shawn turns and shuts off the music on his phone. "It's chili. I figured it's pretty easy to throw together since I got home just a few minutes ago."

"Why not order something?"

"Eh, I like homemade." He stirs the pot around. "I haven't had it in a while, I thought it'd be nice."

You walk around the island and take a look into the pot. It's not chili. Well, it is, but it's not what you were expecting. "What kind of chili is this?"

"Chili Verde. My dad's recipe. Wanna taste?" He spoons some out to cool in a little bowl on the counter.  "I promise it's good."

You smile. "I'm sure it's very good. What's in it?"

"Pork, onions, green chilies. I cheated and used a bottle of premade chili verde salsa for a starter since I don't have time to stew tomatillos and green chilies for hours." He spoons some up for you and you take a bite. "Good yeah?"

"Hot." You cover your mouth. "It's kinda spicy but I like it. It's good."

Shawn beams and scoops out two bowls to cool. "I'll finish getting dinner ready, go change and relax."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for making me dinner."

"Of course." He kisses your nose and your heart skips. "Go on."

Post dinner you're sitting on the couch with Shawn watching some ghost hunter show. He's got his arm around your shoulders and you're tucked into his side snugly. It's comfortable, being with Shawn feels incredibly natural. He's warm and safe.

"What're you doing next Sunday?" Shawn asks as he tucks his feet against yours where your legs are outstretched on the ottoman. "I was thinking if you're available we could go out."

"I work the late shift but I can see if one of the guys can cover for me."

"I don't want you to miss work. We can go another day."

"No, I want to go. It'll be a nice escape from the stress around here." You run your hand down his forearm and slide your hand into his. "Are we going to go horseback riding again?"

Shawn squeezes your hand. "Nope. I have another idea."

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling." He grins at you and you narrow your eyes at him. "I can surprise you again can't I? It's more fun that way."

"I'd like to see what tops horseback riding."

"I have a few ideas. Don't worry." He glances at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. "I should go to bed, I have a seven o'clock session with Jack tomorrow." He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. "Do you mind if I take the bed?"

"Nope. I don't mind sharing."

"Sharing? You're ready for that?"

You push off of him and stand up, putting your hand out to him. "I'm ready for anything with you."

He takes your hand and stands, pulling you against him. "Anything huh?" He runs a hand over your hair. "Falling a little fast aren't we?"

"I don't mind." You wrap your arms around his middle. "We work well together. I've never felt this comfortable and free around someone before."

He hums. "It feels natural. I completely understand."

You scratch at his back gently and he smiles down at you. "Let's go to bed. You need to be up early."

"Mmm I could always reschedule if we wanted to stay up late." He runs his hand down your back and over your butt. "I'm sure Jack won't mind."

You shake your head and laugh. "No, you're not cancelling work because of me. We can sleep together any time."

"Well don't make it sound like we're an old married couple, jeez."

You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly. "Maybe it's good practice for the future."

"Wh- oh." He grins. "First kiss and you're planning our future all in one day? Damn."

"Oh shut up." You pull away and head to his bedroom. "Come on, chop chop. The bed awaits."

_____________________

You wake up in the middle of the night and you're freezing. It doesn't even feel like there is a heater on in the house. You roll towards Shawn and slide your arm around his middle, spooning him from behind. He shifts. A soft grunt followed by a mumble of incoherent sleep laden words. He's like a furnace, body radiating into yours.

"You okay?"

"Mmhmm." You press a kiss to his hair. "All good now."

"I missed this." He places his hand over yours on his chest. His heart beats in time with yours, a cadence of comfort in the night. "I missed being held."

"It's been a while?" 

"A long while. I didn't like to date when I fought. I only wanted to focus on my work." He chuffs. "I'd deprive myself to be the best. Stupid huh?" 

"No. You thought it'd help. It must have, you did win." You flex your fingers against his skin, blunt nails scratching him lightly. "Do you like being the little spoon?" 

"Love it. There's something about having someone smaller than you curled up and wrapped around you that I just love. I do like being the big spoon too, but I really enjoy being held sometimes." 

"I'll hold you any time." You give him a squeeze and he tangles his legs with yours. "You're like a big teddy bear."

He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep to the sound of his soft breathing and the beating of his heart under your fingertips. 

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

End Part 1

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

Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be out sometime in the future as I have to write the ending still, but it’ll be another 13k at least. Thank you all again.  - A

[goldenlaquer]

Hey, can I ask for headcanons for Gin, Hijikata, Sougo and Kamui about them catching feelings for their friend with benefits?

Hi, yes you can ask for them... and I can (hopefully) deliver! 

Gintama NSFW Headcanons: 

Hijikata Toushirou: 

Maybe when first going into the relationship, Hijikata’s rational side had thought that this is a bad idea or this isn’t going to end well, but he went into it anyway because A) he was a man with needs and B) he wasn’t looking for an actual relationship and C) ...well, you’re attractive and his dick likes what he sees and his mind has suddenly become this undisciplined asshole that wants to follow his dick. 

A man’s entire code of conduct rewritten in pursuit of some pussy. Who hasn’t heard that story before?

And in the first place, he was the one who firmly laid down the groundwork: just sex, nothing else. A wham, bam, thank you ma’am- type situation.

So how the fuck did it turn out like this?  

Maybe all those years of Sougo calling him “Hijibaka” has some truth to it, because when he’s staring down at the languid bend of your spine as you work yourself on his stiff length, his thoughts encroach on some dangerous territory that is decidedly not somewhere he wants to be in. Because, when he hears the sound of your voice calling in his name in the heat of the moment, another kind of heat tingles up the back of his neck, something that is entirely different than what the two of you had agreed on. Because, when he collapses next to you on the bed and looks at you wheezing while coming down from the high, his post nut clarity says Jesus H. Christ, I want something more out of this woman. 

And that thought is what propels him out of bed, but it’s the thought of you, just you, that brings him back every time, because he is Hijibaka and you are you and he is fucked. Fuck. 

He won’t say it first. He won’t. And if you want to break it off, he will leave without protest, without looking back. But until then.

Kamui:

It isn’t hard to see how it had evolved. Actually, it was probably there all along. 

“Friends with benefits,” you had enunciated and repeated, voice layered with a warning, and Kamui had smiled and said, “Ok, if that’s what you want to call it.” 

You can call the arrangement however you see fit, but these truths are undeniable: Kamui sees, Kamui wants, Kamui takes. 

He wants you. Simple and clean as that. Wants your tight heat wrapped around his cock, warming away the cold night. Wants to bite the back of your neck, leaving deep marks that will hold until his next visit to Earth. Wants the scent of you lingering in his hair before he goes out to space. If you want to moniker it “friends with benefits”, you can, but Kamui knows he wants so it doesn’t matter if you call it “this” or “that” (Earthlings are strange like that, with all their semantics).   

But what he doesn’t get is that, while the arrangement is a mutual exchange of your body for his and there is exclusivity, there is only a kind of exclusivity, which means he has you but he doesn’t have you. Not everything. (Again, earthlings with all their semantics.) 

And the cold truth of it became all the more apparent when he was wandering the Edo pathways that led to your house one day, where he encountered you along the way, but you weren’t alone. No, you were with another male, laughing and smiling, and Kamui didn’t like the look. He didn’t like it at all. 

But when he interrupted, you had strangely turned on him, furiously saying stuff like ‘we don’t have that kind of relationship!’, and it had  dawned on him then, about what exactly the meaning of “friends with benefits” was.

Kamui isn’t very concerned about the news (he’ll have you, all of you, in the end, he knows). After all, as a baldie had once said: love starts in bed. 

Okita Sougo: 

He prides in it, you know, gaining an upper hand against everyone else, an edge that sets him above the rest. Very arrogant, don’t you think? Very befitting of a sadist. 

So when did he suddenly find himself like this, like, like 

a masochist. 

It’s not his first rodeo, having a fuck buddy, but he’s acting like a fumbling amateur, because this is the longest he’s ever been with anybody before. It’s not like him to stay this long. It’s an unspoken rule of his that he leaves, gone before anything can turn to unnecessary attachment, unnecessary feelings. Okita doesn’t need the unnecessary. It’s distracting. It’s weak. 

And another trait he prides in is being unpredictable. Unpredictable bazooka attacks on Hijikata. Unpredictable smacks to your ass. Being able to read everyone, but being unable to be read. And now that’s gone too, because recently, you had mentioned right after sex that you felt like, he’s changing. 

He’s changing. 

Of course, Okita scoffed and pinched your nose shut in punishment. “Idiot,” he had said to you, but it was more directed towards himself, his heart thumping fast in a way that was similar to a kid’s who had been caught with his hand in a cookie jar. 

Shit. 

And with every session from there on, the weakness grows. It’s a pimple, growing until it bursts and festers and shit, he’s really done it now, because he should distance himself, but he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop, and he’s acting like a goddamn masochist and his role is sadist for crying out loud, so why is he torturing himself like this--

Okita has another trait: lying. He’ll lie to you, to every person who thinks that they see what isn’t there, and to himself. It’s not there. It’s most definitely not there. Manifestation. 

If Hijibaka is Hijibaka, then Okita is the world’s biggest idiot. 

Sakata Gintoki: 

“Let’s stop.”

Dead-eyed. Blanked face. Hair permed. Finger flicking away snot. The other hand leisurely tucked into his kimono. He looks the same. Like normal.

Why?

Gintoki turns to walk away, face hidden as he shrugs and says, “Got boring. See ya.” 

The arrangement started suddenly. He was bored. You were bored. You were hot. You tolerated him enough to stick your hands down his pants. Wanna fuck? Sure. Let’s do it. 

It was casual and nothing was expected of him, other than his awesome, stellar dicking skills. Just the way he liked it. 

Until things got a little more serious, out of his range of comfort. Sex was great, and you were the same, still moaning and doing those nice clenching things with your gorilla-grip pussy. But things just felt off. Different. Was it you? Was it him? Doesn’t matter. He hates introspection, digging deep into the dark of himself; he doesn’t care to find out about the clusterfuck he unearths. 

So Gintoki skedaddled. 

He wasn’t prepared for it to hurt like a bitch though, like plastering duct tape on an open wound and yanking it off a split-second later. 

Aa. So that’s what it was. And like usual, Gintoki goes on living, like nothing happened. 

Coward. Yeah, so what? It’s not like you feel the same, and even if you did, what does it matter? He’s got two kids and a dog to feed and plenty of other problems, like getting the new Shonen Jump release before it’s sold out or achieving his goal of eating fifty chocolate parfaits in one sitting. 

(It all makes sense when you realize that Gintoki has commitment issues.)

Behold, everyone is an A+ stupido. 

Jan 8th. I’m anticipating and dreading at the same time. 

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 8- Shape of My Heart

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Falling in love with someone you can never have is the worst feeling in the world...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie​​​​​ @drewswannabegirl​​​​​ @sexualparkour​​​​ @teamnick​​​​​ @jiaraendgame​​​​​ @agirlwholovescoffee​​​​​ @outerbongs​​​​​ @jaxxandcomet​​​​​ @velyssaraptor​​​​​ @baby-pogue​​​​​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​​​​​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​​​​​ @kaitieskidmore1​​​​​ @ma10427​​​​​ @ifilwtmfc​​​​​ @lasnaro​​​​​ @justcallmesams​​​​​ @judayyyw​​​​​ @lonely-kermit​​​​​ @gviosca​​​​​ @iamaunicorn4704​​​​​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​​​​​ @fernweh-fangirl​​​​​ @runway-to-my-aid​​​​​ @eb15​​​​​ @hurricane-abigail​​​​​ @tangledinsparkles​​​​​ @fandom-phaser​​​​​ @sunwardsss​​​​​ @http-cherries​​​​​ @bibliophilewednesday​​​​​ @evaporatedrosepetals​​​​​ @thetomatosaucee​​​​​ @tomatosauceagent​​​​​ @redosmo​​​​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​​​​ @obx-direction-sos​​​​ @mxltifandoms06​​​​

Part 7 Part 9

Note: We hit 450 basically overnight I’m so so grateful for each and every one of you! I can’t wait to put out more content for you all! I’m thinking of starting a series based on the Draco blurb I did last night but I’m also thinking of starting something with my boy Steve Rogers...thoughts?

Again the name for Y/N is what’s in Rudy’s phone💞

=======================

The group chat I shared with the cast was popping off the next day...

Mads💕(MC):  Hope everyone has a marvelous day bc Y/n and Rudy made out on our front lawn☺️

Jombie🏄‍♂️(Chase): It was cute and gross all at the same time🤢

My Other Mads💗(MB): FINALLY

Starboy🌟(Drew): Wait I thought you guys were dating this whole time?

JD🤓: Why are you so slow Drewboy?

Austin💩: I side with Drew on this as I also thought they were together😅

Cutie Pie😍💕(Rudy): Let me be in love in peace!

Baby❤️🤤😘🥰😍(Y/n): Excuse me for inconveniencing y’all😂

Mads💕(MC): I’m just glad you guys finally decided to get your heads out of your asses and confess your undying love😒

Baby❤️🤤😘🥰😍(Y/n): You make it sound like we’re in a Shakespeare novel Madelyn🤨

“Our friends are a pain in the ass,” Rudy huffed, throwing his phone back on the towel. 

We were currently out in the pool, Maddie and Chase were running a few errands. I was sitting on the side, my legs dangling in, and Rudy was in the pool with his upper half leaning beside me on the edge. 

“They are concerned for our well being.” I chuckled, raking my hand through my long hair. 

“I’m concerned about how you can sit there and look so hot. Jesus.” he confessed, making a low whistling noise.

