#i have not drawn him properly in a hot minute hello

[luriluth]

heehee meursault

[uncookedfeeler]

Citrus II🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 7k, smut, incest, daddy kink,

Part 1

Five past eight in the morning, you arrive in front of your company, after having crossed a few blocks in the capital, at the automatic barrier, you wave to the guards to say hello and make your way to the underground car park, of course you have reserved your own space, not far from the lift, the privilege of having an important place in the company, you say to yourself; once the car has stopped, your bag in hand, you walk at a brisk pace to the lift and press the button for your floor.

Your impatience and shame are growing, you're late, which is far from your usual routine, especially when your president is probably waiting for you in your office. The reason for your lateness is even more shameful, but you're determined to put these thoughts aside during the working day.

Once you are on your floor, you pass through a second glass door, which you open with your badge. In the corner is the office of your secretary, who stands up to greet you and to warn you that the CEO is already in your office, just as you had expected.

"Hello Mrs Kang, and thank you, how long has he been here?"

"Not long, he arrived 5 minutes ago, he seems to be smiling, I think you'll be fine," she replies with a nervous smile, "would you like me to make some coffees and bring them to you?"

"No need, I'll do it myself, otherwise nothing else for the rest of the day? "

"There's a lot of paperwork to do today after the president leaves, your meetings don't start until this afternoon". You give her a thumbs up before putting your hands on the latch of your door. 

Your office was a modern space filled with clean lines and muted tones. A large executive desk dominated the room; behind it, tall windows filtered soft daylight through half-drawn blinds, while recessed lights softly illuminated the dark wood cabinets lining the back wall. In the corner, a pair of white armchairs and a sofa were accented by a single red cushion.

Across from you is your chairman, a middle-aged man with short grey hair and a warm smile. His face has visible wrinkles, particularly around the eyes, suggesting a friendly mood. He is wearing a formal dark suit and tie.

“I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr Ahn,” you say, bowing 90° to him.

"Ha ha, hello director, there's no need to be so formal, just get up and sit down,”he says, pointing with both hands to the seat in front of him. 

“Thank you, would you like a coffee while I'm up?”

“A short one then, my wife says I drink too much.”

You walk over to your desk and behind your chair is a piece of furniture that runs the full height of the wall, on top of which are various decorations, including your personal coffee machine.

“They all say that, but a good machine needs its fuel to work properly, doesn't it?”

“Absolutely.”

A few minutes pass as you place your respective coffees on the table between you, warning him that they are still very hot.

“I heard about the new contracts with JYP, good work Director Shin, I imagine it must have taken a lot of negotiation, they're notoriously difficult to do business with.”

“You could say that, it's not the first time they've worked with a cosmetics company like us, and it seems that their previous partnerships haven't been very successful, but with the work of the whole team, I think we've convinced them to count on us.”

“We still don't know the names of the models who will be wearing our products? if they match our latest collections well, I think it would be a great boost to our sales.”

“No information on that, the TWICE girls would be perfect, they embody the mid-twenties woman and seem to have finally lost their all-cute and pink ribbon image.”

As you finish your sentence, you see the chairman smiling after taking a sip of his coffee.

"Really good coffee, and why not ITZY, I'm sure they could certainly manage it too", the President smiles obviously as he mentions the group to which your daughter belongs.

"Yes, I'm sure", you reply with a touch of humour, the President knows very well who your daughter is and the joke shows how close you are to him.

"By the way, how is your daughter, she's appearing all over the country, she really seems to be riding on her popularity, you must be very proud of her".

"Sure, I try to keep up with her, although it's not as easy as it sounds, I imagine she'd be surprised to model for our company, I doubt she knows where I work or my position," you say with regret in your voice.

"Raising a daughter is not easy, I'll give you that, my older daughter... "Before he can finish, your phone rings to tell you that you've received a message with an attachment.

"When we were talking about the wolf, she sent me a message, sorry, go on, sir," you say, trying to get the conversation going again.

"Take your time, it's important to maintain a relationship with your children, especially when they've left home," he replies, leaning back on the sofa to take a step back.

After unlocking your phone, you click on the notification to open Yuna's message, which contains a link to a video and the message "how to grow my lemons", the link takes you to the streaming site Yuna uses and a replay starts :

"I've talked about this before, but the other day I took two lemons home to my parents that I've been growing for a long time, I'm not very good at it, so I asked my dad for help, he worked hard on them yesterday, you should have seen him, he played with them first and then he watered them generously, I think he's learning as much as I am, so I looked up on the internet how to grow them properly:

- First you need to stir the soil well with your fingers or a tool, then you need to push the seeds in deeply until they reach the end, then you need to water the soil regularly with love to increase the chances of getting a big lemon.

My two lemons have already grown well, so I'm wondering if I shouldn't put in a new seed to make a third, much bigger than the others," she said as she finished her explanation, stroking her stomach several times each time the word seed was mentioned.

Your promise to keep your impure thoughts out of your workplace, but Yuna's provocation, so innocent at first, is dangerously immoral and exciting in the right context.

"Your daughter seems to have found a passion for gardening, which is rare for young people who have only known the capital and its huge buildings," the President replies in an amused tone. 

"However, I wonder if young women have an attraction for fruity things, it brings a sweet and innocent side while retaining the exotic taste of a sweet and strong flavour, should we explore this avenue for our products?" he asked, he's the President after all, so business comes first for him. 

"It's hard to say, I know she had a shoot with different fruits as a concept, she doesn't quite fit the image of a young teenager, but an entry-level range for young girls with products that are easy to apply and discreet or even fragrant could be a target".

Another message appears on your screen with only the text ‘Now you know how to do it 💦🍋’.

The shock is quite brutal, you would never have imagined that your daughter would be so direct with you on this subject, after all you only really resumed your father-daughter relationship yesterday, the difference in personality between the nice, almost innocent girl you had yesterday and this morning and now, where she doesn't hesitate to tease you in public or by text message, a part of you hopes that she is just doing it for fun and not to satisfy you for fear of being abandoned again.

At no point do you want to force her down a path that won't make her happy, you've already thrown away your morals for her, now her happiness is your only concern, her wishes are your orders and pleasing your princess remains your goal in life.

You thank her for the guide and send her a sticker of a cat blowing kisses, followed by an 'I love you'. You put your phone back in your pocket to resume your conversation with your CEO as the clock ticks.

.

"I think we're done, I've really enjoyed this chat, I knew I could count on you to come up with new ideas, would you like to join the monthly review of their project, let's bring them the seed of your future fruity project," as the President stands up and walks towards the door.

"Sure, I'm following you"

.

.

.

The meeting has seemed endless, the chair and the others have taken it in turns to stimulate the discussion with their ideas, and what was supposed to be a simple project review has turned into a kick-off meeting for your project. It's past lunchtime and you've just returned to your office, completely drained of energy and with an appetite that's starting to grow. However, your position in the company means that with a simple phone call you can have a member of the kitchen staff come to your floor with your food.

"Knock, knock" 

"You can come in"

"Morning, Director Shin, here's your lunch," says an athletic-looking young man as he places it on your desk.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, I've had a busy morning and my legs need a rest," you say in a moment of weakness.

"No, no, no problem, sir, I'll come back for the tray later, enjoy your meal". The young man leaves your office in a hurry.

As you pounced on your meal like a hungry hyena, this break being one of the rare moments when you let your invasive curiosity take over, you grabbed the mouse of your computer to open the search browser and typed in the name of your company as well as your first name, you had this strong feeling that you knew what was being said about you or your company, public opinion is important and you were also worried about letting your bad reputation tarnish that of your daughter in case of problems at work.

And although you didn't show her much, it was also your ritual to follow your daughter's career. All these years you have been following her journey as an adult in the industry, and it fills you with pride that today your daughter's name still appears at the top of the search rankings.

Her latest Instagram post seems to have set the internet on fire, as you click on the top trending link to see a series of photos of her in the bathroom of your house, her hair flaming red, her make-up perfectly applied to her face and her brown eyes piercing through the mirror. She's wearing a lovely black and white tank top and I'm sure you'll agree that she looks absolutely fucking gorgeous in these photos, the comments are flooding in with praise for her look, despite the occasional haters, but nothing new.

You quickly take out your phone to leave a message for your princess: 

"I've just seen your photos, you're as beautiful as ever," while attaching a photo of the article you took with your phone. Once you've sent the message, you go back to your meal and your thoughts take over, you realise that this kind of little intention would have started from the beginning of her career, the simple fact of exchanging with your child and the feeling that comes from it soothes your heart and too bad if you become a clingy dad, you're going to tell her every day.