“Quit,” I mumbled, blushing as I playfully shoved his shoulder.

Rudy came to stand between my legs, ginning widely. His hands came on either side of me, leaning in close. I looked down, playing with my fingers. I wasn’t used to being complimented, especially by guys. Never has a guy as good looking as Rudy complimented me, it made me a little uneasy. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, wrapping his strong arms around me.

“Nothing I want to bother you with...” I sighed, leaning my head on his.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, I’m here for you. I’ll always listen, no matter what it is.” he murmured, kissing my cheek.

“I’m just not used to getting compliments is all. Honestly, I’m still afraid this is too good to be true. That this is all a dream and I’m going to wake up any minute.” I admitted.

“Baby, why are you so down on yourself? There are some days when I am taken away with your beauty, it makes me wonder how on earth I was graced with such a beautiful creature in my life. I’m real, I’m with you.” he said, his hand coming to brush some hair out of my face.

“It’s a lot to explain,” I said hesitantly, not wanting to seem like I wanted his pity.

“We got time,” he shrugged.

So I told him everything, and he listened. Didn’t interrupt me once, squeezed me when I choked up. 

“I can’t believe that all happened to you...I couldn’t imagine going through that.” he remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Yeah, so now you know why I was so hesitant about us.” I revealed, not able to meet his eyes. 

“Well, I’m glad that I get to be the one to show you what you deserve. You deserve to be treated like the queen you are. Also, if by chance we are in your home state and I see any of these guys...I’m beating someones ass.” he declared, a laugh leaving my lips.

“Usually if I run into any of them I high tail it on out of wherever I am.” I laughed.

“I need to have words with how they treated my woman,” he grumbled, scrunching his brows.

“My knight and shining armor.” I gushed, pinching his cheeks.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he questioned, kissing my lips quickly.

“Tonight?” I inquired.

“Yeah, I know you’re a movie junkie, so I was hoping we could go see the new Jumanji movie.” he offered.

“Sounds fun, I get to stare at The Rock AND Nick Jonas.” I teased, Rudy pouting immediately.

“You’re so mean.” he sniffed.

“Ru, I’m just kidding. You’re number one on my hot guy list.” I smiled.

“There’s a list?” he said, baffled.

“All girls have one.” I shrugged.

“As long as I’m number one I guess that’s all that matters.” he chuckled.

====================================

I ran away from Rudy while he was waiting in line to buy our tickets, beating him to at least pay for the snacks. I felt bad that the two weeks I had been here, Rudy had basically paid for both of us whenever we did anything. A thought had hit me then...

I only had ten more days until I left, how were Rudy and I going to do long distance?

I pushed the thought to the back of my mind, wanting to enjoy my night. I paid for our snacks, waiting by the entrance to get our tickets checked. Rudy pouted as he walked up to me, eyeing the food in my hands. I got on my tip toes to kiss his pouting lips, handing him his drink.

“This is a 50/50 relationship Ru, I’m not letting you pay for everything.” I winked.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” he grumbled.

The movie had already been out for some time, so we were the only ones in the theater. I preferred that so that I could make commentary without having to worry about someone shushing me. Rudy sat down, pulling the middle thing up so that he could cuddle me to him. 

I was feeling spontaneous, and since we were alone it was the perfect opportunity. I don’t know what it was that made me have this feeling, but I began to squirm around in my seat. Rudy had me feeling some type of way, I couldn’t stop glancing at him. I had no sexual experience, but I had read enough books and talked to my girl friends that I had the idea. 

I moved my hand to his inner thigh, rubbing it lightly. A sharp inhale came from Rudy’s lips, a satisfied smirk coming from me. I moved my hand a little higher, biting down on my lip. His hand shot out just before I could get to his manhood, leaning over to whisper in my ear.

“Are you sure about that baby?” he asked.

I turned to kiss his lips hard, my hands coming to either side of his face. I removed one hand to palm his member, feeling it harden under his pants. He moaned in my mouth, his hand moving to grab a handful of my hair. I pulled away, both of us panting. He sat up slightly to undo his pants, sliding them down a little. My eyes widened at how well endowed he was, and I thought it felt big under his pants. 

I leaned down, taking him in my mouth. Rudy gasped, taking a hold of my hair. I held the base of him with one hand, starting to move up and down. I followed my hand with my mouth, meeting them in the middle. It was music to my ears to hear Rudy panting, shaky breaths following. It motivated me to move faster, suck harder. 

“Oh my, baby, I’m gonna cum.” he choked out a moan.

I pushed myself faster, taking him deeper in my mouth. He tightened his hold on my hair, bucking his hips. I choked a little, but still kept up my pace. His breathing picked up, stutters of my name leaving his lips. He cursed loudly when he came, shooting all of it into my mouth. I swallowed what he gave me, sitting back up to wipe the spit from the sides of my face. 

“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he breathed, wiping sweat from his forehead. He fixed himself back in his pants, throwing an arm around me.

“Positive, you took my mouth virginity.” I shrugged, both of us busting out laughing. 

“Thank you for letting me be your first sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing my nose.

[matrixaffiliate]

Awaken

New Story! - FFN and AO3

For the wonderful, darling, amazing @the-words-in-my-head-12 as part of the @harryandginuary Gift Exchange!

It's been ten years since Harry finished Hogwarts, ten years since he and Ginny decided to say goodbye, and ten years since he's seen her. But that all changes when he turns the corner on the pavement in Magical London. This chance encounter might just gain Harry a second chance at the one that got away. Magical AU-No Voldemort.

Awaken

Chapter 1

The busy streets of Magical London in August just before the sun finally starts to sink in the sky give Harry a sense of what a can of sardines must feel like, cramped, slimy, and surrounded by a stench that he doesn't want to name. He has realized over the last ten years of having to come into the city that he hates it, but growing up in Godric's Hollow, out in the sprawling green of Gloucestershire, one can hardly blame him for it. Harry reminds himself for the umpteenth time that he'll be out of it in just an hour or so. He's only here to grab a few things, stopping at those specialty shops that won't survive unless they place themselves in the middle of the largest group of people they can find. It's when he turns the corner towards one such shop, the only place he's ever found that makes broomstick polish that doesn't stain his clothes, that he collides into her.

He doesn't realize it's her at first, gripping the person's shoulders to keep them both from falling, but then she cries out to apologize and he freezes because he knows that voice. He hasn't heard it in ten years, but it's like he's seventeen all over again and Harry looks down and she's staring up at him with her lips parted like she might have continued her apology until she realized exactly who she was looking at.

"Gin."

As if her name is an incantation, the images from his last year at Hogwarts come rushing back to him. Lying out on the grounds with Ginny in his arms. Quidditch practices, after Quidditch practices, her lips on his, searing, frantic. The stress of his NEWT year, being Gryffindor's Quidditch captain, the newness to their relationship wearing off, the fighting, the night they decided it was best to call it off, best to let him go out and start his life, best to let her finish her NEWT year without a long-distance boyfriend, best to bring it all to an end. They were seventeen and sixteen and while letters from home had helped a little in the fights, Harry feels like they were both ill-prepared to try and work through anything without someone coaching them through it. They were so young.

"Harry." She smiles up at him, though he notices her eyes look as far away as he feels.

"Hi," he finally manages to whisper before they're jostled and shoved against the building to his right. Instinctively he pulls her into him to keep her shoulder from also hitting the rough bricks. That action brings more memories, more images, more of Ginny rushing back to his mind as he smells that flowery scent again for the first time in a decade. Merlin, they had been so young.

"Hi," she pulls back, and Harry realizes he's holding her far too close. They aren't seventeen and sixteen anymore and trying to be together. He's twenty-seven and she'll be twenty-six at the end of the week; they're past that part of their lives.

He drops his arms and she pulls away entirely and Harry can't begin to describe the ache in his chest. It's almost like when they called it off at the end of his seventh year, but that had a feeling of relief, knowing she'd be happier mixed in with the hurt and the frustration. This time, all those feelings are replaced with this overwhelming desire to pull her back.

"How, er, how have you been?" It's a silly question, he's still best mates with Ron, he knows roughly, vaguely, how her life has gone - small things like her Quidditch career and how mad she was when Ron and Hermione chose to elope - but it's the only question he can think to ask.

He realizes a second too late his hand is already in his hair. She smiles though and he can't help but smile back.

"I've been good, and you?"

"Good," he nods and then they stand there, staring at each other in silence as London whizzes around them. It only takes London ten seconds to jostle them again though and it seems to bring both of them back to reality.

"Well," she hesitates, looking him in the eye a moment longer before she starts again, "I should probably-"

"Of course, sorry," Harry steps back, "It was good to see you."

"You too," she bites her lip and Harry receives a new rush of emotions as that image comes back to him in so many different situations from their roughly eight months together.

She brushes his arm as she steps past him and Harry unconsciously breathes her in before she disappears around the corner.

Gone.

Again.

He's in an off mood for the rest of the day as he runs his errands, and he blames it on the city. He blames it on one of the stores being out of what he wanted. He blames it on the heat of the day. He blames it on everything other than the glaring fact that he saw Ginny again.

Because she's just an ex-girlfriend. He has a few of those now, it's nothing out of the ordinary, everyone has an ex or a few, so it isn't seeing Ginny that's caused this feeling that everything in his life is wrong.

It's the long week he's having. It's how work has been stressing him out lately. It's the way the big city affected him today.

It has nothing to do with Ginny.

Besides, he reasons, we were so young back then; we've grown apart as we've grown older.

Merlin, they'd been kids! Blowing everything out of proportion, seeing only as far as the end of the next hour, too scared to really be open with each other, too inexperienced to realize they needed to be; he's amazed that they made it the eight months they did because he's rather ashamed of a lot of his behavior from his teens. His family assures him it's how most everyone feels; being a teenager is no one's forte. But Harry knows he hurt people; he hurt Ginny, and that's a sour pill to swallow. But he pushes it away to try and focus on making himself some dinner. It's not like he can go back and fix it.

Harry stops midway from setting the pan on the hot pad as his brain latches on to the flippant thought, racing through ideas from letters of apology to showing up on her front doorstep.

"No." He says it out loud, though it's only him in his little two-bedroom home. He isn't going to go barging back in on her life, for all he knows she has a boyfriend.

To his great surprise, the monster in his chest from when he was a teenager comes roaring back to life as if it hadn't been dead and gone since he and Ginny broke up.

Harry had attributed its absence to him growing up, maturing, becoming better, because it hadn't come back after Ginny. He mutters darkly at the feeling, trying to banish it away. He's not jealous. He's not that type. He's secure. Trusting. An adult more importantly.

Besides, Ginny isn't his!

He groans and sets the pan down to dish himself his dinner. He needs to stop. This train of thought is only going to drive him mad, and probably make him do something stupid; he is James Potter's son, after all, so the odds are high he'll do something that he'll wish he hadn't.

The battle is fought all evening, but it's a lost cause because his mind has decided to be a Pensieve, playing their whole relationship through his head again and again and again. He can't help but realize he's never done this with the other women he's dated. Even on the occasions he's run into them after they've ended things, he's always been able to brush it off within a few hours.

It's guilt, he reasons. He was a self-centered, inconsiderate teenager; he was older than her and should have known better; he knows that he hurt her and he's feeling guilty for that because he never properly apologized to her for it. Even when they broke up, he didn't apologize. Yes, that's what this is, it's guilt; if he can apologize to her, it will go away. And so, he pulls out a paper and pen and sits down to write.

A letter is a pretty regular task, tedious even, but as Harry sits at his little table, it feels more difficult than spell manipulation, something he does on the daily for work. The pen seems heavy in his hand and his mind slows, unable to come up with the words to put on the page.

"Well, write her name," He chides himself, but even that action feels heavy as his pen loops the G and dots the I and adds the comma after the N. He briefly wonders if he should write out Ginny and not Gin, but he never really called her by anything else when they were together. To the point that his whole family only called her Gin as well - something he never thought to ask if she minded. But it was all because 'Ginny' was Ron's baby sister; 'Gin' was his.

Harry pushes his hands into his hair and groans. He's twenty-seven years old! He should be able to write a simple apology!

Again he picks up the pen and this time forces himself to start.

Gin,

Seeing you today, it was it reminded me of a lot of things how I was. Mostly what a prat I was when we were teenagers dating. I wanted to apologize. I should have apologized the moment I saw you today. I should have apologized back then. I know it’s been ten years, that this is very past due, but I am sorry. You didn’t deserve a lot any of the rubbish I dished out, and I know wish this wasn’t such a late apology, but late or not, you deserve to have it. Hope life is well, and happy birthday Sunday.

Harry

He reads it ten times before he forces himself to fold it up and attach it to Hedwig's leg. "If you don't find her just take it to the Burrow. I have no idea where she's living now." Hedwig tilts her head at him like he's stating the obvious, which he realizes he is. Harry sighs and opens the window. "Off you go then."

Hedwig floats out into the night and Harry expects to feel lighter, which he does, but what he doesn't expect is how his mind won't let Gin go. Now though, instead of the feelings of all the things he did wrong, his mind plays all of the good things over and over again.

The laughter - he doesn't think he's laughed as much since then - their private jokes, the way she'd roll her eyes anytime someone said something she found tedious or ridiculous, how quickly she caught onto everything, from course work to their friends' problems she always seemed to get to the heart of things, her smile going soft when he'd whisper in her ear, her small hand in his, her lips pressed against his, her body tucked up against his, her blazing brown eyes staring up at him with fire, the nights where they would talk until four in the morning in the common room while they stole kisses, and it would always end with him finding excuses to have her run her fingers through his hair because it was just the most calming feeling in the world to have her fingernails run along his scalp.

The memories invade his dreams that night, and Harry can't honestly say he minds. Ginny was always fire and blazing, and when things were good between them he basked in the glow of her bright smiles and the warmth of her very presence.

But it's passed now, he reminds himself the next morning, even as his mind tries to replay a particularly happy hour spent down by the lake. She's certainly moved on, it's been ten years after all, and while he might be unattached right now, he has moved on too. He tries to think of the other women, the ones he's been with since Ginny, but the memories have to be dredged out of the archives of his mind, dusted off, held up to the light, and even then they're fuzzy.

It's because I saw her. He tries to reassure himself. If I hadn't seen her it would be just as hard to remember her. But that feels like a lie and he knows it probably is because the truth of the matter is that he's always been able to pull the memories of Gin out at any moment he cares. Thinking it through, as he's getting ready for work, he realizes that he's actually pulled these memories with Gin forward more often than most of his memories.

But it's only because so much reminds him of her.

She plays for the Holyhead Harpies, so Quidditch is always a reminder of Ginny. Red usually reminds him of her hair, comparing if it's brighter or duller or darker or lighter than the bright red that he thinks of as Gin's. Half of Britain has freckles and so he remembers hers just about any moment he's close enough to see someone's freckled face. She always bought Fizzing Whizzbees to eat while she revised and so anytime he sees them he thinks of her while his mouth waters, whether from the candy or the memories of her eating them he isn't sure. The list goes on and on. The girl is simply everywhere.

She isn't a girl anymore, though. His mind pulls back to looking down at the woman she'd become. Yesterday, his hands on her shoulders, when he pulled her into him to shield her from the wall they were pushed into, she didn't feel like the slight teenager she'd been ten years ago. She'd grown into herself, in so many ways, her face was more confident now, it lacked that desperate need to prove herself, and while she was still about the same height, her body had finally caught up with the height, filling in her curves and making it very obvious she wasn't a sixteen-year-old anymore.

In frustration, Harry shoves his hand into his hair and pulls, trying to gain control over his wandering thoughts. That's when Hedwig taps on the window and Harry's heart stops for a full second when he sees that she has a letter attached to her leg.

Slowly he opens the window and removes the letter, breathing in relief that it isn't the one he sent out but feeling the anxiety build from the writing on the front of it. It's from Gin, her handwriting still so familiar to him even after all this time, and he chuckles at the drops of ink her quill splattered near the corner of the parchment.

Harry,

Thank you. I'm sorry too, I know I wasn't the easiest to put up with back then either. I'm impressed you remembered my birthday, it's been a really long time. What are you up to these days?

Gin

Harry stares at the note, trying to determine his feelings because they are coming at him in a rush right now and he can't sort them out individually. He can, however, look at the pieces of what's happened so far. It's the same process he uses when deconstructing spells, and it's the only thing he can think to do as he stares at her pretty handwriting.

She wrote him back. He thinks this is the first thing to examine. He didn't expect a response. He's not sure he wanted one, but now that he has one, he's rather glad of it. It seems important somehow that he can converse with her, even if it's just mundane pleasantries via owl.

She accepted his apology. That's the next thing he thinks on, and he's able to pull out that he's relieved because he wasn't sure she would.

She apologized as well. This is more difficult to decipher how he feels about it. While he knows it takes two to tango, so to speak, he definitely feels he's more to blame than she. Still, her apology brings a small smile to his face, and even though he doesn't think he deserves it, he's appreciative that she felt to do so.

He impressed her by remembering her birthday. This feeling is a little easier to identify: embarrassment. He wished her a happy birthday and it's been a decade since they saw each other. It's a miracle that she's only impressed because he's aware of how obsessed it must look that in ten years he hasn't forgotten her birthday. Regardless of the fact that she doesn't seem to think it weird, he still shifts uncomfortably as he reads that line.

It's the last line of her letter that leaves Harry the most internally unsure of what he wants to do. Her last line, the question of what he's up to, it's an open invitation to contact her again, to respond to the letter, to not go another ten years without knowing at least something of what's going on in the other's life. There's a part of him that wants this, wants to know if they could start a friendship after everything that's transpired, maybe let it grow into something more again, like it did the first time. But another part of his mind tells him to stay away, to write a vague response that doesn't open the door for more interaction, and finally close this part of his life.

The clock on his wall chimes and Harry sighs; his time to think this through has run out. He slips the letter into his pocket, grabs his wand, and Apparates to work.

He realizes as the day wears on that he shouldn't have brought it with him. The letter is constantly on his mind which means Gin is also constantly on his mind. The last time Gin was constantly on his mind, it was just his school marks on the line. Now it's his job.

"Harry, what is going on?" Sirius asks after he's beckoned him over.

Alright, so maybe his job isn't on the line - working for one's dad and godfather does come with its advantages.

"Sorry, I'm preoccupied, I'll focus."

"What are you preoccupied about?" James comes up behind him and Harry holds back the groan that tries to escape his lips.

"Just stuff from my school years, realizing that I haven't properly apologized to a lot of people."

His dad laughs and throws an arm around him. "Say that around your mum, you'll make her proud."

Harry laughs and Sirius ruffles his hair. "Remember that most people do move on with their lives Harry, even when offenses aren't formally acknowledged and amends made."

"You're right," Harry tries to focus on the lightness he feels with his father and godfather and tells his brain to think about Gin later.

This works for the rest of the morning, but after lunch, when he's supposed to be documenting what he went through and found this morning, his mind wanders back again and he can't seem to get a grip. The problem is that he promised his dad this would get done today, so he has to get a grip. But his mind is spinning with all the things he could tell Gin, all the things she might tell him, everything that they've missed between each other in these ten years.

I'll just write it out, he thinks as he grabs a clean sheet of paper and his pen. If he can write the letter he'll be able to work and then he can decide tonight if he's going to send the letter or not. Just because the letter is written doesn't mean it needs to be sent. He has all afternoon to decide.

Gin,

Thank you, I don't particularly think I deserved your apology, but I'm glad for it all the same. I do still remember your birthday, but I promise it isn't mapped out on a dozen different calendars around my house. However, if you do show up on my doorstep don't take it personally if I take a few minutes to open the door.

I work with Dad and Sirius, I'm sure you remember they were trying to decipher all the parts in spells when we were in school, figure out what made them work and not work. Well, the Ministry was keen to know what made dark spells work and not work and how people can manipulate them, so Dad and Sirius started contracting with them. We still do our own work to map out spells, but we now spend a lot of time working with the Aurors to pull apart dark spells, often having to work backward from what the effects were to get to the actual spell that caused it, then determining where the weak points are. I love it, but I won't keep boring you with the details.

I saw that you made the starting team a few seasons ago. Congratulations on that. Is it everything you'd dreamed? I remember it was your favorite thing to talk about back then, imagining what it would be like when you made it to the big leagues, star chaser on a top team. Where do you go from here? Planning on being the head coach now?

I'm really glad I ran into you yesterday. Well, I'm not glad I bashed into you, but I'm glad I saw you. It's been a long time.

Harry

He signs his name and feels some of the tension ease out of his neck and shoulders. He chuckles at how quickly the words came once he quipped about how he wasn't secretly obsessed with her, it felt like the way they'd joke back then. He doesn't struggle to work for the rest of the day, and he feels like a dark cloud has been lifted from over him. So much so that once he's home, he doesn't even read the letter a second time, he just ties it to Hedwig and sends it out.

He's shocked when Hedwig returns about ten at night, Gin's response tied to her leg.

Harry,

You're sure you aren't harboring stolen calendars, all with the month of August pulled out so that you can circle the eleventh on each one with a bright red pen? I think I'm actually disappointed at the thought that you don't.

Working with your dad and godfather must be fun. Not that I would want to work with my family, but your family was always a guarantee for a laugh. How is everyone on your side? I don't know if Ron keeps you abreast of what's happening with our side other than himself and Hermione, so I won't risk boring you with things you might already know.

Being a starter has been a dream come true, though I had no idea what I was really in for back then. It's so much work outside of training and games. There's the press, the briefings before and after the press, the paperwork, the reading and examining of our playbooks, the meetings. I swear it's a wonder that we manage to make it through everything in a training day.

To be honest, I don't know what's next. As long as I don't get injured and keep playing at the level I am, I probably have five to ten more years to be where I'm at with the Harpies. I've thought about coaching, but I don't know if that's really what I want after this dream is over. I was so focused on achieving this dream, that I never considered what should come next. It's funny how we forget those long-term things when we're kids. We forget that there's life after our dreams too.

But I won't let things get gloomy here, because I'm really happy we saw each other yesterday too. It's been too long, and I thought we were good friends back then. Even with how everything turned out, you were one of my favorite people.

Gin

Harry grins down at Gin's letter like a fool. It isn't the contents of the letter as much as the fact that it's there, that she's talking to him, or writing rather. But as he reads it a second and a third time, he realizes it's not just that the letter is there, it's what she said in the end, that he had been one of her favorite people, even with how they let each other go, let their relationship end. She had been one of his favorite people then, and it occurs to him that he's still more than fond of her now. So much so that before he realizes it, he's pulling a fresh sheet of paper out and sitting to respond to her letter, regardless of the fact that he should be going to bed. But then Hedwig nips at his knuckles before hopping to her cage and immediately going to sleep, and Harry realizes that if he writes this letter now, he'd want Hedwig to send it out tonight, and he should let her sleep.

He does let Hedwig sleep, putting his paper and pen away, but his thoughts keep going back to Gin, and this new sort of friendship they're forming, and it takes him far longer to fall asleep than his owl.

His imagination swings from memories of how they were to how things would be different now, and all this serves to tell him is first that he's going to be very tired in the morning and second that while he and Gin are becoming penpals, his mind doesn't think that's enough. His imagination can't unsee her from the day before, and it's really unfair to him that she had paused mid-word when he looked down because her lips were parted and he knows what it feels like to lean down when her lips are slightly parted and bring his lips to hers, slide his tongue across her bottom lip, and smirk when her breath catches before she nips on his lower lip and tells him to shut up and kiss her.

Harry gives himself a firm mental shake. How had he not realized he had never really moved on from Ginny? He tries to come up with the same sort of scenarios with the other women he's dated, and while he can bring them to mind, it's not nearly as easy as it is with Gin, and it certainly isn't bringing up the same...feelings.

Merlin, how did he never realize this before now?

The anxiety blossoms anew and Harry's now agonizing over what to do, because this could simply be his brain making the one that got away feel like more than it was. Things hadn't been all wonderful, he reminds himself. But another part of him argues that they'd been children. They'd even fought like children, over childish things. They're adults now, they've learned how to have a relationship, the give and take. Why wouldn't they work now?

On and on his mind spins as he tries to sleep, but it doesn't seem to come until nearly four in the morning and the few hours he gets are filled with dreams of Gin, dreams from their past, but also dreams that his brain creates from what he saw for that brief moment with her, how much she is no longer the sixteen-year-old girl that he held ten years ago.

In the morning he has to take a cold shower to snap himself out of it all.

How had they let it go? How had they let it slip away? How had they been so short-sighted?

Harry has no answers to these questions, and when he finishes his quick shower he knows there's no time for letter-writing before work. Which results in him being just as distracted as the day before and exhausted as well.

"I know it's Friday but would you please not mentally check out before we've finished up?" His dad laughs at him.

Harry groans, which turns into a yawn. James watches him before motioning them out of the protected room that allows them to cast all manner of spells and not accidentally destroy the building. Harry forces his eyes not to roll and follows after his dad.

"What's really going on, son?"

Harry rubs his eyes and tries to determine if he wants to bring his dad in on this or not. His gut reaction is no, but he could really use someone else's input because he's at the point where he's running circles in his head with no end in sight. Besides, he isn't a teenager anymore, he knows how to push away his more problematic feelings and ask for help.

"Harry?"

"Do you remember Ginny Weasley? Ron's little sister."

James nods, "You two dated your last year of Hogwarts."

"Well, I ran into her in London on Wednesday." Harry leans his shoulder up against the corridor wall and goes silent as he tries to figure out how to say this.

"And…?"

"And I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since." Harry stares at a random spot on the floor. "I thought it was because I'd never apologized for what a prat I was at seventeen and how I didn't treat her as well as I should have. So I wrote a short apology and sent it out. She responded and now we're becoming penpals or something, poor Hedwig has been out on the daily. But what's really bothering me is I'm starting to think that I never really moved on from Ginny when we called it off."

"What makes you think that?" James asks as he mirrors Harry's stance.

Harry presses his forehead into the wall, still struggling to make his thoughts align into words.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about her. It's been ten years but I can still pull up all those memories like they were yesterday. Nothing feels like time has passed, whereas every other ex it's hard to bring up those old memories, and there are holes in them, things that I don't quite remember how they happened. But not with Gin, I could probably make you something like Mum's movies right now if you have a Pensieve handy because none of it is fuzzy, it would play out with perfect clarity."

Harry turns back to look at his dad and finds his square-framed eyes looking back at him with mirth.

"So write to her and ask to meet up tomorrow."

"Her birthday is Sunday, I'm sure she has plans with her teammates."

Harry watches his dad's eyebrows rise up into the bits of gray starting to mark his black hair.

"You remember her birthday?"

Harry groans and pushes his forehead back into the wall.

"Alright, don't suggest the day, just tell her you'd like to meet up and ask when it works for her. But, son, if you still feel this way about her, you won't move on until you've been able to gain some closure, whether that's getting back together or finding out the two of you have grown too far apart to make anything work."

Harry glances back at his dad and lets the idea sit for a moment.

"Alright, I'll see if she's willing to meet up, but what do I do if she's not?"