You're suddenly brought back to reality when your phone displays a notification saying that she's replied to you with a simple :

"Hihi thank you 😛, look at my little present", while a second message appears with a still blurred image, followed by a third in the conversation, Yuna had sent it as sensitive content, so you have to click on it to view it, and you're far from imagining what's revealed before your eyes: the last message served as a description with the words:  

"it was just after the shower when i was getting ready to go to the company, my little lemons have turned into cherries, all i need now is your big seed 🍒" the photo is taken from a higher angle where your daughter lifts her top to reveal her small breasts and the many hickey marks still present on her body, Her left breast and nipple are well marked by your mouth, not forgetting that she's not wearing anything, and you can see her little bush underneath, with a comment at the bottom: "To 🍼 my 🧔🏻, He must 🍼 my 😻 first".

At that moment, your cock springs to attention in a flash, it shoots up through your trousers and slams against your belly, any man knows that pain and it's far from pleasant, you loosen your belt to give your raging member a little slack, this little minx knew what to do to excite someone and the hours were going to be long from now on.

The rest of the day goes by slowly, you don't dare take out your phone for fear of getting into an embarrassing situation, you still feel some vibrations in the afternoon, but like a good professional you don't even look, the hours go by until the beginning of the evening, you leave your office and go to the underground car park, you make the effort to look at your phone and all you get are trivial messages, You're a little disappointed because you were secretly hoping for more messages from Yuna, halfway there you find yourself stuck in traffic on the road and you decide to call Yuna to find out how her day went, she answers almost immediately but doesn't answer your question, but you can hear the girls chatting as if she had picked up the phone and put it on a table.

You wonder what kind of phone she uses to get such good quality, the girls' voices are easily recognisable and the sound is as if you were in the room with them.

Yeji: "Ugh, yesterday's shoot was so chaotic! I swear we almost lost our minds trying to get the perfect angle".

Lia: "I know, right? I thought we were going to end up on a blooper reels. Remember when we all turned the wrong way during that one scene?

Ryujin: "Yeah, and Yuna was the only one who actually turned the right way! I guess she has an 'inner compass' or something..."

Yuna: "Hey! I just knew what to do! Plus you stole my concept, remember!"

Yeji: "I mean, you didn't mind talking about it online, you even mentioned your dad again, you're such a daddy girl after all"

Yuna: "Not you too! Can we please not talk about my 'daddy issues' again?"

Chaeryeong: "We can't help it! It's just so weird how you don't even look at all the sexy boys around us, I wonder what you do with all those pictures of him you snatch from the internet".

Lia: “'Even though we know what she's doing, she's acting cold towards him, but in the end it makes you hot, doesn't it? you should at least try dating someone, we've all done it so far and it's like, we're not asking you to sleep with them, just get some dating experience”

Chaeryeong: “Easy Lia-unnie, you're the one taking selfies with your exes' dicks in your mouth aren't you? they never fucked you anyway so keep your advice to yourself”

Chaeryeong:“Yuna, listen, we're not forcing you to do anything, but try to use your youth to meet people, it's weird to see you alone at home all the time.”

Yuna: “Unnie, that's not the problem, I'm just afraid of being rejected and I don't know how to tell him how I feel about him, we haven't been very close since mum left”.

Ryujin: “He's your dad Yuna, of course you love him in your own way, let's just say, just tell him and you'll be free of this burden, then we can go and pick up some hot guys backstage”.

Yeji: “I don't think she likes you getting fucked in the toilets when the newbies show up, same goes for you Chaeryoung, no one's putting any pressure on Yuna, right?”

Lia: “Easy for you to say when you're being fucked by your childhood sweetheart, we're not so lucky to have someone who loves us for something other than our bodies”.

Yuna: "It hurts, doesn't it? Aren't you afraid of getting pregnant?"

Ryujin: "'Are you kidding? Wait, you've never...? not even with the toys you hide in the box under your bed?"

Yuna: ”'OF COURSE NOT".

Yeji: "Stop laughing you bitches, Yuna this ain't that serious, yes it can hurt, you have to be prepared downstairs and remember we take all the pills the company gives us and don't forget we always use condoms, DON'T GIRLS?"

Ryujin: "Don't give us shit about it, they shove it up my arse anyway, you think I'm going to let those sons of bitches touch my pussy? a good load on the face, that's what it's all about'."

Lia: "Same thing, they can fill my arse but my pussy is off limits, I love to smash their cocks and make them scream in pain when they try to pull out'."

Chaeryeong: "Fucking listen to these bitches, apart from sucking cocks when I want to, I only fuck other girls, no risk on my side."

Yeji: "See, we're all careful, protect yourself well and don't forget your pills, they help with your periods too'."

Yuna: “I'm out of pills and I don't have a condom, but it's not like I need one, is it?!!, I'm going home tonight, don't wait for me”.

Ryujin: “Don't take it like that baby, I can give you some if you want”.

Yeji: “Yuna, come back!!! “.

You hear the loud thud of a door slamming and limbs flailing as Yuna leaves.

Yeji: “ 'Well done girls, that was clearly a good time to bring her down and make fun of her and her problems”

Lia: "Sorry unnie, we didn't think she'd take it like that, I'll go and get her'.”

Ryujin: “Stay here, you're making it worse.”

Lia: “Bloody hell, how can someone like that be so ignorant of her own sexuality, do you think she likes girls instead?”

Chaeryeong: “She's got a crush on her dad, are you stupid or what, we don't say anything to avoid the subject, she's just wanted to fuck her dad for a long time, she's got photos of him on her phone, on her wallpaper, a photo of him under her pillow, the poor thing is in desperate need of fatherly love”

Yeji: “ I don't know what happened last night, but since then she's been really nervous about it, let's leave her alone, otherwise she'll go crazy and we don't know what she'll do”.

Yeji: "We'll see about that later, it's almost time. Get ready and I'll go to her, you three go with the managers. We'll go back to the company, Chaery, get her bag and phone. She left it on the table."

Calm returned to the room and before you lost the connection to your daughter's phone, you heard

"Looks like you've got work to do Daddy Shin, sorry for the trouble" and she hangs up.

This is a lot to take in, and apart from the sexual debates between the 4 girls, which did not leave you without a reaction, the hardest thing is still Yuna's problems, which confirm your fears about her feelings, your daughter is not the provocative woman she pretends to be in the message, she is a young woman who still has a lot to learn about her own love and carnal feelings, knowing that your little girl is 'pure and innocent' would make any father smile, but on the other hand, what is the harm in learning about her sexuality? The trauma that has held her back, and for which you are probably responsible, is preventing her from moving forward in her life as a woman.

You'd been thinking all day about how to punish your daughter for her insolence, but the person you'd been talking to didn't exist. With Yuna's true feelings in mind, the next logical step seemed to be to wait for her at home and assume your role as father, as a princess deserves.

When you get home, you look at the clock and realise that she won't be home for another hour or two. That gives you plenty of time to tidy up, do your laundry and take a shower. You've picked up some bad habits living alone, but now that you're sharing your home with someone else, it's time to get the ball rolling again and restore the beauty of your property.

Time flies and you've barely had time to get out of the shower and into your new clothes when you hear the door latch click. You quickly step in front of it to see a redhead running towards you, dropping her bag in the doorway and giving you a big hug.

"Welcome home, darling," you say, stroking her head as you feel her face sink into your chest and a wet feeling hit your chest.

"I'm sorry daddy, I..."

"SHhh, it's all right, I'm here."

The situation is very different from yesterday, Yuna's shell seems to have burst the moment she saw you, you feel the warmth of her body against yours as her arms wrap around you, you say nothing, leaving one of your hands on her head and the other on her back.

"Dad, I... the message... it's not .... I wan...."

"Just breathe, I'm not angry, you know,"

"I just wanted to make you happy, I wanted to show you I'm a big girl, I'm so embarrassed now"

"You don't have to make me happy, it's my job to make YOU happy, and don't bother trying to act big, you're my little princess, that's all".

Just as she seems to have calmed down, you take her face in your hands to wipe away the last of her tears before placing a loving kiss on her forehead, "I love you," you say in a low voice as if to lull her to sleep, "I will never let you down, my only daughter.

Yuna is lulled by your words and you feel the weight of her body fall on your arms, "just rest on the sofa, I'll bring you a snack, you must be tired from your day's work", she accepts without flinching as you prepare something to eat while you wait for dinner, your daughter sits on the sofa, her head resting on a pillow, looking at you, when your eyes meet you exchange a smile without saying a word.

The evening passes smoothly, while your daughter rests and eats, you finally talk about your respective days, leaving your erotic exchanges out of the conversation, she finally gets to know your job, while you finally know what happens off camera, the night is felt and you suggest she take a shower while you prepare dinner, again she accepts without concern.

"Would you like to join me?" she asks shyly.

"Yuna, your legs are shaking, you don't have to push anything, I'm not going anywhere," you reply to her completely unexpected request.

She doesn't even answer and locks herself in the bathroom, slamming the door. You really can't understand what's going on in her head, but there's no time to lose, so you start preparing dinner.

Like last night, the meal is spent in church-like silence, each of us with our own thoughts. Yuna is completely withdrawn and doesn't even look at you, which is quite an awkward situation for you as she seems so close and then suddenly so far away.