James places his hand on Harry's shoulder, "Then you'll know it's time to move on and we'll go from there."

It sounds sort of terrifying, but the same argument Harry's been coming back to the last two days resurfaces - they aren't children anymore. He isn't a child, and he's not going to start things off with Gin this time around as the same scared and awkward seventeen-year-old specky git he was before. She deserved more then, and she certainly deserves more now.

"Well, at least I don't have to think about what the letter should say when I write it tonight."

"Good on you, mate," James pulls him into a quick hug. "Now, let's get this spell figured out so we can head out."

"Are the two of you still not done?" Sirius comes out of one of the other rooms.

"We're on it, Black," James waves the door open and gives Harry a gentle shove. "Come on, before the boss over there fires us."

The decision to ask Gin to meet up with him is what gets Harry through the workday, but when he finally sits down to write the note, there's a part of him that feels like a panicking seventeen-year-old again.

"Don't be a wanker," Harry kicks himself and forces his pen to write her name on the index card he's chosen to keep himself from getting long-winded.

Gin,

This letter writing, while I can't think of a better penpal, is a bit cumbersome, don't you think? Would you be willing to meet up sometime? I don't want to get in the way of any birthday plans but if you have time, I'd like to see you outside of crashing into you on the pavement.

Harry

He reads the note three times, trying to decide if he should actually respond to her letter or not before deciding he won't; he'd rather talk to her in person about everything in her letter. Before he can talk himself out of this, he ties the note to Hedwig's leg and watches her fly off into the sky, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon.

[paperdoll-hearts]

❣️gin & q

Who is the little spoon?

Q loves holding her. Whether it be on the couch or in bed he always needs a bit of time to hold her before they go to sleep. Holding her brings a comfort that is unmatched by anything else. Yet when he is really stressed or fighting some negative emotions about the boys on his pro bono cases, he doesn't have to say a word and lays his head on her chest and she soothingly rubs his head and neck.

Who sings in the shower?

They both do. Q will hear her when in the shower and come in and join her in the song while he shaves. When she picks songs that he doesn't know he jokingly asks her if she hates his singing.

Who plays pranks on the other?

They are not the pranking type. It really isn't their sense of humor. Though in high school he definitely pulled a few jump scares to get her to scream.

Who is the one who listens to pop music?

Ginny probably knows more of the current stuff but Q will still jam to it when she puts it on. Start singing what he thinks he knows. Even when he has the lyrics totally wrong it doesn't stop him.

Who brings the other a random cup of joe?

Giving little treats back and forth has been a common theme in their relationship since they were teenagers. They are both people who constantly put others before them and they see that in each other and want to make sure the other is taking care of themselves and that is a way of doing that,

Who picks the cheesy movies for date night?

Either one will stick on a nice romcom to enjoy. They like the sweet stories and little movie nights are just a nice way to spend time together when schedules get hectic and they can't get away for date nights.

Who is more likely to feed the other in public?

They have been with each other so long that feeding each other bites of things just come naturally. If there is a dish they like they want the other to try it and they definitely have bought things to share but Ginny has to hold it because Q will scarf it down in a couple bites.

Who gives the other random little compliments?

Both do in spoken comments and in little notes that they leave for each other. They find it very important to be each others biggest encourager. And it isn't rare that every now and then they leave each other a card with a love note that has nothing to do with an anniversary or holiday.

Who is always stealing food from the other’s plate?

Ginny steals it off of his. He doesn't care but just wants her to verbally admit that she is a thief.

Who is more likely to let the other borrow their car?

Either one would let each other use their car if needed. Q likes to take her car sometimes and fill it up with gas and such so she won't have to stop during the week.

Who makes the list before they go grocery shopping?

Ginny is definitely the more organized one in making lists. It makes it easier to make sure they have everything for the family dinners and packed lunches. Q just says yes to everything the boys throw in the cart when he takes them.

Who makes sure the other takes their meds when sick?

They both take care of each other and make sure that they have what they need. Q forces her to stay in bed longer, making tea the way that she likes it and tells her he can take care of everything else.

Who watches sports and has to teach the other the rules?

Ginny was a cheerleader and at all his football games so she already knows the rules. She watches with him because he loves it and makes an effort to remember players names so they can talk about it. Q always notices the effort and honestly just loves seeing her in a Bears jersey.

Who pulls the other to their feet for a dance in the living room?

They have been dancing with each other since they were kids. It is something they will be doing until their last days together. As long as he is able to stand he is dancing with her.

Who has to keep reminding the other to hurry or they’ll be late?

They are both punctual people so neither really needs to tell each other. Telling the kids is a different story and a tag team job.

Who is the one most likely to get a tattoo with the other’s name?

While they wouldn't get full names, I could see them getting each others first name initial on the inside of their wedding ring finger.

[5thand59th]

Is Cru Nantucket worth it?

During our week on Nantucket, the first few days of the trip we heard multiple times from various people that we had to try Cru. I had heard about it before the trip too. The place is known for the waterfront views, great vibes, and lobster roll.

Despite everything we heard, I wanted to skip this place. I tend to be disappointed by places that are super famous and overhyped. But, WC surprised me one night while I was shopping and he said to come over to Cru since he snabbed a last minute table.

So, how was it?

I have to say, I had a great experience at Cru and there were a lot of things I loved about it... so much so that we came back on our last night on the island.

The best part for sure was the oysters. I am not kidding when I say I still dream about them. They were definitely some of the best I've ever had. They have a variety including ones from Nantucket. So fresh. The drinks were also on point. "What's Up Doc," with gin, ginger, carrot, pineapple, was a favorite.

The food was delicious. I had a yellow & red beet entree, and it was the complete opposite of a boring beet dish. The flavors were just perfect and we ate every bite.

And finally, the views and ambiance. This place is happening and it's definitely a "see and be seen" type of place. I like the decor; it's upscale but not at all too much or too stuffy. We posted up at the bar the second time and it was definitely a fun spot to be for Labor Day Weekend. The sunset from the wharf right outside the restaurant is spectacular.

As skeptical as I was, Cru is somewhere I would return and I think it's a great spot for anyone visiting Nantucket.

[chimtaesty]

Dark Creatures | part 1

pairing: OT7 x reader | 1,5k words

warning: gore, angst, swearing

plot: leading the biggest mafia group there is, is a job for a woman. So is living through things no one should witness. After keeping those secrets to stay alive it’s time to bring justice upon the ones who deserved it.

a/n: hi there! I’m finally back after a big writingblock. I’ve been thinking and thinking about what I would like to write and to be honest, I’ve been hit with so much sexism nowadays that I thought that this account needed some feminism content. So here is the starter to a two or three parter story. If you like my work, please let me know in the comments or like my works! Thank you a lot for your support and encouragements. I’ll be taking time to write new stuff and update u more frequently now :) - love ellie

masterlist

Loud grunts wake you from your nap. A knock on your office door let’s you sigh “Miss Y/N, there is someone here to see-“Open the fucking door” a low voice interrupted the poor bodyguard. You know who this voice belongs to, Kwon Mark. The son of a bitch who owed you a shit ton of money and snitched you out to the government a year ago.

“Let him in” you shout as you get up to get a glass of water. The door opens with a creek and a grumbling man enters. You text the rest of your team to immediately arrive in your office since you might need someone who stops you from ripping this bastard apart. “Sit down” you demand and he huffs with his eyes rolling in disrespect.

The connection you share with the seven of them is something special. You were the one to save their lives and change them to the people they are now. They owed you their lifes as much as you owed them yours.

Namjoon and Yoongi are the first to arrive. “Everything alright, Y/N?” Namjoon asks as you take a seat on your desk. Was everything fine? No, nothing was fine.

This bitch here owed you so much money that killing him wouldn’t be efficient at all. But letting him live came with a damn headache, he is associated with Joon-Hyuk and you didn’t like that connection. After Jimin, Jungkook, Hoseok. Jin and Taehyung arrived as well, Mark took it as the start for a conversation.

“Now that the men are here the secretary can leave and someone can tell me who the boss among you boys is” Your eyes widen in anger. The last thing you needed right now was a sexist man barging into your home. Men don’t fit the position of power.

With two steps towards the disgrace of a man you punch him square in the face. He jumps up trying to get a hold of you as you once again give him a punch to the throat.

“For starters, I’m not a fucking secretary you motherfucker. I’m the fucking boss, I’m their boss. So if you want to talk to the boss, you’ll have to talk to me, you piece of shit.” He gasps for air as you push him up onto the couch. Jungkook chuckles as you kick Mark’s shin in frustration.

“I’m gonna make things very clear for you, okay” he nods his head in a frightened manner as his wide eyes stare at you “You owe me a lot of money and I don’t like being called a secretary so here’s the deal. You get me my money by friday and I won’t chop your dick off” a gasp of air leaves his mouth

“My-y d-dick?” He whispers with tears in his eyes. “Yes, your fucking cock, Mark. So it’s really your choice, my money or your dick” he nods. With a shove you let Jin get him outside.

You turn around to sit yourself down at your desk. Jimin reaches out for the gin bottle and gives it to you, you take a sip and let your head fall back. “His dick, huh?” Hoseok laughs. “That’s something new, I haven’t done that yet” you chuckle.

“I can’t believe he didn’t know who you were,” Jin states as he re-enters the room. “Me neither, do I look like a fucking secretary?” Yoongi laughs as he takes the bottle from your hands “You? With that look? You look like you slash throats for a living not type emails for a rich bastard” you are satisfied with that answer.

“Alright boys, we need to meet Choi Joon-Hyuk in half an hour. Let’s see what this whack job has for us” you stand up just to be followed by the boys. The car outside is ready to take you to the location. “Jungkook, please enlighten us with the basics of Joon-Hyuk” he nods and starts to explain

“Joon-Hyuk, the right hand of Kim Lucas. He’s meeting us, technically Y/N but she insisted on having us all at the gathering, to discuss weapon and drug exchanges. Joon-Hyuk is an excellent sniper and very well trained in hand to hand combat. He has been working for Kim for about ten years now, so we know his loyalty lies one hundred percent with his boss” that’s what people like to believe, in all honesty, he’s a twisted motherfucker.

“What did you do?” The room was quiet. The only sound which could be heard was the sound of blood dripping to the floor. He was hunched over a little girl. She was whimpering, silently pleading for help as he raped her. You couldn’t breathe. At least ten more bodies were splattered over the white tiles.

Without thinking you grabbed the broken off leg of the ruined chair next to you and with all the strength you had in you, you struck it over his head. He fell over with a loud thud and you could see the only one alive. Her hair was wet with blood. Her skin cut and bruised and her pants ripped apart. You took the girl into your arms as carefully as possible and kissed her forehead. “No one will ever hurt you again, I’ll make sure of it. You’re save now” she was barely ten years old.

You nod and with the end of the explanation you all leave the car at the location Choi wanted you to meet him.

The door is opened by two packed men. You follow the waitress to a closed room where the man of the hour waited for you. “Ah, Y/N. How beautiful you look” he tries to pull you in for a kiss on the cheek but Jimin is faster to pull you away from him “Watch it” he threatens him and he backs off with a chuckle.

Your eyes narrow at the table in front of you. There is one chair on your side, but you are eight people. “What the hell is that?” You curse at Joon-Hyuk. “Now, now. No need for language. Take a seat, I’m sure your guard dogs can endure standing for a while” your face changes from confusion to anger.

“If there is one thing I hate more than men who think I’m a secretary are men who call my boys guard dogs. These men are the most loyal and skilled men you can find and they belong to me, If you like it or not. For the love of god, treat them with respect and get them chairs or I’m not sitting down”

Joon-Hyuk sighs and signals his men to arrange some chairs. “They are coming right up so please sit down” you take a seat and you start to discuss business over the very delicious dinner. “So what do you say to the offer?” You look at the man and think for a moment. “The offer is shit and you know it” his eyebrows fasten up and he is about to say something “We are not selling your stuff for this price let alone are you getting in our area on your own” Taehyung says as he takes a sip of the very sweet wine.

“And what would you prefer?” He asks carefully. He knows not to mess up. Lucas needs his stuff to be sold in our area and he has to accept our offer even if he doesn’t want to because having someone else’s stuff here would be unacceptable for him. “We thought about 30/70 for starters. If your stuff sells we can talk about changing things up” Jin smirks at Joon-Hyuk, he knows damn well that he has to accept. “But isn’t that a bit cruel?” You laugh “I could give Lee Ji-Won a quick call if you fancy that” he grunts in frustration. “Alright, I’ll mail you the contract.” You chuckle and eat one last bite of the steak. “Good, let’s go boys”

Joon-Hyuk is fast to stand up „Why are you leaving us this early? Not to mention that I actually invited only you, I would like to spend some alone time with you, Y/N. Catch up on the last years“ you close your eyes in frustration. Hoseok sighs and grabs your arm „Absolutely not.“ you signal him to simply  just wait a minute. You push yourself through your boys to the other side of the table

„Let me tell you something, Joon-Hyuk. Men like you don’t attract me. You’ve been serving Lucas like a little rat.  treating this man like god in hopes that the guilt you feel because of what you did to those kids might diminish. But the truth is that what you did is in no way ever forgivable and Lucas is just as much a piece of shit as you. You’re a disgusting cockroach, a nasty little leach. And if you don’t stop acting like he shouldn’t have decapitated you then I’ll change my mind and put your penis in a blender. Do we understand each other?”

He was about to say something. „And don’t talk back to me, I’m not your mother“

You grabbed Namjoon’s and Jungkook‘s hand and left the restaurant. In the car Jimin carefully started, testing te waters “Y/N, what exactly did he do?” You closed your eyes for a second to recall the tragedy.

“We were supposed to work together..”

[snarkwrites]

FFT: villainesses want heroes; ray palmer

Notes:

Okay look. It was fun to attempt writing a kind of morally gray / bad girl type. And it’s something I do wanna do again at some point.

Summary:

Ginger did all the wrong things for all the right reasons. And it nearly cost her family, a love and her actual life. Thanks to her sister Sara, she’s back on the Waverider and she’s recovering. When her memory returns, can she recover what she had with Ray? or is it too late?

Pairing:

Ray Palmer x Lance!OFC, Ginger

Warnings:

morally gray character, innuendo, mentions of temporary amnesia..

“You’ll do as I ask, Ginger.. Or your father and your sister Laurel? The real one? Well, they stay dead.”

The phone went dead and Ginger threw it, swearing as she practically paced a hole through the floor. From the doorway, her sister Sara spoke up.

“You’re the leak? You’re the reason Damien’s been a few steps ahead?”

That look of disappointment in her sister’s eyes had Ginger biting her lip and looking down, instantly ashamed of herself, despite Sara not really having any room to talk. “You don’t…”

“Don’t you dare tell me I won’t understand.” Sara was angry and hurt and stepping closer to the younger sister she thought she’d been bonding with.

Apparently, her baby sister was just using her as a means to an end. Sara stepped closer, glaring down at her and her sister swallowed hard, taking a few shaky breaths.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? I mean, color me curious. What’s so damn important that you’d throw all the good we’ve done.. That you’d throw your own sister.. Under the bus?”

“Damien promised me he’d bring back our dad and Laurel, okay? Look, you got years with them both. Mom, she… she whisked me away to Nebraska when I was still a baby. Do you think I liked growing up away from you guys? Do you think I wanted to deal with Mom always putting her teaching career over me and refusing to let me see our father or either of you?” Ginger snapped at her sister, pacing, winding her fingers through long blonde locks as she punched at the wall next to the door.

She was in over her head, she knew that now. Thing of it was, she was too little, too late. She clearly saw now that Damien had been using her from the start. Manipulating events that at any time could’ve gotten the team hurt or even killed. The only way out of the situation she’d gotten herself into was through it. And given the anger she saw in her sister’s eyes right now, asking for any kind of assistance to pull off what she had in mind was probably going to result in a brawl.

A throat cleared from the door and Ray stood there, staring at her in confusion. “You’re the leak? I thought..”

“Ray…”

Ray didn’t even bother sticking around, he turned and walked away, vanishing from Ginger’s sight and Ginger sank back into the chair, lightly beating her head against the back of it.

Yeah.. She was definitely going to have to go this one alone, it seemed. It’s what you deserve, Gin… her mind echoed as she stood and smoothed her shaking hands over the front of her favorite pair of jeans.

It dawned on her.. She had a particular advantage. Maybe if she acted quick.. She sprang up from the chair and made her way off the WaveRider….

And that was the absolute last thing she remembered, prior to waking up in the medic bay on the ship.

XXX

Everything fucking hurt. From the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes, there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t ache. The steady hum of the machines alerted her to the fact that something was.. Horribly wrong.

The platinum blond man stepped out, rubbed his hands together as he shook his head and chuckled. “I swear, I wish I knew what was so gosh darned enchanting about that idiot Palmer.. Not only did he manage to bewitch my own flesh and blood… But he got under the skin of one of my best assets.” the man tutted and shook his head, checking her vitals as he asked her calmly, “Do you still think shooting the serum directly into your neck was a good idea, Ginny? You’re such a smart girl, I’m almost disappointed to see you do something so foolish.”

“Look… I dunno who you are or what the fuck you’re talking about but… If you’re gonna kill me, make it quick, alright? It’s not like I got anything to live for.”

Damien eyed her, a brow raised at first. Then the look of confusion transformed into one of sheer joy. The memory erasing serum he’d been testing -and that she’d mistakenly grabbed when she was trying to steal the mock up of Mirakuru he had, it worked!

And it worked quite well.

Ginger felt that the guy was just dragging things out on purpose. She’d never really been a fan of someone who didn’t have the balls to get straight down to their intentions. Her mother always told her she got her mile wide stubborn streak and her strong sense of right and wrong from her father and that at times, it could be infuriating.

She managed to pry her wrists free and when the guy was puttering around his lab, she snuck up behind him, raising the only weapon she’d been able to find high above her head, every intention of braining him to death with it if it meant her making it out of this situation alive.

Her jaw dropped when he cleared his throat, lifted a finger and the object she held in her grasp fell to the floor with a noisy clank. He turned, staring her down. “If you’ll have a seat, I’m more than willing to explain everything… Including how you sought me out, desperate for dear old daddy to get one more chance at life… To have your whole family together again.. How you sold out your own sister for a chance to bring your dead one back.”

“You lying piece of shit!”

“Oh, but I’m telling the truth, darling.”

Ginger’s mouth opened and closed. While every fiber in her being wanted to believe the man was full of bullshit, there was this feeling deep down inside that insisted that no, he wasn’t.

And that thought blew her mind.

She went for the blunt object she’d been intending to use as a weapon again and Damien waved his hand, sending her crashing back into the room, a table toppling over on top of her. The table pinned her down, although by her own math, she should’ve easily been able to lift it.

The door burst open just as she started to black out all over again. She didn’t start coming to until she felt herself being scooped up.. The cologne.. Something about it was… familiar in a way.

She definitely knew whoever it was who was behind her rescue. She gripped hold of them, muttering the first name that came to her mind torn between consciousness and just giving in to the void again.

Ray sighed as he hurried down the hall, trying to locate Mick Rory to pass Ginger off for safety.

“Shh.. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I’m kinda like a cat. I tend to land on my…” she was starting to slip out again. Everything faded out and the next time she opened her eyes, she was somewhere entirely different. She almost wanted to say it was a hospital room… But something felt off about the whole thing.

The blonde woman who resembled her mother stepped towards her, a hand out and she tried to scoot as far away from her reach as possible. She was fighting against the drips and IV’s, hell bent on getting away and lucky she didn’t injure herself further. She stopped shy of ripping anything out because she’d always heard that doing that was never a good idea and she wasn’t keen on dying.

“Who the hell are all of you? Where the fuck am I?”

Sara caught her just as she managed to get a hand down to where her thick soled boots would’ve been normally and she spoke up. “Do you remember anything?”

“No… Wait… I remember a fight with a biker in an alley. Because he caught onto me hustling him in a game of pool..” Something about the memory didn’t feel right, but she wasn’t.. Sure about anything enough to know.

Sara glanced at Ray, tears stinging at her eyes. This was similar to the way her sister acted before they reconnected. Had her father lived -and been the one to raise Ginger, he would’ve definitely had his hands full, given some of their intel on her prior to choosing her to become a Legend.

Sara sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m Sara. Your sister.”

Ginger eyed her, wary. “I haven’t seen her since I was 4. How do I know you’re not lying? Mom told me Sara died…” Ginger trailed off, fidgeting.

“Mom believes that too. Nothin Dad tried tellin her would convince her otherwise.” Sara reached out and tilted her sister’s chin to make her meet her gaze. “Do you remember anything?” Sara tried again, hoping that maybe jogging her sister’s memory would free anything.

“Coming to Star City and visiting Dad’s grave..”

Ginger’s eyes settled on the lanky brunette male standing in the doorway and she nodded to him. “Getting shitfaced and waking up in a bed with that guy… Have you two… ya know? Because that tongue…” Ginger fanned herself, giving a giggle of delight at the way the guy blushed when every set of eyes in the room with him turned to fix on him at once. “In all seriousness.. He will totally rock your world.”

Ray’s face darkened and he cleared his throat.

Mick was quick to step between Ray and Sara, reminding her that the important thing here was to find out what Dahrk did to her kid sister while the guy had her. Ginger rubbed her head and grimaced as she felt dried blood and what felt to be a clumsy attempt at stitches.

“Well this is just peachy.” she mumbled as the others stepped out into the hallway. Sara immediately slapped Ray in the back of the head and Ray gave her a sheepish look.

“You… I can’t even right now.”

“Try being me.. She remembers our first night together.. But doesn’t remember anything else.. I get the feeling she might not take it well when she realizes just how serious we’d gotten before that night she left to go stupidly offer herself up to Damien.” Ray shook his head, swinging at a wall. “I still can’t believe she fucking did it.”

“She thought if she went and stole the device and serum herself, she’d be giving us an edge. She had all the passcodes to his compound, Ray. She’s never been afraid of anything. We both know this. Did you really think she’d sit back and just.. Let things go?”

“I wish she had.” Ray grumbled, taking a few deep breaths, staring intently into the room Ginger was currently recovering in. He’d spent months thinking he lost her too, that she’d died when they faced off against Damien a third or fourth time. And then they started to hear rumors about some badass new assassin. Apparently, she’d gotten on Damien’s bad side somehow, because the next thing they knew, Gideon was picking up a ping on Ginger.

Given that Sara had way more than enough time to calm down, to figure out the motive behind Ginger playing double agent, - a talk with her mother helped, and that in the months following Sara cooling down, she had ample amounts of time to settle into a pattern of blaming herself for her baby sister possibly dying, them going to try and rescue her and face Damien one final time was inevitable.

Ray hadn’t worried about anything beyond getting Ginger the fuck out of the compound. In fact, he’d kind of stepped up and really taken on leadership of the whole attempt.

Sara hadn’t been in the mindset to think clearly. To be honest, he hadn’t either, but he knew he wasn’t going to lose another woman he loved.

His hand rested against the glass as he watched Ginger like a hawk through the window. He couldn’t stay away, so while the others were talking, he made his way in quietly. Ginger’s eyes lit up at seeing him and she teased quietly, “Come to give me sweet dreams again, Dr. Feelgood?”

Ray stared at his hands. There was so much he wanted to say to her. Things he needed to say. But it all got trumped by the fact that he was just glad she was there and alive and able to say things to drive him crazy and make him blush.

“How’d you know?”

“Know what?” Ginger asked, moving to sit up, sort of snuggling against his side and leaning her head against his shoulder.

“I’m technically a doctor.. And that’s what you called me….”

“After that night when I woke up in your penthouse. I remember that much.” Ginger nodded, giving a frustrated sigh. The light bounced off of something on a chain around her neck, and curious, Ginger pulled the chain out of it’s hiding place beneath her favorite tee shirt. As soon as she saw the dog tags and read the name on them… And the simple engagement ring that was also on the chain, everything rushed back to her at once and she sighed, going quiet.

“Oh.”

Ray eyed her, eyed the necklace he knew she never took off. He swallowed hard at the sight of the engagement ring he’d gotten her as a ‘joke’ when they were stranded in 1975 together on her first mission with the team.

“You were more than just a one night stand to me and true to form, I completely fucked that up.. My sister, she… Why would any of you even bother coming for me after what I did?”

“Maybe sometimes, princess.. Maybe sometimes the good guys fall for the bad girls. Did you really think I was going to just leave you there?”

“Ray, I would’ve left me there, okay? I can’t believe I was so fuckin stupid. Damien was never gonna bring either of them back.. And I betrayed the only sister I have left.. And you, I-…” she trailed off, looking down at her lap. She was about to do something she hated doing and tried to av oid at all costs.

Something she hadn’t done since the night she came to Star City and spent an entire night sitting at her father’s graveside doing it. The fat tear made it’s trek down her face just as Ray tilted her chin to make her look at him.

“I get it. I didn’t at first. I wanted to hate you. I really wanted to hate myself… Especially after we thought.. Ginger, you’ve been gone almost a year now. We thought you died… I spent almost a year thinking that you died. Knowing I could’ve stopped you from leaving that night, but I was too disgusted by what you were doing to bother.”

He leaned in, cradling her cheek against his hand, wiping at her eyes with a tissue. “Everything is going to be okay. You’re back and I’m not… Nothing like that is ever going to happen to us again.”

Ginger swallowed hard. “It’s not too late?”

“When you really love someone, Ginger, it’s never too late to try and fix things. If that’s what you want.”

Ginger glanced down at the dog tags and the ring he’d given her in joking. She slipped the necklace from it’s place around her neck, unfastening it. Ray raised a brow, biting his lip as she slipped the ring off the ball chain and onto her finger.

“Does that answer your question, Dr. Palmer?”

He pulled her onto his lap and as they started to kiss, throats cleared from the doorway.

“For fucks sake, you two! Jesus, get a room.” Sara turned until they’d both finally caught on to not being in the room alone and could be bothered to pry themselves apart in the sense of public decency.

“You both done now?”

“Actually, as soon as I can get these stupid fucking drips out of me…”

“Don’t… Don’t you dare finish that, Ginger Louise Lance.” Sara groaned, laughing as she moved closer, making an attempt to hug her sister.

[wilsonsnest]

everything in between (you wanna marry me?)

I didn’t write this because the sambucky tag on here and ao3 is wildin but it sure sped up the process.

summary: Bucky agrees to go to a charity gala, gets introspective and just barely manages to propose to Sam.

Bucky had known he was in trouble that night when he left the bathroom, freshly showered and saw Sam, half-dressed, buttoning up his crisp white shirt. In that very moment, he had stood there, gaping like an idiot and almost told Sam he wasn’t feeling well enough to go out that night. Then his boyfriend had looked over at him, flashed him that bright smile, eyes crinkling before seeing how not dressed Bucky was and rolling his eyes. Bucky had made short work of getting dressed after that, fumbling over his own pants as Sam non-to-subtly hinted that they were going to be late.