You try to break this silence in the desert and ask her if she wants to watch a film, she takes a while to answer and then accepts, saying that she has to change first so that you can start getting everything ready while you wait for her, it's a good start and the film could give you a new topic of conversation to revive the dialogue between the two of you.

While she's still in her room, you call out to her to ask what film she's interested in. 

"Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken Please, Giselle-unnie told me it's good". 

You hear through the house, you recognise your daughter, who has always loved cartoons, once you've found them on Netflix, you adjust the brightness of the lights for a subdued effect, you've prepared a blanket and something to eat.

The minutes tick by and you wonder what Yuna is doing, you don't see much, it takes so long to get into pyjamas, but you tell yourself she's probably on her phone at the same time, which often doesn't help.

You hear her footsteps behind you and when she appears behind you, you see her wearing a simple pink t-shirt, you can easily guess that she's not wearing anything underneath as it hugs her breasts.

Suddenly she's straddling you, saying, "Forget the film, I want you, Daddy," as she pushes her body into yours and lies on top of you in a lotus position.

"Yuna, please, I," you don't finish your sentence as she slaps your face. 

"STOPPP REJECTING MEEEEEEEEEE' she screams at the top of her lungs as she bursts into tears over you, 'WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS, I....I....I JUST WANT YOU TO LOVE ME' WH... WHY ARE YOU HURTING ME LIKE THIS?

Your daughter lashes out at you in shock at what's happening in front of you, you grab her arms and she becomes helpless under the difference in strength between the two of you. 

"Yun..." 

"I just want you..." she says, her face completely ravaged by tears, the face of someone who is deeply hurt and can't take it anymore.

Something breaks inside you, all this time you've assumed she would throw herself at you, just to be like the others, just to receive the love you would have given her anyway, you've hurt her again and again until you made the same mistake you made with your wife.

Your daughter loves you more than anything and you are too blind to see that she doesn't know how else to show it, but this time you will make it right and give yourself to her.

Without further ado, you threw your lips over hers, releasing her wrists from your grip and sliding your hands from her lower abdomen to her breasts hidden under her t-shirt.

"No bra, you little rascal?"

Instinctively she puts her hands on your shoulders and fights your tongue with hers, you attack her nipples with your hand and they are already hard, the attack on her breasts causes Yuna to moan which is absorbed by your kiss, you go down her neck to place your marks while she can finally listen to her pleasure.

"Daddy, your cock, give it to me" she says as she plunges her hand into your shorts and meets your cock through the underpants, you lift her up with the strength of your legs and come to remove your underwear in one go, your cock is now naked between your daughter's thighs and she puts her hands on it.

"Put some saliva before baby," she listens to you religiously, but instead comes and gets the saliva overflowing from her pussy and applies it to your cock.

"Let me use my juices before you use yours," she says as she works your cock up and down, your shaft growing under Yuna's movements and the pleasure is truly enjoyable.

One of your hands digs into her soaking wet panties and you massage her slit with your fingers, your moaning cries joining in as you pleasure each other.

Quickly she gets up from the sofa to kneel in front of you and she begins to lick your cock with delicacy, her tongue starts at the glans and she places kisses on it, then her tongue and lips come together so that she tries to suck your sperm, her lips then go gently down the length of your cock and your cock goes slowly down her throat.

"Yuna, that's good, you're doing great," you say as you put both hands on her head to guide her, you watch as your cock disappears into her mouth as the sensations of her work send shivers down your back, from time to time she pulls out to spit on your shaft before sliding back in,

Yuna learns as she goes and her technique is perfected with each dive, after a while your breaking point comes and you refuse to finish here so you help her pull out and try to save your orgasm for later, her mouth overflowing with saliva and she looks at you with appetite.

"Sorry baby but it's my time to eat you now" you tell her as you take her in your arms and go into your bedroom where you lay her on her back on the edge of the bed, without further ado she attacks her pussy with your mouth and she presses her thighs against your head, Your tongue immediately attacks her slit, which rushes to secrete its juices, which you suck up as you go, her clit is quickly attacked by one of your hands, which takes great care to titillate the little bean, with delicacy you move up and down her slit, from time to time penetrating her entrance with your tongue to prepare the work,

The poor red girl cries out with pleasure as she experiences being devoured by her lover for the first time, she clings to your hair which she pulls when the pleasure is too great, on your side you shift into second gear and penetrate your daughter's pussy with two fingers, you feel like you're piercing a flan because the inside is so soft.

“Daddy don't stop, it's coming” your daughter cries out as she feels your third finger deep inside her, your mouth has turned into a wet wiping system as her pussy floods your mouth, you keep up the rhythm until you feel your daughter leave and in a flash her body goes rigid and her pelvis convulses under the power of the orgasm.

You lift your head and climb onto the bed to kiss your princess with a little “I love you” in her ears, 

"Daddy, I want you,” she says, stretching out her arms to ask you to come inside her, “it's time to put that seed inside me,” as she spreads her pussy in front of you.

Worried, you reach over to your bedside table for a condom, but Yuna stops you.

“It's ok daddy, I'm on the pill and it's a safe day, you can pour everything into my secret garden", Yuna's naughty language excites you immensely and your cock hurts so you give in and come to lie on her entrance and gently tap your cock to soak it in her juices, 

You sink gently and anxiously into your own daughter, resting your elbows on the mattress so that you can kiss her as you move inside her, every inch of her is painful and she lets you feel it as she scratches your back with her fingernails, you kiss her tenderly as your hips move up to touch her pussy, 

Your cock feels the tightness of her vagina as well as the warmth and moisture from your excellent preparation work, the passage through her pussy is made without too much effort and you slide deep inside her like butter, on the other side Yuna seems to take your big cock like a champion and despite the pain she has already wrapped her legs around your waist.

You feel her warm, rapid breathing on your face as you look into her eyes, just inches apart.

"Daddy, I can feel you inside me, my little pussy just ate your big dick."

"Are you alright baby, I won't move until you're ready".

"I want to sit like on the sofa".

You obeyed her orders and gently lifted her up without pulling back to let her sit on you, you put yourself on her buttocks and she was now resting all her weight on you, the change of position made your cock dig even deeper inside her and she felt it well. 

"Don't move, I want to stay connected to you like this," as she strokes her stomach trying to feel your cock, "keep eating my tits, please.

Just as your cock seems to have bottomed out, you turn your attention to her pair of little red lemons, You really loved her tits, they are not as big as some but in your eyes they are perfect, the texture of them, the feel of them in your hands and the way Yuna reacts every time you nibble on her nipples.

You decide to kiss your daughter and whisper "Shall we?" to which she only nods, you begin to rock your hips as your cock slowly emerges from her pussy and then slowly returns, never fully exiting, you carve your daughter's walls with your cock and Yuna moans with pleasure at the work of your rod.

“♥Hmm....♥Ah....♥Hmm, ah....♥ Daddy, your cock is turning me inside out, every time you push in it feels weird down there, it's a bit painful but also extremely pleasurable, I can feel your big cock pushing my sides apart and knocking on my garden gate, keep it up, I want to feel your cock ravaging me".

You pick up the pace at your partner's request, your cock seems to have done its job well as you are able to withdraw completely before impaling her again with no problem, under the force of your hips Yuna lays her head on your neck and sucks you like a baby, you let go of her breasts to lock your hold on her by circling her waist with your arms, once firmly in place you pound her with all your strength. 

“♥Ah....”

“♥Ah.... DADDY”

“♥Ah....

♥Ah.... DA”

For long minutes, you hold her close as your cock slams violently into her pussy. The pleasure comes from the fact that Yuna has her head back, unable to form a sentence. Pleasure has taken over her body. You feel your orgasm building slowly. While your daughter is already on the verge of hers, you feel her legs squeeze you hard as she explodes on your cock and her fluids flow down it. Yet you don't stop your thrusts.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Stop it"' At her command you stop and discover your daughter's face completely undressed, her hair sticking to her sweaty face and you push aside the lips that hide her eyes to kiss her.

"Let me do it now" she asks as she moves her hips on her own to embrace your sensitive cock, her movements are fast, her pussy devouring you at its own pace and you put your hands on both her buttocks to support her, you give little slaps to her delicate skin and as she fucks herself on her father's cock you feel your orgasm coming and you warn her.

"Yuna, I'm coming"

She gives you the coup de grace when she puts all her weight on her descent and your stiff cock pierces all her pussy until your balls kiss her pussy, inside your cock floods her and for the first time in her life Yuna is at the door of motherhood, her pussy sucks your sperm with efficiency and you withdraw from her.

Yuna is still sitting on your lap, your breaths heavy, your bodies full of sweat and juice, and neither of you can stand the silence as Yuna's cum begins to flow.

"Ah baby, that was amazing. You were amazing!"

"Thanks daddy, do you want some more?"