In the end, Sam had to tie Bucky’s tie for him, the knot frustrating him on each turn. And when Sam had left to warm up the car, Bucky slipped the small box he had hidden in his only pair of dress shoes into his pants and prayed to any deity that would listen to an ex-assassin for help.

Once they had arrived to the hotel where the charity gala was being held, Bucky had practically plastered himself against the wall and did his best to disappear into the shadows. He didn’t like these types of things. Too many people, too much talking, too many open windows in a room full of some of the most influential people in the city. Stupid and reckless. Who threw expensive parties to raise money anyway?

This charity function had been one of the more low-key ones Sam had been invited to since taking up the mantel of Captain America. It was interesting watching the difference between how Sam treated the job and what Steve had done. Sam was conscious of his own image and effect, but not in that he felt he needed to be larger than life, but that he needed to be a good man. Sam never wore his field suit for interviews, press conferences or charity appearances (the exception was visiting kids in hospitals, where paparazzi was strictly prohibited). He always did those impeccably dressed in a sensible suit, completely put together, no matter how tired he was from a mission.

Bucky recalled watching him practically half-falling asleep on his feet tying the perfect knot in a dark navy tie looking like he might keel over at any second. Frustrated, he asked Sam why he even bothered. He had done so much, no one would care if he showed up in sweats and a ratty t-shirt.

Sam had just looked at him, the bags under his eyes seeming more pronounced and said “Trust me, they care. “

Sam had responsibilities to people that Bucky would never understand. All he could do was support Sam as much as possible and make sure his boyfriend didn’t get killed being the stubborn, amazing hero that he was.

It was nice to see that on this night, Sam seemed to be relaxed. He looked dashing in his dark maroon suit and was mingling amongst the crowd. He guessed that Sam must have met some of these people at other similar parties because he seemed at ease. This was Bucky’s first, though that was not without effort from Sam. He always asked Bucky if he wanted to come to these parties, and when Bucky said no, would end up taking Maria or Sharon as his date.

Bucky was surprised Sam hadn’t been suspicious when he agreed to this one. He hadn’t even batted an eyelid, just grinned and held up his hand for a high-five like the dork he was. Sam’s reactions to Bucky agreeing to do something with him never ceased to make Bucky’s insides melt.

He sighed, his vibranium arm had been tucked into his pocket the whole night, fiddling with the small ring box in its depths. He had an alternative motive for tonight alright, he just wasn’t sure he was going to convince himself to do it. He had sipped his way through four glasses of champagne already, hoping that he might even feel a twinge of something and regretting he hadn’t put in a request to Valkyrie for some of the strong stuff.

With a sigh, Bucky peeled himself away from the shadowy wall, he was starting to feel a little cagey. He knew if he said something, Sam would tell him it was alright for him to leave, because he was just so nice like that. Instead, he pushed through the glass doors of the dining room and out onto the open rooftop. Lights were strung up around the sides, and there were a few lone tables for setting down drinks. He was one of five people who’d bothered to come out into the chilly fall air and he felt like he could breathe again.

He maybe got ten minutes alone before he herd footsteps approaching and instantly tensed. He had hoped his plain black suit and ponytail had made him anonymous, but….

“You here all alone, buddy?” Sam smooth voice was only betrayed by the laugh he was obviously holding back. “Handsome fella like you?”

Bucky’s shoulders relaxed as he turned rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. Sam sounded absolutely absurd trying to use ‘old man slang’ as he called it.

“The guy I came with ditched me.” Bucky groused but reached out to take the wine glass Sam held out to him. Sam raised his glass towards Bucky and he hesitated for a moment before clinking them together.

Sam took a sip before sighing gently, his eyes half-lidded and looking down at his glass for a moment. He seemed almost wistful, and Bucky moved in closer, concerned.

“Thanks for coming.” Sam finally looked up at him, his brown eyes were warm even in the dim lights. “I know this isn’t your scene. But it means a lot to me.”

Bucky swallowed thickly and nodded, his hand clenching around the box in his pocket. He and Sam hadn’t come out in a press conference or anything, but they didn’t hide their relationship either. They went out on dates, or shopping and if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. Out of privacy or their desire to believe whatever they wanted, neither Sam nor Bucky cared.

“I know I probably messed up yours and Steve’s gin rummy night.” Sam bumped him companionably, his grin turning into a cheeky smirk. “I know how you old people like your card games and your Wheel of Fortune.”

Bucky snorted loudly. “Steve hates Wheel of Fortunate. I hate Wheel of Fortune.” He took a sip of the wine, it was far too sweet. “Besides, its past his bedtime.”

“Oh, is that his excuse?” Sam was only half-joking at that. Steve enjoyed his anonymity to an almost alarming degree in his old age. Despite his better than average health, he loved using generic grandpa excuses for getting out of things. He hardly ever stayed the night at their house, and would leave before 8:30 if he couldn’t be cajoled into staying longer.

Sam’s guess was kinky 50s and up swingers parties, Bucky was pretty sure it was staying up all night binging foreign soap operas.

“The party’s starting to wind down.” Sam sounded relieved. He placed a hand on Bucky’s elbow and led him over to one of the high tables near the raised wall of the roof. The city was still bright with lights from the surrounding hotels and businesses. Taxis and cars zipping their way down the streets well into the late night.

“Sorry I wasn’t much company.” Bucky said with a shrug, setting down his drink on the table next to Sam’s.

Biting his lip, he slid his arm around Sam’s waist, happy to have his boyfriend’s warmth against him. This wasn’t the type of party that people danced at, but Bucky sorely wanted to. He imagined if it was just him and Sam on this roof, maybe a four piece band in the corner. God, he would dance all night just to have Sam in his arms.

“You were fine.” Sam said, shaking his head. “I know most of them already. They’re alright, for rich people anyway.”

“Right.” Bucky nodded, looking off into the distance. His breath caught as Sam leaned his head on his shoulder. He knew, he could feel it. This moment was perfect, he just needed to pull the thing out and get it over with. The thought that Sam would say no hadn’t even crossed his mind. It was just the presentation. He wanted it to be right. This was the story they were going to have to tell people, the one Sam was going to remember every time he looked at the ring currently burning a hole in Bucky’s pocket.

“Baby, lighten up.” Sam tapped at his hand. Luckily it was his flesh arm that had curled tightly into the fabric of Sam’s suit. “You okay?”

Sam looked so earnest, and honestly concerned. Bucky dropped his arm from around Sam’s waist and took a step away, taking in a deep breath. His boyfriend’s eyebrows knit together, worried creases forming on his forehead and Bucky realized he was staring and waiting for too long.

He grasped the ring box in his hand and pulled it out of his pocket. He wasn’t nearly discreet enough as Sam’s sharp eyes caught the movement. Brown eyes widened, shining almost dark golden from the hanging yellow lights.

“Bucky—“

Bucky made a strained sound and held up a hand. No, he had to do this right and then Sam could call him stupid and foolish and kiss him a hundred times after. He lowered himself down on one knee, his eyes locked on a spot somewhere between Sam’s eyes. If he looked at him dead-on, he just knew he would trip over all his words.

“Samuel Thomas Wilson,” Bucky could feel his heart hammering in his chest. “Sam, my Sweetheart, my fella. Biggest pain in my ass, bravest man in the world.”

He had only skipped about seven words in his rehearsed proposal so far. So Bucky counted it as a win. He held up the ring box and opened it, revealing the shiny silver ring. “Will you marry me?”

His gaze know locked with Sam’s, watching as the realization dawned in those beautiful brown eyes. For a moment Sam just stood there, eyes wide with shock before he reached fore-ward and gently placed his hands on Bucky’s forearms to urge him up.

Sam’s hands were trembling, clutching the fabric of Bucky’s black suit jacket. “Are you serious? You wanna marry me?”

Bucky blinked owlishly. Sam didn’t seem unhappy, just completely shocked. Hadn’t they talked about it? He could have sworn that… Oh, right. He smiled, and gently took one of Sam’s hands and kissed the back of it gently. “Remember when I asked you not to jump out of the jet when we were still waiting for intel on the massive underground bomb manufacturing plant?”

“You told me it was really annoying having to sneak into hospitals and fight with the nurses to see me every time I got myself half-way blown up running into things without back-up.” Sam’s eyes were wet and he sniffled a little. “Then I jumped out of the jet anyway.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky smiled and squeezed Sam’s hand encouragingly.

“I didn’t know that you were talking about marriage!” Sam laughed, using his free hand to wipe at the tears forming in his eyes. “Stupid, I thought you were talking about changing my contact information.”

“I mean, I had plenty of time to bring it up after that.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed Sam’s forehead. “What do you say, Sam? Marry me so I can say ‘Mr. Wilson-Barnes here to see Mr. Wilson-Barnes’ from now on?”

“We’ll work on that.” Sam replied indulgently. He gingerly took the ring from its box and held it up closer. It was was a silver band, but as he peered closer he could see thin strips of gold, almost like the plates on Bucky’s new arm. “Something old, something new.”

“I thought an exact replica of my arm would be sort of weird.” Bucky admitted sheepishly. “T’Challa agreed.”

“Is this?” Sam asked, a renewed awe in his voice.

“Yeah. I figured it was sort of a long shot, but..” Bucky ducked his head a little. His continued friendship with the King of Wakanda and his family still humbled him. “I got lucky.” He whispered, catching Sam’s eyes again.

“Can I?” Bucky asked, indicating the ring.

“Oh damn, I didn’t even say yes.” Sam shook his head at his own fumble and handed the ring back to his boyfriend - fiancé. “Yes, please.”

His hands didn’t tremble as he slid the ring onto Sam’s finger, but his heart sure nearly leapt in his throat. Now he was the one with tears stinging the corners of his eyes and he couldn’t take his eyes off the ring on Sam’s fingers. It was official, they were getting married. Sam was his fiancé and they were going to get married.

“You wanna marry me?” Bucky whispered, repeating Sam’s earlier words back to him.

“Oh God, let’s not start this.” Sam’s smile was watery and before Bucky could say anything else, he pulled his fiancé down and drew him into a long sweet kiss. Behind them, the sounds of the party and city faded away until it was just the two of them and everything in-between.

[strwberrytae]

Piano Man [M]

✦ characters: seokjin x reader ✦ summary: the piano man was everything you wanted and more. he was classically handsome, extraordinarily talented, and oozed sex appeal - the silent type. little did you know just how perfect he was for you and does he have a long, miserably arousing night planned ahead for you. ✦ genre/words: daddy kink. spanking. public s*x. |  5k ✦ a/n: gif made by me and not gonna lie, not into the whole daddy kink anymore but it doesn’t mean dominance doesn’t make me weak in the knees. so why not? xx

It wasn’t everyday that you felt like you could easily be hypnotized by music; or anything for that matter. Although, it also wasn’t everyday that you felt like you could be so mesmerized by another human being. They called him the Piano Man; no other name except for what he was known for.

Every Friday night was the same. He would show up, nine o’clock on the dot, sit on the black stool and begin to play. A word would never come from his mouth, just that look. It sends chills down your spine. You were the waitress he chose to bring him his hourly cocktail; gin and tonic, three rocks and a cucumber. No one knew why he chose you but no one ever questioned him.

As his tune began, you sauntered over in your knee-length black dress that hugged your every curve. Balancing the tray through the crowd of tables and merlot buzzed customers. As crowded as the room was, you felt as if he was the only one in the room. His alluring melody drew you to him like a charmer conjuring a snake from its basket. It was haunting yet so arousing.

When you reached his side, you set the glass on top of the piano with a coaster. Sneaking a good look at him because, honestly, he was absolutely stunning. His tall frame displayed handsomely through his black pants, white button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone to tease you with the sight of his chest. His bleach blonde hair parted perfectly in the most seductive fashion and his perfectly almond shaped coffee brown eyes that told a story with every glance. Without looking at you, with those sinful eyes, he smiled at the corner of his mouth; a silent thank you. This was new.

He never acknowledged your presence. It made you skip a beat in your stride as you made your way back to the bar. As you walked away, you could have sworn you heard subtle laughter under his breath; turning your cheeks crimson red and your heat twitch in response. How is that you could be so wet by a man that has never even touched you?

The next hour came by much slower than you wanted. The Piano Man was in a different mood tonight. Before it was as if you didn’t exist - not tonight. Each time you walked past him, his eyes bore into you. No smile. No wink or twitch in his mouth for a smirk. No acknowledgment of any kind to let you know the intent of his stare. It was just…dark.

As the bartender made his drink, you found yourself subtly shifting your legs; discomforted by the aura of the room. The entire atmosphere was different. If people weren’t flagging you down to make an order, you would have completely forgotten there was anyone else in the room. There in a dimly lit corner of of the bar is where he played; away from the rest of the crowd - in his own world. To say the least, it was enticing.

The ache between your legs was so frustrating. Hard to say if you could make the entire night without having to excuse yourself to the ladies room - sweet release. Knocking you out of your thoughts, the bartender handed you the liquid that was made with perfection. Balancing it on your tray, you escorted the drink to him. When you reached the piano, he continued playing as if you weren’t there. Setting down the drink slowly, anticipating another glance, you got nothing. Without thinking, you let out a slight scoff under your breath as you walked away. Underneath the melody, once again, a soft, low chuckle escaped his lips. You turned your head quickly to find him grinning to the keys under his fingers.

What game is he playing? Not paying attention, you bumped into another waitress, almost causing her to spill her tray.

“Watch where you’re going, Y/N,” she said in a mildly frustrated tone. “What’s with you tonight?” Embarrassed, you apologized and hoped he didn’t see. Based on the wider grin on his lips, he did.

The next hour was hell times three. The Piano Man seemed to show many sides of himself tonight and it was confusing as hell. If he wasn’t dancing his fingers across the white and black keys, he was running them through his hair. If he wasn’t pressing his lips to the cold glass you provided him, he was licking and biting those perfect lips. The perfectly plump lips that you desperately wanted on your core; bringing you blissfully to an orgasmic nirvana.

Hunched over the bar with your head hung low, the bartender laughed.

“You alright, Y/N,” he asked. You let out a deep, cheek filled breath and stood, smacking the counter lightly.

“No but I will be… I’m gonna take a quick five after this, okay?” The bartender furrowed his brow with confusion hinted in them and nodded his head as he handed you the drink. In a rushed but graceful stride, you brought the Piano Man his drink. Taking him in one more time before you released your tension; who could blame you? Setting the drink down with confidence, you turned on your heel.

“Take off your underwear and bring them to me,” you heard a low voice say, causing you to stop dead in your tracks. Turning around, the Piano Man was still playing in the corner but there was no one else around that would have said anything. Slowly, you walked back to him, looking slightly insulted.

“E-excuse me.” you asked in almost a whisper. He let out a frustrated sigh and raised his darker colored eyebrows.

“I’m only going to ask once, Y/N. Now be a good girl and do as you’re told.” With a mix of being annoyed and shocked, you were also incredibly aroused. A dominant man was one of your weaknesses and he was certainly a bold one. You swallowed hard, trying to get your wits about you.

“And what makes you think I would do something like that,” you asked with a voice that was both confident and shaky. The Piano Man looked up from his keys with a coy smirk and scoffed.

“Because you wouldn’t be questioning it if you weren’t considering it. Now. Go.” He returned his gaze back down to the piano, leaving you standing in shock. Of course you were considering it. Who asks such a thing if they weren’t into you? Unless this is another one of his games. Why was this so triggering, you asked yourself. Before long, you were walking away to the bathroom; like a robot that was just given a demand.

Stepping into the private, single bathroom, you shut the door and locked it. You pressed your back against the cold wood and let out a sigh. The music was faint inside the walls and he was finally out of your sight. Now that you were out of sight and out of mind, your senses were slowly heightening behind these walls. It was as if you could hear your own heartbeat as it pounded against your chest; the adrenaline quickening it from the action you were about to pursue. The coldness from the door was tingling your skin in all the right ways. Your breaths were hushed and staggered.

That man had a way into your head that no man had ever had before. It was as if he compelled you to do what he wanted. Mechanically, your hand travelled south to the hem of your tightly fitted black dress. The fabric slid up your soft legs. Finding the hem of your lace panties, you hooked your fingers inside and contemplated taking them off. But the feel of your fingers on your hot skin ignited something; a thought entering your mind. Just for a minute, you convinced yourself.

Your fingertips grazed your skin and followed the v-lining to your core. The anticipation made you twitch beneath your fingers; your wetness became more evident. A soft moan expired from your lips as you slid into your folds. The velvety skin becoming wet as your fingers dipped inside of yourself for lubrication. You swirled your fingers over your clit as your free hand made it’s way up to your breast to assist your self-induced bliss. The knuckles on your hand rubbing against the lace as you pleasured yourself, rubbing them numb. Your chest rising and falling beneath it as you massaged your breath. The orgasm that you’ve been craving since you saw him tonight was rising, so you quickened your circles. Your legs were becoming weak below you as you chased your release. Building and building, your clit becoming hot from the friction. Your heart racing and your breaths becoming desperate for more air.

“Y/N,” a man called as he knocked on the door. You shot your eyes open and ceased all movement. You’ve got to be kidding me. He knocked again.

“Y/N? Look, I’m sorry to bother you but he requested another drink and he asked specifically for you to bring it. He seemed kind of irritated and wanted it right now.” Shit…

“Uhhh…yeah. I’ll be right there,” you said nervously as you hurried to slide your underwear down your legs. Your arousal was visible on the lining; both exciting you and terrifying you. You knew why he demanded a second drink within the hour. Taking a deep breath, you folded the underwear and closed your hand so no one would see it as you exited the bathroom. It seemed as if everyone was looking at you, but really they weren’t. How the hell were you going to explain why you were holding your underwear if someone asked.

When you reached the bar, the drink was already waiting for you; with no coaster. The bartender must have caught the confused look on your face.

“He said he didn’t need our coasters, that you already had one. I thought you might know what he meant. He’s being really weird tonight.” You looked down at your hand and the light bulb went off.

“Yeah…tell me about it,” you mumbled under your breath. As soon as the bartender turned away to assist another thirsty customer, you took the fabric and placed it on the tray. You set the drink on top and made your way to him. The arousal between your legs felt more noticeable than ever as you had nothing to catch it as you walked. Embarrassment rose on your cheeks as you thought everyone around you would know that you weren’t wearing anything but carrying it on the black tray like a platter.

When you approached the Piano Man in his corner, you stood there shyly waiting for him to say something; but he kept playing. You slowly set the drink down and held the tray in front of you against your legs as if to shield your exposed sex. He let out a sigh.

“You were gone a long time,” he said in a low voice. You swallowed hard before answering.

“I’m sorry. I had to…use the bathroom.” Internally, you were hating yourself for saying that. The Piano Man smirked and looked at your hands as your fingers were fidgety.

“You’re lying,” he said smugly. Playing effortlessly with his one hand, he reached over with another and grabbed your wrist. You gripped tightly on the tray to keep it from falling as you gasped, scooting over closer to him as he pulled you near.

“What are you-” Before you could finish your sentence, he put two of your fingers in his mouth. His tongue rolled over your fingers to taste them. Heat ferociously rising to your cheeks and looking to see if anyone was looking; thankfully no one was. He slid your fingers out of his mouth with a hum and released your hand.

“That’s what I thought.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head as he continued to play with both hands. Looking you in the eyes, you could see his scolding disappointment; his brows furrowed.

“Do I make you nervous, Y/N,” he asked with a soft twitch on his lips as they eased into a smirk. You nodded your head slowly.

“I’ll take care of you soon, princess. Don’t worry. But until then, if you touch yourself again, I won’t go easy on you. Bad girls get punished for not listening and you’ll want to listen to me, Y/N. Do you understand?” His voice was so smooth, so fluid like it was rehearsed. Your body and mind was so obedient to him and you didn’t understand it but you weren’t questioning it anymore.

“Y-yes sir…” At that, you turned on your heels and walked away. The bartender chimed a small bell at the bar - a call that you heard every night but held a much darker meaning tonight.

“Last call!”

Another night was coming to an end but this night was unlike any other. The sweet smell of vanilla still hung in the air from the cigars that lingered in the room throughout the night. The pungent smell of alcohol still burned through your nose. The lights had dimmed even further as the last customer stumbled out the door. The music had ceased and only the sounds of the bartender putting up the last remaining glasses filled the air.

The Piano Man stood off to the side with your manager, discussing something. You watched him nervously as he stood there calm with his hands in his black dress pant pockets. The bartender laughed lightly under his breath.

“You really don’t know how to make it less obvious, do you?” His comment pulled you out of your daze and you looked at him with a tint in your cheeks.

“Does this make me pathetic? I mean how the hell does he do that? No one has ever affected me this much.” Without intending to, you vented to your friend and you fiddled with an empty glass. You had already downed your shift drink that you were granted each day you worked; always savouring it for last. Your friend grabbed a bottle of whiskey and filled your glass again, two fingers this time.

“I won’t tell if you don’t. It looks like you could really use it,” he said with a soft laugh. He took the towel from his shoulder and wiped his hands before tossing it behind him on the long bar.

“Clean that when you’re done. I’ll uh…let you close up tonight.” The bartender looked at the Piano Man, who was stealing a glance at you before returning his vision back to your manager. He shook his head and whistled away.

“Good luck, Y/N.” Abandoning you, he walked away and said his goodbyes to the two men. The manager realized the time and shook hands with the Piano Man; praising him yet again for playing beautifully and presenting him with his healthy amount of tips from the night. The manager turned on his heels and walked away, giving you a quick wave.

The Piano Man put the thick white envelope on the far end of the bar and smirked to himself. His movements were slow and seemingly well thought out. Feeling your nerves rapidly taking over you, you took a swig of your elixir in hopes of it providing you with courage. The second you heard the front door close, you knew that you two were completely alone; as did he.

He made his stride over to you as you sat in your barstool; legs pressed together tightly as you recalled how bare your core was. Easing his hand into his pant pocket, he pulled out your black lace underwear; rubbing the fabric with his thumb. When he reached you, his dark chocolate eyes bore into you like he was casting a spell on you. He set the fabric down on the bar and reached for your drink; his eyes never leaving yours. He brought the glass up to his perfectly plump, pink lips and smelled the liquid.

“You really shouldn’t be drinking, Y/N. I need your head clear for what I’m going to do to you.” His voice came out velvety and low; certainty in his voice. You swallowed the lump in your throat and let out a shaky breath. His tongue extended and he licked the rim of the glass, just where your lips had been before.

“W-what are you going to do to me…” Your eyes watched his tongue, taking in the sinful action. With a smirk on his lips, he finished your drink and set the glass down. Grabbing the sides of your face, he pressed his lips to yours in a hungry and passionate way that took your breath away. Your whiskey stained lips merged together and the spiced taste lingered on your tongues as they danced together. A moan vibrated against his lips as it left you. He pulled away and licked his lips before biting the plumpest lip of his.

“Come with me,” he beckoned as he eased his fingers between yours as he took your hand into his. He led you off the barstool and led you away from the bar. Your steps were not as graceful as his long legs walked perfectly to his destination.

“Wait. I don’t even know your real name,” you said shyly. The Piano Man stopped and turned to you; always so coy and cocky.

“Seokjin. My friends call me Jin. But tonight, princess, call me Daddy.” Your breath hitched and whatever responses your body felt compelled to endure, this was entirely different. Your body fell to complete submission and your core ached even more. Jin closed the gap between you and put his hand softly against your neck as he looked you in the eyes.

“Is that okay, princess?” Princess. There was that word again - that word that was your secret weakness that no one knew. Yet here was this man that you have only known through three second interactions every weekend for the past two months, and he was everything that you always wanted.

“Yes Daddy….” Jin let out a low growl, releasing his hold on you and continued in his stride. His thumb grazed the back of your hand as he held it. Out of your haze, you realized he was taking you to his corner; his tool, his sanctuary. Jin guided you over to his precious instrument, leaving you to stand beside it as he grazed the keys with his fingers. Watching him admire it was incredibly attractive. It was similar to the glances he had given you tonight; a longing and yearning for something.

“Come here,” he instructed softly without breaking eye contact. You took two steps closer and stood beside him. A sigh purred from his lips.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Y/N?” Being caught off guard, you looked at him wide eyed as your cheeks became flushed. Your words were more like stuttered noises, not knowing what to say.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. This amused Jin. He chuckled lightly under his breath and stepped closer to you after closing the lid to the piano keys.

“Such a timid one now,” he reached up and grazed your jawline with his finger, making you close your eyes at his touch. “So submissive…” Your eyes opened at the word. His finger went down your neck, his hand forming to your arm as he slid down the skin. In a swift motion, Jin grabbed your hips and lifted you onto the top of the piano. A surprised gasp chirped from your lips. Without breaking eye contact with you, he slid his hands down your soft legs and took off each heel; letting them fall to the floor.

“I want to show you just how beautiful you are, Y/N.” Jin grabbed a hold of the inside of your knee and bent back your legs to prop them against the piano lid. He reached up and shifted your dress to expose your core to him; dripping wet and throbbing with desire. So vulnerable and shy as you presented yourself before him. His firm but silky smooth hands skimmed down the inside of your thighs, spreading them as he inched further to where you wanted him most. He could hear your breaths skip like a pebble skipping across water.

A smirk stretched across his lips as he lowered himself down to sit on the piano stool. His face level with your heat and you couldn’t help but to watch him. Jin applied his finger to your folds and stroked the center; your breath hitching from the contact as you bit your lip.

“So beautiful,” he praised. Using his long fingers to spread you, his head disappeared between your legs. His tongue lapped up your folds and flicked your clit. You threw your head back and had to catch yourself on your elbows to keep from falling back. The sensation was so intense because your body craved it so much. His warm breath against your core was pure ecstasy and his tongue was the igniter. He wrapped his plump lips around you and sucked on the swollen bud.

It was too much and your body was quickly growing weaker. You laid down completely and gripped your fingers on the edge of the piano. Your chest heaving up and down as his tongue devoured you.

“Don’t stop, Daddy, I’m so close,” you moaned as you started to grind gently against his tongue to get there faster. Suddenly, you felt cold and abandoned. You let out a small whine and leaned up to look at him. His lips glistening with your arousal, licking away the juices.

“You don’t cum unless I say so. Do you understand?” His words took you by surprise. He didn’t honestly expect you to hold back an orgasm that has been built up for so many hours. It’s impossible.

“I…I can’t- Ahh!” Jin smacked the inside of your thigh; the sharp sting tingly so close to your core.

“I said ‘do you understand’. Y/N, if you cum, I’m going to make your punishment far less enjoyable for touching yourself earlier. You’re just lucky I’ve been dying to taste you so badly. But since I have- ” Jin stood and took your wrist. You leaned up and he lifted you off the piano, leading you away from the instrument to a leather couch resting in a private corner.

“ -now you’re going to know what happens to bad girls when they don’t listen.” Seokjin stood before the couch. Running his fingers through his blonde strands before unbuckling his black belt. He folded it once and set it down the coffee table in front of the furniture. Your heart quickened with the anticipation of what was to come; internally thinking that you really shouldn’t be this excited to feel pain, but you were. A pleasure induced pain that would send you to nirvana. Jin sat down, unbuttoned a couple more of his buttons on his shirt and looked up at you.