"I'm sorry darling, I'm not young anymore, my penis is withered."

You can see the disappointment in Yuna's eyes. In your youth, a second round might have been possible, but now your libido is limited to your arousal, and after emptying yourself into her, you no longer feel anything on that level.

"Daddy... Are you going to leave me like this?" says Yuna as she gets down on all fours, points her bottom at you and spreads her pussy with your cum dripping from it.

The sight of your daughter in this position would have turned any man on. You feel like it, but your desire is gone for the moment. You see your daughter wiggling her bottom, begging you to fuck her, and you're powerless to stop her.

"Dad, I'm sorry... I lied, I haven't taken the pill yet, I want a second shot or I won't take it. The longer you wait the more your seeds will fertilise my garden, look how hungry my pussy is, come and make sure you flood my pussy next to save my career."

You're at a loss for words, whether to believe her or not, but one thing's for sure, she knows how to work you because your cock has come back to life and you're going to take malicious pleasure in making her regret having put that doubt in your head.

You grab her hips and penetrate her little pussy, slamming your balls against her arse, 

The gentleness of before has been transformed into a wild fuck where only pleasure is king. Your hands are firmly planted on her hips as you pound her with your pelvis, creating waves on her buttocks that will soon feel the onslaught of your hands.

"Daddy, your cock is stirring my insides, your sperm is mixing in my pussy, push hard".

Your daughter is now nothing more than a vulgar hole in your assaults, the seed of doubt she has planted in your mind has completely removed your sanity. If she is indeed unprotected, your first sperm must have done its work in spite of you. When in doubt, you prefer to flood her a second time and make sure she takes her medicine.

Go ahead daddy, make me your property, claim my pussy as your own personal garden, I'll take care of all your fruit,' Yuna's provocations rage in your mind. So you explode into your offspring's pussy again, you stand for a few seconds spasming against your daughter's ass as she collapses onto the bed, then you do the same, completely exhausted.

'Was that true about the pill, baby?

'Yes...' she says shyly. Now that all her libido has left her body, she presses you against her breasts and whispers in your ear: "It's too early to taste my juice, you'll have to give me some more water.

Your daughter is soon off to dreamland, still naked, and the bed is soaked with the fluids of your lovemaking. You make sure you look as tired as possible before you too collapse.

.

.

You wake up to a pleasant smell, but also to a body in pain. The bedroom gym session hasn't done your body any good, but your mind is at peace. As you leave your room, you see Yuna in an apron preparing breakfast. Beside her is a pack of contraceptive pills, two of which are already empty. When she sees you, she says:

"Good morning, Dad, you're going to need your strength, remember, you have to stir the soil first before you put your seed in. We're going to have to spend some time on this before you can make my pussy fertile for you."

Later, as you're driving to work, you see an important email from your CEO and a message from Yuna; you'd like to think that the email is more important, but that would be lying to yourself,

The text message is just a selfie of your daughter still in bed next to you with the message 'I've got a body full of marks, the girls are going to realise what we've done, not to mention I've still got your sperm in me 🤭"

Classic Yuna, but you'll have to get used to it. You've made a pact with a demon, but who cares, you're no angel anyway.

As for the email, just looking at the title 'Meeting with JYP & ITZY', it looks like you're finally going to meet one or more members of your daughter's group.

______________________________________________________________

[over-active-imagination]

Family Matters (Fredrick Chilton x reader)

Synopsis: Will and Jack get to see a side of Doctor Chilton no one was aware existed.

A/n: I have not watched Hannibal in a hot minute but my thirst for Raul is strong. We are also just going to pretend our little baby is perfectly fine and NOT in danger.

Warnings: Family stuff, mentions of crimes, tooth-rotting fluff, my bad writing

Y/n sat outside by the pool watching her three-year-old and four-year-old children play around in the water splashing around happily with each other as she rubbed her swelling baby bump. Jasper and Aspen were completely content to battle it out in the shallow end of the pool. It was a nice summer day in Baltimore and Y/n was hoping these activities would wear the children out before their father came home. Sadly it didn't seem to be the case when she hears the family dog Sigmund start barking happily alerting Y/n that someone had just come home.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder she smiles seeing her husband patting the pup affectionately before the children are drawn to his presents.

"Daddy!" Aspen giggles and toddles out of the water as fast as her chubby legs could carry her rushing towards her father's waiting arms even in his full suit from work. Something that caught his company off guard.

"Hello, my darling girl" Fred smiles lifting her into his arms not paying much mind to how dripping wet she was, or the fact his wife had called after Aspen to get a towel.

"Wait...Aspy I want a hug from daddy too" Jasper the four-year-old cried also rushing out to his father who had moved to the pool deck.

"Now now Jasper of course you can have a hug too, no wining" Fredrick teases and sets his daughter down kissing her head before hugging his son. Aspen instantly peered around and noticed her father's two coworkers awkwardly watching the out-of-character display.

"Who are they? Your friend's daddy?" Aspen asks looking up at him with her bright green eyes. "Hi daddy's friends" She says not waiting for an answer causing Y/n to giggle at her daughter shifting to rise from her chair.

"Yes Aspen..now daddy and mommy need to talk can you go swim with Jasper and show him all the cool tricks you learned at lessons?" Fred hums catching her attention and she nods taking her older brother's hand and toddling off to the pool once more.

Now with the children, busy Frederick came to properly say hello to his wife. Seven months pregnant and still trying to come to him.

"Ahahah Mama, you stay right there " He hums moving to her side settling his wife back down and brushing back her hair "I need to speak with Agent Graham and Crawford about some case stuff in my office. I couldn't finish it at work I'm sorry my love"

"Thats alright handsome...oh no Aspen got your suit all wet" Y/n sighs taking in the damage of his expensive suit for work "leave it on the bed and I'll handle it okay" She fusses and he chuckles

"My love they are just clothes and its just water, it will dry on its own" He attempts to sooth her and she lets out a huff

"I know I know, but you are always so proud of your clothes baby. Ill make sure it doesn't winkle" Y/n hums and he relents nodding and leaning down to press a kiss onto her swollen stomach. “Are they staying for dinner” she adds smoothing his hair.

“I’m not sure…will gets a bit antsy when someone else prepares food” Fred hums and y/n nods gently

“Well you better invite them just in case. I won’t have them thinking we’re rude” she says sternly and Fred let’s out a small chuckle.

“Well they-“ Chilton is stopped by a finger to his lips

“Let me change the phrase..I won’t have them thinking I am rude. Now go, I have to get the little goblins bathed and wound down before dinner” she hums and he nods kissing her once more before departing to his office.

While her husband was busy, Y/n let the children play a bit longer before ushering them inside to wash off the chlorine and put on pjs. Turning on a child friendly movie Y/n sits on the couch with Aspen between her knees gently braiding the dark brown locks she inherited from her father while Jasper snuggled siggy on the love seat.

Once finished with her daughter Mrs chilton rose and headed to the kitchen to finish with dinner. She took into account of what her husband said and decided to go for a less meat heavy dish. Opting to make the children there chicken casadillas and a nice creamy Alfredo for the adults. She was just in the middle of cutting up the salad when three pairs of footsteps had her eyes rising to the hall. Fredrick was still speaking to Agent Crawford as they walk down the hall being tailed by a tall man with a mop of unruly curls and black circles under his eyes. She didn’t like how anxious the poor man seemed and bit her lip about to say something when Aspen bounces into the room.

“Daddy daddy look I drew a picture” His little girl giggles lifting the page with scribbles on it. A wide grin broke over his face as he turned his attention to her.

“That is beautiful my love. Look at this boys” he turns and shows his companions. Jack who had children of his own knew how to play along cooing over how magnificent it is while Will looked a bit lost.

“What do you think mister daddy’s friend” aspen urges in a way only she could causing will go clear his throat.

“That’s…definitely a picture” he decided on saying causing Aspy to look a bit exasperated her little nose scrunching up hands falling to her hips in a manner that reminded Y/n to much of Fred.

“That’s not what I asked. I asked if you like it” she says in a stern little voice tapping her foot causing Jack to chuckle and will to tilt his head with a small sigh.

“It could be better” Will says and the room fall silent just as Fred was about to rip him a new one Aspen cuts in.

“You’re probably right. It needs more shading on mommy’s hair” and with that she takes the paper and rushes back to the living room.

“You got lucky there…I was expecting her to start crying or Chilton to rip your head off” Jack muses coming over to Y/n and leaning on the counter.

“Oh not little Aspen. She’s too much like her father to cry infront of a stranger” She hums moving to pull three beers out of the fridge for the men. “Dinner is almost ready if you two would like to stay. I didn’t cook any meat or anything it’s all relatively vegetarian aside from the children’s meal”

Will watching as mrs Chilton rings her hands a bit anxiously. He notices that she wants to make sure he is comfortable which is something most people don’t do. Jack was about to deny the invitation when Graham beats him to it.

“I would like that very much.” He says curtly and takes a swig of beer ignoring how Fredrick and Jack look at him confused.

“Great you boys go sit at the table I’ll wrangle the children” Y/n smiles gently rubbing her hand down her husbands arm and Will watches him instantly relax. It was odd seeing Chilton in such a…domestic state, far from the domineering, obnoxious and annoying doctor he was professionally.

Slowly they make there way to the table, Fred sitting at one end Jack on the other. Just as he was about to sit the two children come skipping to the room and much to Wills dismay sit opposite each other. So either way he would have to be near a kid. It’s not that he didn’t like children…Will always wanted some of his own…it was more that he didn’t know how to talk to a child. Never having much practise and this little Aspen creature was very chatty. So doing some quick deducing he was going to sit next to the boy but a little hand stopped him.

“Mister if you sit here with me Siggy will come sit under your feet. He loooooves this side of the table and I saw you like him” she says cheerfully and Will was shocked at how much she paid attention to his behaviour

“Well I-“

“The only reason he likes that side Aspen is because you drop food on the floor for him” Jasper pipes up and Will watches the girls head twist to glower at her brother

“That is not true. And you can’t prove that it is” Aspen retorts sticking out her tongue. Causing Fredrick to stifle his laughter after a glare from his wife.

“Children. Stop it, you are being rude to our guests. Please will sit wherever you like” Y/n says gently patting his arm “I can move Aspen if you’d like to sit next to Freddie”

“No no..it’s okay” Will says and sits down slowly next to the small girl who was happily swinging her feet looking up at her father. Will caught Fredrick make a silly face causing his little girl to erupt into laughter.

Soon after that dinner was on the table and Y/N finally sat down rubbing her belly gently. Jack and will suddenly felt bad for not offering assistance and Jack went as far as to say it but she waved him off with a cheery smile.

“All I do is sit around while this baby plays soccer in my stomach. I don’t mind standing up and moving” Y/n reassures and they both nod.

They all tuck into there food Fred asking about her day. Playing little tricks on the children as they eat and Aspen talking a mile a minute without any chance of slowing down, where as Jasper sat quietly only speaking to contradict his sister or ask for more juice. Will had a strange sense of calm wash over him as he sat in the Chiltons dinning room, something he hadn’t felt for a long time and suddenly he was jealous of Frederick for being able to come home to this. While he was spinning inside his own head looking at his plate Will was suddenly drawn out of his reprieve by Aspen shrieking.

“Mommy mommy little baby is doing the weird alien thing” she shouts feigning disgust causing Wills attention to be drawn to Mrs Chilton baby bump. Where he saw the perfect outline of a little hand pressing against her dress.

“Yes it appears they are” Y/n sighs seeming less freaked out then Will, Jasper and Aspen as she simply places her own hand over it pushing the little one back. “I’m sorry sometimes I just don’t notice, this little one likes to make sure everyone knows they are there” she laughs.

“Aspen you scream but you used to do that to your mama too” Chilton teases his daughter who makes a face

“Icky. I never want a baby if they do that” Aspen huffs and Will chuckles looking at her.

“Me either” he says softly and she giggles up at him

“But your a boy. Do can’t carry babies like mamas do” she says and Will pauses for a moment then looks down at her again.

“I suppose you’re right. But still, I wouldn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and just see a little baby hand poking out of my partners belly” he teases a bit making a little hand gesture.

Frederick watched the display and chuckles a bit. He had never seen Will warm up to anyone as fast as he was with his family. Perhaps he would talk to his wife about inviting him around more. It may help with the social anxiety he tended to fall into. Shaking his head he hears Jasper let out a little yawn and look up at him.

“Daddy can I go to bed” he asks softly and Fredrick ruffles his hair “of course bud. Take your dishes to the sink and say goodbye to Mr Crawford and Mr Graham”

Jasper nods taking the dish and coming back to say goodnight getting a hug from his mother and waving awkwardly at his fathers friends before heading upstairs to his room. Fred smiles and looks over at his wife who was looking back at him. He gently stands and takes the dishes with the help of Jack leaving Aspen, Will and Y/n at the table.

“Aspen I believe it’s also your bedtime” the Mother hums to her child and Aspen pouts.

“But I don’t want to go to bed. I want to stay awake” she argues and Y/n smiles shaking her head.

“I’m sorry little one but you and I both know you will be cranky in about ten minutes now. Say goodnight to Mr Graham and head up to bed. Daddy or I will be up shortly to tuck you in” The older woman hums and Aspen let’s out a whine before rising to her little feet.

Will expected the girl to be like her brother and wave goodbye before hugging her parents but she surprises him. The little girl moves to him first wrapping her arms around his neck and placing a small kiss on his cheek. Y/N watched Will look confused and suppress a little giggle as Aspen makes her rounds and toddles off to her bedroom.

After a polite cup of coffee and desert Will and Jack both rise saying goodnight and moving to the door. Y/n stands next too Freddie his hand around her hip as they see the agents off. But not before mentioning to Will that he is more than welcome to stop by and see the kids and the dog at home.

As soon as they are gone Frederick sighs slouching a bit. He looked completely worn out which caused his wife to chuckle a bit.

“Fred why don’t you go get ready for bed. I’ll turn the dishwasher on and be up on a moment”

Frederick let’s put a small sigh nodding and disappearing up stairs while he wife finished cleaning up. Slowly she made her way up the stairs smiling when she hears her husbands voice floating through aspens bedroom door. The younger woman pauses leaning on the doorframe listening to him lull the youngest child to sleep with the tale of Cinderella, a story he often said was ridiculous and promoted women to rely on men to rescue them but…he couldn’t say no to his little princess.

If anyone had told Y/n six years ago that she would be standing listening to the arrogant, rude and often cruel hospital administrator reading a bedtime story she would have laughed in their face. Yet, here she was, heart filled with love an admiration for her husband who was squished into a bright pink canopy bed cuddling a little version of himself.

The woman smiled and left the pair to daddy daughter bonding time to check in on Jasper who was out like a light. Snuggled deep into his bright green sheets his mouth hanging open much like his fathers did. Y/n giggled and kisses his head before turning out the light and heading to her own room. Smiling when she found that for once Fred had followed her orders.

Carefully she picked up the expensive designer suit, moving it to lay out on one of the chairs until she could tend to it in the morning. Then heading off to complete her own night time routine. Coming back out of the en suite bathroom Y/n see her husband laying out on his back only in his boxers, his eyes closed hands folded against his chest. A small giggle leaves her lips as she moves closer to him prompting the man to open his eyes sleepily and smile brightly up at his wife.

"Come here my love" He says softly reaching out for her making little grabbing gestures.

"Alright alright Mi Amour I'm coming" She giggles and slowly climbs into the spot next to him resting her head on his chest.

"Sometimes I wonder how I got so Lucky" He mumbles as his wife traces her hand over the pale scar on his stomach. letting out a little giggle looking up at him.

"Mm maybe I am just mentally unstable" Y/n teases and he pinches her hip with a playful chuckle.

"Hey watch it" He teases "thank you for today"

"It was nothing, to be honest it was nice to have someone other then two toddlers to talk to" She giggles "now lets get some sleep"

The pair snuggle deeper into the covers and relax, Frederick falling into a deep sleep feeling happy and safe with the love of his life.

[babyboibucky]

Don’t You Worry (Your Pretty Little Head)

Pairing: Guitarist!Bucky x Reader

Summary: You agree to spend twelve hours with Bucky whom you just met.

Word Count: 9.1k

Warnings: THE LENGTH lmfao, soft smut??? Nothing vulgar and it’s sorta implied

A/N: I am honestly nervous about posting this piece because idk, aside from it being fucking long, I was never satisfied with how this was written lmfao. I literally rewrote this like idk 5 times??? And the fact that I made a mood board for a oneshot lmfao only means I poured my heart out into this shit and I’m really hoping y’all would enjoy this as much as my other works 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your idea of a fun Friday night involved your couch and Netflix playing in the background as you scrolled through your phone with a glass of wine in hand. This was your definition of pure bliss, something that Wanda violently opposed to.

So here you were, seated in the front of a music bar while Wanda’s favorite band played.

“See? This isn’t so bad, right? Better than wallowing in your apartment alone.” She teased as she leaned over to you, needing to amp up the volume of her voice so you can hear her.

“The fact that we can’t even hear each other properly makes wallowing alone sound so much better.” You told her, not even bothering to repeat yourself when she didn’t understand what you said over the loud music playing.

Her favorite band introduced their last song for the night and as they did, you checked your phone for the time. It was barely past ten in the evening and you were already dying to get home. You’ll bid goodbye after this, you promised yourself. Just one last song and you’re out. Before the band could even finish their last song, you’d already decided on what pizza to order and which wine to bring out.

That was until the next band came up on stage to prepare for their performance. You were leaning over Wanda already, about to tell her that you were heading home, when one particular guy caught your eye. Something that Wanda noticed when she saw you gawking at the stage.