“Bend over my lap, ass in the air and look down with your hands bound together.” His instructions were precise and you obeyed. You climbed onto the couch and got into your position as he asked. Before mentally preparing yourself, you felt a sharp smack on your cheek. You yelped and bucked your ass a little. Jin placed his hand on the cheek to warm the sting, prolonging the sensation as your skin didn’t have room to breathe.

“Why did you touch yourself, Y/N?” His voice was low and textured with testosterone. The blood was rushing out of your head as it hung low. Jin only waited three seconds before releasing another blow to your cheek.

“Answer the question,” he demanded in a soft but stern voice. You turned your head to look at him but he smacked you again.

“Head down, Y/N.” You blushed and you tried to hide your smile. It was fun making his dominance come out and you wondered how far you could push him. Dangerous, uncharted territory but that was the thrill in it.

“I’m sorry,” you said innocently. “I touched myself because I needed it…” Jin hummed and smoothed his hand over your slightly sore cheek.

“You needed to be touched, princess? Did I drive you that crazy?” His voice was like warm butter; silky and smooth. You sighed and shifted your legs together slightly as you were becoming wet again.

“Y-yes Daddy…” A smile fell on his lips as he caressed your reddened cheeks, spreading them as he inserted his two middle fingers inside of you.

“Good…” Without warning, Jin drove his fingers in and out of you rapidly. You dropped your head onto the couch, digging your fingers into the back of your hands as they were still locked together. Moans vibrating against the leather cushion as your walls clenched around his fingers. A subtle tear came out of your eye as the pleasure from his long fingers were so intense.

“Do you want to cum, princess? You feel so close for Daddy.” The teeth against your bottom lip squeezed so tight as you tried not to scream; gasping for air and as he showed no mercy after inserted a third finger.

“N-no. Not l-like this,” you moaned. Jin ceased his fingers immediately.

“No? How do you want it, princess,” he asked in a low voice as he gently stroked your folds.

“I want your cock. I need you inside of me and I want to cum on your cock. Please…” A low growl erupted in his throat as the words made his length twitch. It was already straining against his pants but your need for him heightened his arousal. Jin pulled you up and you sat back on your heels as he stood. He locked eyes with you as he unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, pulling it over his bare, broad shoulders. His torso was toned in the most perfect way; not too much and not too little. You took in the sight of him and your body wanted more from him.

Crawling over in front of him, you looked up at him as you unbuttoned his pants. He felt the urge to stop you but he loved watching your lust over him. His pants and boxers dropped and hung around his ankles. Your jaw dropped slightly at the sight of him. He was certainly well-endowed and springing to life. A deep chuckle came from and he picked you up to make you stand before him. He turned you around so you faced the wall.

“Don’t move,” he demanded. You heard him shift and could hear the foil packet being ripped open with his teeth, followed by him spitting the loose contents onto the floor. Jin slipped the protectant on and in a rushed attempt, bent you over in front of him. You caught yourself with your hand on the back of the couch; pulling your knees up onto the leather cushions for better support. Jin positioned himself behind you, stroking the tip of his erection against your entrance to lubricate it with your juices. You gripped the cushion tighter, desperate to feel him. He could hear your little whines under your breath and slammed his hips against you. Jagged and harsh breaths hissed from your lips along with a string of curses and moans as he started ferociously thrusting into you.

“F-fuck…yes…just like that…harder.” Your demands rolled off your tongue and you didn’t care if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. By the feeling of his fingers digging into your hips and the animalistic grunts and pants from behind you, he didn’t mind.

“Fuck Y/N…I hope you’re close. I’m not going to last much longer.” A scorching desire bubbling in your stomach; knowing that he was struggling for his release just as much as you were. Jin reached below you and swirled his fingers over your swollen clit. You dug your head into the cushion in front of you to soften the hits your head were taking forward as he pounded wildly against you. He quickened his pace and rolled his head back.

“Now Y/N. Cum right now,” he hissed. Like a bolt of electricity, you orgasm seared through your veins; igniting your skin. It felt like multiple orgasms that have been built over hours were exploding inside of you. As your walls quivered and tightened around his length, Jin reached his high as yours slowly came to an end. He chased it as he pounded into you at a speed he didn’t know he was capable of; filling you entirely. His release erupted as he let out a moan that almost sounded pained.

Slowing his thrusts, his breaths slowed as well as his heart continued to race. He laid his sweaty head against your back and you couldn’t help but to laugh. He pulled out and wrapped his arm around your waist; pulling you down onto the couch with him. He held you close and kissed your damp shoulder; feathering kisses across the skin.

���Oh so you do have a sweet side,” you teased. He playfully bit your shoulder and made you giggle.

“And you have a bossy side,” he purred the words into your ear before kissing below it. Thinking for a moment, you shifted to look into his sated eyes.

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” Jin laughed lightly.

“Starving. Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.” He helped you up off the couch along with him and playfully smacked your ass as you stood.

“Then after we eat, maybe you’ll feel well enough for round two.” Jin pulled you close by you waist against him. You chuckled lightly, the lust and darkness back in your eyes; unable to get enough of him. The Piano Man was certainly going to be the death of you.

“Sounds perfect to me.”

[prevaricatcr]

‹ TARON EGERTON, HE/HIM, CISMALE, BISEXUAL.  ›  ELLIOT GALLAGHER is the TWENTY SIX year old from SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA. when a friend asked them what they thought of the manor they said,  ❝ MIGHT AS FUCKIN’ WELL, RIGHT? GONNA HATE MY LIFE EITHER WAY, MIGHT AS WELL DO IT WITH SOME SCENERY. ❞ they claim FUNNY GAMES is their favorite scary movie, and if they were to die in a horror film they would TAUNT THE KILLER AND GET WHACKED FOR IT. their fears include DRIVING A CAR, WRITHING SNAKES and PUPPETS, and they don’t know we know, but… HE’S PAID OFF MULTIPLE WOMEN WHO HAVE HAD HIS CHILDREN. hope they enjoy their stay.  ‹  MUSE A from HOLLYWOOD’S BLEEDING penned by, Z, 25+, CST.  ›

- - - - - - - BASICS.

Name: Elliot Rian Gallagher. Pronouns: He, him. Nicknames: n/a Age: Twenty-six. Birthdate: April 18th. Zodiac: Aries sun, taurus moon, gemini rising. Ethnicity: white, his father's grandparents were second generation irish and his mother always stated that her parents came from Sandusky, and didn't know more than that. Nationality: American. Birthplace: Santa Monica, CA Gender: Cis Male. Sexual Orientation: Bisexual.

- - - - - - - BACKGROUND.

Parents: Craig Robert Gallagher; 58 years old, alive. Teresa Dawn Shwitzer-Gallagher ; 52 years old, alive Siblings: 2 older siblings, a boy and a girl, and two younger sisters. Spouse: n/a. Children: 3 by different mothers, whom he sends monthly allowances to. He makes it his business not to know any more. Current Job: out of work musician. Dream Career: to be back on top of his game, winning grammies like he used to. Schooling: Attended Crossroads in Santa Monica on and off, eventually graduated with lots of monetary assistance. Income: Receives pay from royalties from the band he was in as a teenager that kicked him out.

- - - - - - - PHYSICAL.

Height: 5'8". Weight: 160 lb. Eye Color: Blue. Hair Color: Dark brown. Hair Length: Fairly short. Hair Type: On the thinner side, with some wave. Body Type: Fairly skinny, with small hips and waist. A little thicker around the midsection with his short stint of sobriety. Clothing Size: Medium to large. Shoe Size: Size 11 Complexion: Very pale, freckles fairly easy, burns very easy. Scars: scars and calluses on his hands, a puckered scar on his temple half hidden by his hair, and a scar on his right hip from a bad car accident, his knees are assessed as much older than himself because of how poorly he treats them combined with genetics, and a long scar on the left side of his back.

- - - - - - - PERSONALITY.

Positive Traits: adventurous, charming, direct, passionate, sociable, competitive, creative, lively, versatile. Negative Traits: volatile, extravagant, defensive, envious, juvenile, wasteful, unreliable, vulgar, pessimistic. Mental Condition: Currently drinking again and using cocaine along with a few prescription pills after attempting out-patient rehab and tapering down his drinking, which he's been addicted to since age fourteen. No officially assessed disorders or conditions besides his alcoholism. Struggles with intimacy while sober. Emotional Condition: Fragile, filled with guilt and self loathing after relapse. Sees trust as more important than love and is very guarded with what he considers his innermost self. Likes: All black outfits, sunglasses, a tall glass of boulevard when he's drinking to taste it, people that make him laugh out loud, old school SNL, the fine tuning of behind the camera work, treating the people he cares about to nice things, arguing about oscars prospects for any given film, penny slot machines, jokes that make people groan loudly. Dislikes: lazy jokes about addiction, late night talk shows, people who look at him and see his misdeeds and not who he is as a person, "lizard people" conspiracy theories, elevator music, plastic covers on mattresses, the concept of an all seeing, all knowing god, TMZ, the smell of industrial cleaner. Strengths: intelligent, ambitious, sincere, passionate, generous, philosophical. Weaknesses: reckless, impatient, cowardly, detached, foolhardy, irresponsible. Fears/phobias: sobriety, letting someone see every single part of him, allowing himself to be vulnerable when sober, having hallucinations, driving a car. Hobbies: little to none as his primary hobby has always been drinking, mostly reading and watching movies. Quirks: fiddling with his glasses, biting the inside of his cheek, humming any song that comes through his mind out loud when he's distracted or concentrating hard on something.

- - - - - - - HISTORY.

!!! possible triggers in the following biography: drug use, alcohol abuse and alcoholism, driving while intoxicated, car accidents, parental neglect of children !!! You are two and a half when you land your first commercial. Your younger sisters managed their first roles before you, but it was a little easier for them as they were infant twins; far more in demand than just a tiny toddler boy. This is how your family eats and keeps themselves in an apartment in Santa Monica that's meant to house three when your family eventually grows to hold seven in total. A lot of mouths to feed. Thankfully you don't remember a lot of this, as the small time work you and your siblings do is enough to keep your family afloat. You make your way into middle school; pissed and stand offish and looking like a cherub; which insures that no one takes you seriously. The friends you make, you hold tightly to, and you kick around in your best friend Boston’s basement, just fooling around on his parents drum kit, their guitars that aren’t actually supposed to be touched. It’s all just for fun, the band and the EP you slap together; just trying to impress each other, until one of Bos’ parents finds someone who wants to sign the band. Everyone tells you over and over again, that this is the deal of a life time. That this will make sure you work in Hollywood for the rest of your life. This is both true, and untrue. The EP is an unmitigated success, and every review has something to say about you, the kid on bass with backup vocals who’s face looks barely legal but plays like he’s planning a murder. Almost everyone remarks on how much older than your few years you seem. Which at first makes you feel special, important. Makes you seek out big words to use when you're sitting on the couch as a guest. The audience really loves that. Of course, this also spawns those times when you end up at wrap parties and after parties, your mother schmoozing whatever producers and execs she can find, your father nowhere to be found, and a sea of adults getting high and wasted around you. None of the vices of Hollywood have ever been all that strange to you, though. Your parents have always had a very blase approach to the innocence of childhood, and didn't much care to shield you from anything. It’s still all fun and games, really. The five of you have too much fun, and everyone wants to treat you to everything, so. Somehow the option you end up choosing most often is the bottle in your hand. The bottles that are so readily available, everywhere, that get pressed into your hands and put into the end of the night goodie bags your mother always takes three of. You think that waking up in an unfamiliar bed every single night of a week is something the rest of your bandmates are doing. It’s all a laugh, we all drink and we all smoke and it’s kid shit, right Boston? You learn that it very much is just a ‘you’ thing when you come to rehearsal (late, as usual) one Thursday afternoon and they’re all somberly waiting for you, hands in their lap and silent. You are being released from your contract with Cthulhu Rising...but the band has elected to move on and create their debut album. Unfortunately at this point you are eighteen and very, very deeply entrenched in alcoholism. The press has been playing you as a party boy who enjoys simple teenage excess for a very long time, but it's starting to wear thin. TMZ is growing a lot less glowing in their articles. You try not to pay attention even as you get yourself thrown out of clubs and tossed into drunk tanks and bailed back out again by whichever assistant your mother has hired this week. As long as you can find a way to make music, you can keep breathing. But with your growing notoriety, offers start to dry up. Those late night shows that loved your precociousness take pot shots at you in their opening monologues. Kimmel's pre-taped Lonely Island style sketch about 'you' endorsing a brand of gin in the style of I Love Lucy gets over a million views on youtube. All of Hollywood, and by extension all the world is laughing at you. It get a little less funny when you ram your matte black Lamborghini Aventador into the median taking the exit for Interstate 10, pinball off of it and into the car in the lane next to you, back into the median hard enough to flip your car into a roll, tumbling side over side across the lanes into the ditch. Your blood test results at the hospital show your blood alcohol content was nearly triple the legal limit. The accident doesn't kill you, though it's a close thing. You're convinced the recovery is worse. The total at the end adds up to a fractured pelvis, six broken ribs, safety glass embedded in your left temple, lacerations all over your arms and face, bleeding in your lungs and swelling in the brain that leaves you in a coma for the better part of two weeks. The most pathetic part of it all? All of that, the things you don't remember from that day coupled with the bursts and flashes of what you do remember, the year and a half you spend in recovery still isn't enough to make you put the bottle down forever. And doesn't that just make you fucking hate yourself?