“Oh my god. He’s definitely your type.” Wanda said when her eyes landed on the bassist.

He had dirty blonde hair and a clean-shaven face that looked a little too innocent for someone to be in a rock band. Your exact type— one with the boy next door appeal, someone you’d want to bring home to introduce to your parents. Wanda was so sure you were crushing on the bassist but as soon as he followed your line of sight, she almost choked on her own spit.

You weren’t eyeing the bassist, instead, you were completely focused on the lead guitarist. You were so enamored by this guy that you failed to notice Wanda gushing over the fact that you were enamored by someone who was the complete opposite of your type.

It was the lead guitarist who caught your attention. The one with long hair tied into a low, messy man bun, his stray locks framing his perfectly chiseled face. It wasn’t only the hair that made you look at him, it was also his left arm— it was covered entirely with tattoos. And then he started playing the guitar and good god, his fingers were something else.

It was rare for you to have certain thoughts, the kind that would make you sweat in church. And thank fuck for Wanda finally snapping you out of your filthy trance because if she hadn’t, you would’ve seriously drowned in your not so pure thoughts.

“I can’t believe you’re attracted to that guy. This makes me so excited, honestly.” Wanda squealed.

“Huh?” You played dumb of course. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Wanda snorted out loud, “I just witnessed you drool over the guitarist for a good five minutes. Stop denying.” She said.

You rolled your eyes, “Maybe I did. And so what? It’s not like I’m gonna act on it.”

“You have to fuck him.” Wanda casually suggested, making you choke on your drink.

You weren’t a prude but you didn’t like the idea of hooking up with people, most especially strangers. You weren’t going to lie though, it did cross your mind. Obviously, the way his fingers moved on his guitar really threw your brain down the gutter. Sure, you might have wondered what it’d be like to have those fingers on you but again, would you act on it? Hell no.

“It’s just one night. Live a little, come on. And you getting attracted to someone like him? That’s once in a blue moon, all the more you need to bring him home.” Wanda said.

“One night stands don’t really work well for me and you know that. The first time I tried that was also the last time because I ended up getting attached. And how did that end? Terrible. So no, thank you. Never again.” You told Wanda.

Fortunately, Wanda stopped bugging you about fucking the guitarist. It wasn’t really a big deal, it was nothing but a moment of admiration. You were hell-bent on going home anyway, well, maybe after his band finishes their first song. Besides, he wouldn’t notice you so why bother staying?

“Oh my god, he’s looking at you!” Wanda almost screamed, slapping at your arm until you turned to the stage.

And holy fuck. He was really looking at you. Why though? You even looked behind you to make sure it was you he was staring at and when you turned back at him, he smirked and threw a wink at your way.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna head home.” You said, not knowing how to act.

Wanda pulled you back down when you stood up, “Oh no, honey. No one’s going home this early.” She said. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would you?” She quickly added, tipping her head towards the stage.

When you looked up at the guitarist, he was still looking at you as he played. This time, he was actually pouting, as if pleading for you to stay. You quickly avoided his gaze and although it was dimly lit in the bar, you still bowed your head to hide the blush creeping up to your face.

You managed to survive the entire setlist of the band despite the flirty smiles and winks that the guitarist gave you. Wanda was ecstatic about it, it made you wonder if she was actually the one crushing on the guy. As soon as the last song was done, you excused yourself and hurried into the bathroom to compose yourself.

It was the first time that you experienced such attraction towards a guy like him. You always went with the good boys, so why were you so drawn to this guy who looked nothing but trouble? You were in denial, this was totally out of your comfort zone so you shook the thoughts away and promised yourself (again) that you’d head home this time. For real.

“There you are.”

You gasped out loud when you stepped out of the bathroom, quickly colliding against a solid chest when you heard his voice. It was low yet gentle, soft-spoken but sinful.

“I’m sorry?” You sputtered out, bowing down your head to avoid the lead guitarist’s gaze.

“I thought you left already.” He said. “I’m Bucky, by the way.” He introduced, extending his left arm for a handshake.

Your eyes landed on his tattooed arm, despite the ink covering it all up you could actually see his veins.

“And I’m going home.” You quickly shook Bucky’s hand, ignoring the electricity that ran through your veins and brushed past him, eyes scanning the bar for Wanda.

Bucky jogged ahead of you, blocking your way and chuckling to himself. “Don’t I at least get a name?” He asked.

You were internally screaming, but you managed to mention your name just so he would leave you alone. Sure, he was hot and he was actually flirting with you. But your fear of the unknown outweighed your attraction. You weren’t ready to step out of your comfort zone. Yet.

Bucky trailed behind you as you looked for Wanda, cursing to yourself when you couldn’t spot her anywhere. You took out your phone and called her immediately.

“Wanda? Where are you?” You hiss into the phone.

Bucky watched you with amusement and it was making you uncomfortable. He was just staring at you with a grin on his handsome face. And now, you just discovered that Wanda left you.

“What?! But why?! You’re my ride home! Come back and pick me up!” You exclaim into the phone, unable to believe that Wanda just ditched you.

“You can’t— hello? Wanda? Hello?” You groaned in frustration when your friend ended the call.

“I’d love to offer you a ride home but it’s too early, so how ‘bout I just buy you a drink?” Bucky asked, flashing you a charming smile that made your knees weak.

Part of you wanted to give in and just say, fuck it, let Bucky do whatever he wants with you. The reasonable part of your brain though, highly opposed to this and pulled on the alarms. This guy probably just wants to get you into his bed and although it doesn’t sound that bad, you worried more for what could happen afterwards. You weren’t ready for a repeat of the past. You were too emotional, you had too many strings and they get attached way too quickly.

“No, thank you.” You told Bucky and headed outside the bar, deciding to book an Uber instead.

Bucky was persevering though and followed you out, blocking your way into the sidewalk and snatching your phone away.

“Hey, give me my phone back!” You exclaimed.

“The night is young, c’mon. Why are you so aloof anyway?” Bucky asked.

“Because I don’t know you?” You responded.

Bucky chuckled, “Have you ever heard about making friends? I mean, pretty much everyone you meet starts off as a stranger. And it’s not like I’m a serial killer or anything. I’m not gonna rob you but I most certainly won’t give you your phone back until I convince you to stay a while.” He said and god, he was too charming for your own good.

He made a good point about making friends. You couldn’t even remember the last time you made a new one. Bucky could see the gears in your head working as you stared at him, cheeks flushed and lips parted in deep thought.

“So, what do you say? Stay a while? Keep me company. It’ll be fun.” Bucky insisted.

“Why me?” You blurted out.

It wasn’t that you were insecure, but you were way too different from Bucky. You didn’t seem like his type, but then again, he wasn’t your type either. Until the moment you saw him on stage.

“Why not?” Bucky responded as if he couldn’t believe you just asked him that question.

“Do you ask that every time someone flirts with you? Besides, it’s not everyday that someone like you stared at me like that.” He teased.

Fuck, so he noticed you drooling over him. Quick! Think of a way out, you told yourself.

“Someone like me? What did you mean by that?” You asked, sounding offended.

Bucky’s eyes widened and shook his head, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like it’s a bad thing. I mean, you come in here wearing a chiffon blouse and a pencil skirt and expect me not to notice? I’m actually flattered that a girl, no...a woman...was ogling me. Definitely piqued my interest.” He explained.

That was a compliment, right? The sirens in your head grew louder at the way Bucky was easily throwing you compliments. He must be used to flirting his way into women’s panties, huh? 

“I wasn’t ogling you.” You defended even though you were, looking away from his eyes.

“Sure, you weren’t.” Bucky teased. “Loosen up, will ya? When was the last time you had fun anyway?” He asked.

“Depends on your definition of fun.” You retorted.

“You know what I mean.” Bucky sighed.

“Well, my idea of fun doesn’t involve a guitarist getting me into his bed for a one night stand.” You blurted out, mindlessly.

Bucky made a face and clutched his chest, “Ouch. You went hard on that judgment, I’m not gonna lie, that kinda stings.”

Okay, now you felt bad for jumping to conclusions. Bucky did look like he was hurt from your brash statement. Fuck, he probably thought you were one of those stereotypical bitches! It wasn’t entirely your fault, right? You were just being careful. Were you? Or was it purely overthinking? Your brain was moving all too fast but Bucky quickly distracted you when he took your hand and placed your phone back onto your palm.

“You know, I think I get it why you said that and I honestly can’t blame you. A band dude flirts with you just like that, understandable why you thought that I wanted to get into your pants.” He explained much to your relief.

“I’m sorry, it was tasteless for me to judge you like that.” You quickly apologized, genuinely feeling like a terrible person.

Bucky smiled at you, “Nah, you had every right. I’m sorry if I was too forward but I do really want to spend some time to get to know you. So how about a little proposal?”

There was a glint in Bucky’s eyes that made your heart flutter and your brain go into overdrive. You knew it was a bad idea to give in to Bucky. Someone as charming as him might really be up to no good. Sure, you felt bad for judging him based on his looks. But something in your gut tells you that he was trouble.

“What proposal?” You asked curiously.

“Spend the next twelve hours with me.” Bucky suggested.

You frowned, “What?”

Bucky took your phone again, but only to check the time. “It’s a little past eleven now, I promise you’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Come with me, let loose for once and let’s spend the entire night together. Twelve hours, that’s it.” He said excitedly.

“And I don’t mean have sex with me.” Bucky explained immediately.  “We’ll just hang out, it’s a wholesome proposal. But if you do want to have sex with me, I’m not gonna turn that down. I’m just saying, it’s not my motive but I won’t be saying no to it either.” He reassured.

You felt hot all of a sudden at how Bucky casually talked about having sex with you. It made you feel feverish and for someone who wasn’t really a sexual person, it made you feel like you were about to commit a major sin just by listening to Bucky talk like that.

Bucky beamed at you cutely, waiting for your response and honestly, with how his doe eyes were looking at you like that, was it even possible to say no? Despite the continuous alarms in your head and your inner prude begging you to stay within the confines of your comfort zone, you decided to do something for a change.

So you said yes.

You were spending the next twelve hours with Bucky and you could only hope that you wouldn’t regret it.

-

The night started off slow, thankfully, with Bucky ushering you back into the bar for a couple of drinks. You had to remind yourself to still be alert for any red flags that might show up sooner or later. You knew you were being a bit paranoid, but to hell, it would be better that way than to make mistakes tonight.

“Where do you work?” Bucky asked before calling the waiter.

“I work at a bank.” You told him.

The waiter arrived and took your orders, a tall glass of mojito for you and a rum and coke for Bucky. He asked you a couple more things, where you graduated, your hobbies and what you often did during your weekends. All of which you had pretty boring responses to. Bucky listened though and he didn’t seem bored too, what a relief.

“Are you really sure about spending twelve hours just like this?” You asked, taking another sip from your second glass of mojito.

Bucky snickered, “We won’t be talking the entire night, did you really think I’d ask for your twelve hours just to talk?” He asked.

“What are you planning then?” You asked nervously.

Bucky offered you an amused smile, “Nothing illegal so stop worrying, pretty lady. I can see the gears in your head turning.” He said and leaned forward to smoothen out the crease in between your brows with his thumb.

“Come on, time to have fun.” He said and got up, offering you his hand.

You haven’t even recovered from how gentle Bucky was when he touched your forehead. And now here he was, standing over you with his tattooed arm extended, waiting for you to take his hand.

“I don’t bite.” He stated.

Letting out a sigh, you finished up your drink and stood up, slipping your hand into Bucky’s. He smiled at you, lifting your hand up to his face and pressing a kiss on it before winking.

“See? I told you, I don’t bite.”

You cleared your throat and pursed your lips, biting back a smile as Bucky tugged you as he walked out of the bar, keeping your hand in his the entire time. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all?

“Here.” Bucky said, handing you over his helmet.

It was then that you realized that he was about to give you a ride. On his motorcycle. The sirens in your head went off once again, bringing you back to your usual tensed state.

“Oh, no. Look, I know I said yes to your proposal but I’m not going to ride on that.” You disagreed and took a step back.

Bucky looked disappointed but shrugged anyway, placing the helmet back on the bike. “Fine. I’ll let you off this time, just because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Come with me.” He said and took your hand in his again as the both of you went back inside the bar.

He brought you towards the booth where the rest of his band were staying at. They all looked at you with smirks on their faces when Bucky introduced you to them.

“That’s Nat, our vocalist. Sam here is our drummer and Steve the bassist.” He said.

You gave them a polite smile and a quick wave. Bucky threw his keys over at Steve, who was supposed to be your type. Wanda thought so and you were just weirded out that you happen to be drawn towards Bucky instead.

“Hey punk, switch your car for my bike? Just for tonight.” Bucky said.

Steve looked so done with his request but shook his head in defeat as he fished his keys out of his pocket. He pointed at Bucky threateningly, “Don’t mess up my car, jerk. You know what I mean by that.” He said before throwing his own keys over at Bucky who caught it with ease.

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. Thanks, pal!” Bucky bid goodbyes and pulled you again before you could even say your own goodbyes to his bandmates.

Now, you were inside Steve’s car with Bucky and you were nervous as fuck. Although you did find it considerate of Bucky to borrow his friend’s car to make things comfortable for you. You were going to admit that, but it made your heart flutter. You mentally snorted at yourself because fuck, the bar is set pretty low alright.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, noticing how you tensed up all of a sudden.

“Do we have rules?” You asked.

“This night is all about letting loose and the first thing you thought of are rules?” Bucky laughed.

“I’m about to spend the next twelve hours with a complete stranger, of course I’d be worried! What if—“

“Okay, calm down!” Bucky said, turning in his seat to face you, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“If it’ll make you less tense then fine, I’ll come up with rules. Number one is to stop worrying.” Bucky said, rubbing your arms up and down and you were supposed to feel uncomfortable with the intimacy but you didn’t.

There was no malice to it and it made you panic all the more because ugh, Bucky was making you all soft and vulnerable around him. You could hear Wanda inside your head, commanding you to just calm down and go with the flow. You took in a deep breath and composed yourself.

“You gotta learn to trust people. I promise you, we won’t be getting in any trouble. I’ll take good care of you.” Bucky said, letting your arms go and tipping your chin so you’d look at him.

“Rule two, no what ifs. Just focus on the present, okay? If you keep worrying about what could happen, you’ll miss out on the now. Trust me, you wouldn’t want that.” Something about the change in Bucky’s eyes when he said that made you curious.

He was on to something, like he really meant it. You wanted to ask him about it, hell, you should start asking him for more information. If he wanted to get to know you better then you should attempt to do the same to him too.

“Last rule is to just enjoy. Like I said, I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You trust me now?” Bucky asked with hopeful eyes.

The alarms in your head still kept going, but as you gazed back at Bucky, the softer they were becoming. You could feel yourself start to give in and you know what? It actually doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Maybe this would help with your attachment issues? This will probably teach you how to have fun with no attachments. Take things for what they are and just enjoy.

“Hey, will you trust me?” Bucky asked again.

“Yeah, yeah I will.”

-

1:15AM

Bucky took you to a hole in the wall open mic bar. It was a small place and everyone there seemed to know each other. And when Bucky arrived, everyone just greeted him and welcomed you there.

“You seem pretty popular here.” You told him as he led you to one of the seats near the makeshift stage.

“I spend a lot of time here.” He said and called over the guy by the bar.

“Hey Happy! Wanna introduce you to a special friend.” He said. The man approached your table and greeted you with a smile.

“Must be really special, you never bring anyone here.” Happy said, making you blush uncontrollably.

Bucky bit his lip as he turned to you, “Do you sing?” He asked.

You quickly shook your head, “Oh god, no. I don’t have the talent.” You said.

Happy chuckled, “That wouldn’t be a problem, trust me.” He reassured.

Bucky lifted an eyebrow at you, “Wanna go up there and sing with me?”

“Bucky, no.” You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Come on, no one’s gonna judge you. Let loose, remember? And if anyone here laughs at you, I’ll be the first to punch them in the face.” He promised.

You thought for a while, keeping your eyes on Bucky. Fuck this. You called Happy and requested for a shot of tequila.

“That’s my girl! Just needs a little bit of liquid courage, huh?”

You snorted, “Oh that’s not for me. That’s for you. You’re gonna need it if you’ll be hearing me sing.”

You never performed in front of a crowd, well, back in high school maybe for some school plays. But hell, you were never the center of attention and whenever you had to be, you always experienced a panic attack. But now being on stage with Bucky behind you, playing the guitar as you sang (screeched actually), you’d never felt more alive and relaxed. True enough, no one cared about how off tune you were. In fact, you got a lot of cheers from the crowd.

2:45AM

“You hungry?” Bucky asked.

You couldn’t believe it, you’ve been singing on stage the entire time at the bar. You’d like to believe that it was probably the alcohol running in your veins, but you weren’t that drunk. Tipsy, maybe but definitely not drunk. It was fun, you were surprised at how much you enjoyed singing with Bucky and everybody else. You made a couple of new friends aside from Happy, talked to them and even exchanged numbers with a few. This was the most sociable you’ve ever been.

“I could use some carbs right now.” You laughed, wiping off the sweat on your forehead.

Bucky reached out to fix your hair, moving away the sweaty strands sticking onto your cheeks and tucking them behind your ear. He flashed you that oh so charming smile again and good god, Bucky was truly something else.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” He said.

Bucky drove to a 24-hour food truck somewhere. It was close to 3am but you didn’t feel exhausted, which was shocking given that you’ve been dying to go home a few hours ago before meeting Bucky and agreeing to go on an escapade with him. You could already hear Wanda squealing over the phone once you tell her everything.

The both of you ordered some soft tacos and sat on one of the benches beside the food truck.

“Enjoying so far?” Bucky asked with interest.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth full of food as you devoured your tacos. “Very much.” You admitted.

Bucky’s eyes crinkled as he laughed along with you, obviously pleased that you were enjoying yourself. Not long ago, twelve hours seemed a bit too long. Now, they felt too short. You could feel your brain begin to overthink what would happen once the the twelve hours are over, but you quickly shook them away and followed Bucky’s advice to focus on the present.

The two of you continued to talk as you ate. You discovered that Bucky and his bandmates go way back and that they’ve been performing since their days at the university. You also found out that Bucky’s last relationship ended six years ago and that he hasn’t dated anyone since then. You found out a lot of things about Bucky, most of which were far from your first impressions.

“Why’d your friend leave you at the bar?” Bucky asked, taking out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

You watched him with hazy eyes as he lighted the cigarette, puffing out a thin line of smoke with ease. You were always drawn to Bucky’s fingers and initially, it was because of the impure thoughts they made you think about. But more than that, they were the gentlest you’d ever seen.

“Probably to get me to have fun.” You responded, looking away timidly when Bucky noticed you staring at his hands.

“She’s gonna be very proud of you after this.” He said.

You nodded and breathed out a chuckle, “Oh, for sure.” You said before turning to Bucky. “Can I try?” You asked, motioning towards his cigarette.

“I haven’t smoked. Ever.” You admitted.

Bucky grinned and passed you the cigarette. “Go on.” He urged and kept his eyes on you as you brought the cigarette up to your lips.

The way Bucky watched you was intimidating in the sense that it felt intimate. It wasn’t like he was eye-fucking you or anything, his eyes were just too...expressive? They held a certain softness to them, a bit of sadness too when you look at it closely. They were the bluest, most beautiful color you’ve seen and they were captivating.

You ended up in a coughing fit from that first drag. Bucky chuckled and took the cigarette from your hand, patting your back as you continued to cough.

“Definitely not for me.” You frowned and took a sip from your iced tea.

“At least you tried. I’m proud of you.” Bucky said, the gentle pats on your back slowing down until his hand remained still.

“You good?” He asked again, sliding his hand lower until he reached the small of your back, but not low enough to make you uncomfortable.

You nodded, “What else is up in your sleeve?” You asked with interest.

“Well, I really wanted to take you on a ride on my bike but I guess that’s for next time.” Bucky confessed.

“Next time?” You asked and you tried not to be hopeful.

“Yeah, next time. We’ll do that next time.” Bucky said and he sounded so sure that you began to worry.

Will there really be a next time? At this point, Bucky could read you like an open book because he chuckled and pressed his thumb against the crease on your forehead again.

“You’re doing it again, whatever you’re worrying about just forget it for now.” He said, soothing out your crease before pinching your nose.

You scrunched your nose making Bucky lightly laugh. He checked the time on his phone and let out a sigh.

3:43AM

“Can I bring you back to my place?”

-

If you told Wanda that you ended up in Bucky’s place, she would freak out and ask for all the details. But no, you didn’t come home with Bucky for that reason. As he promised, it wasn’t his motive to get you into his bed and he seemed to be genuine about it.

Bucky lived in a small studio-type loft. It wasn’t the penthouse kind with the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city. It was simple and minimalistic, with just a few pieces of furniture. What Bucky owned were a couple of guitars— different kinds of them, and an electric keyboard.

“It’s not much and I don’t even have a bed frame, I hope you won’t judge me for that.” Bucky said, scratching his neck as he led you inside.

“No, not at all. It’s very cozy in here, actually.” You said, looking around and taking in your surroundings.

Bucky had a lot of indoor plants, you definitely didn’t think of him as a plant guy. As you let your eyes wander, something white zoomed past your vision. A cat.

Bucky also owned a cat.

“This is Alpine.” Bucky said, picking up the feline and carrying it onto his shoulder.

As if Bucky and his plants didn’t make him attractive enough, he really had to own a white cat. You could feel yourself internally screaming about how you haven’t been seeing any red flags. If any, you’ve been seeing green flags pop out every now and then that it was pretty alarming. Strangely, the sirens in your head died down as if they’ve given up on warning you.

Or maybe, there was really nothing to warn about Bucky.

The cat purred and nuzzled its nose into Bucky’s neck and you couldn’t believe that you got jealous for a brief second. Oh, to be cat against Bucky’s chest.

“Feel free to look around, I’ll get you water.” He said, bringing Alpine with him into the kitchen.

You walked around his place and observed the surroundings. He was very organized, more than you actually. You could hear Bucky talk to Alpine and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen.

A couple of picture frames that sat on Bucky’s bedside table caught your eye. They were photos of him with his mom you assumed, and three more girls.

“Those are my mom and younger sisters.” Bucky said, appearing behind you with a glass of water.

You thanked him as you took the glass and sat down on his bed, “Where are they?” You asked before drinking.

Alpine jumped into your lap and purred, making Bucky laugh with delight as he sat next to you. His parents were back in his hometown together with his sisters. Bucky told you everything about his family and how close he was to his sisters, how they were supportive of him when he decided to become a musician. Then Bucky went on to showcase his guitar collection, telling you the lovely stories behind each of them. You could see how passionate Bucky was for his craft and it was a wonderful thing to witness. You were envious how Bucky pursued his passion, how he took huge risks to get to where he was now.

“And this is my favorite one.” Bucky said, taking a black electric guitar with him as he went back to sit down next to you.

“First one I bought with my own money. It’s old and doesn’t sound as nice as my newer ones, but I love it.” He said and started plucking at the strings.

Alpine hopped off from your lap and went to sleep onto his tiny little bed beside Bucky’s couch. You focused on Bucky’s fingers as he played the guitar. It took you back to the moment you saw him onstage, how those fingers made you wonder about certain things. They moved gracefully against the cords, plucking with ease producing the most wonderful music. You really needed to snap out of your filthy thoughts.

Bucky played the guitar for you, singing some lyrics once in a while. You noticed his tattoos again and stared a bit longer, trying to decipher each design wrapped around his arm. Some were huge, some intricate more than the rest. They were all of different designs but molded together so perfectly.

You had to admit, you didn’t find tattoos attractive before. But on Bucky, it looked like a masterpiece. He himself, was a piece of art with his chiseled jawline and steel blue eyes that made you feel at home.

“I’ve been meaning to ask...” you softly trailed.

Bucky hummed in response, his attention focused on his guitar as he continued to play.

“Your tattoos, do they mean something?” You asked.

“I got them to cover up the scars from an accident.” Bucky looked up at you.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” You quickly apologized.

Bucky smiled reassuringly, “It’s fine. It was a turning point for me.” He said, setting his guitar aside.

“It really puts things into perspective you know. I crashed my bike one night, I wasn’t drunk, mind you.” He chuckled. “It was pretty bad, my left arm suffered the most. I almost got decapitated but here I am. I got scars all over, really ugly scars so I had them covered up with a tattoo sleeve.” Bucky explained, extending his left arm and looking at it.

“For a while, I wasn’t able to play music. And I hated every second of it. Hated seeing the scars on my arm and how they reminded me of the accident. But you learn to live with it. At least I did, I learned to turn the negative into something positive.”

Now that he said that, you could actually see some of the scars beneath the ink. Bucky shrugged and continued with his story.

“The doctors said I was lucky that I didn’t die. Living my second life now, I realized that I gotta make the most out of it. Focus on the present and enjoy what comes your way. Take risks. Do what scares you.” He explained and now you understood.

You understood why Bucky appeared to be so laid-back and carefree, why he doesn’t worry a lot about the future. He almost lost his life so now he was living it to the fullest. He was living in the present, enjoying every second of it.

“Every time I see my tattoos, I get reminded of my second chance at life and how I shouldn’t waste it.” He said.

Bucky saw the look in your face, how guilty you looked from judging him right away. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, tipping it up to make you look at him.

“So when I noticed that bored pretty office girl in the audience checking me out, I didn’t waste the opportunity to get to know her. See where it goes, who knows if I’d still be alive tomorrow but at least I shoot my shot.” He said, making you chuckle.

Everything went still in that moment, your usually noisy mind included. Time seemed to have stopped as you gazed into Bucky’s eyes. Biting your lip, you gave in and totally let down your walls.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Bucky asked, doing the same thing with his thumb, soothing the crease in between your brows.

This time, he didn’t take his hand back and allowed it to rest against your cheek before sliding down to your jaw and neck. His thumb began to caress the spot beneath your ear, waiting for you to respond to his question.

What Bucky got was more than just a simple response.

“Fuck it.” You whispered before pressing your lips onto Bucky’s.

All your life you played it safe— from your college course to your choice of career. You weren’t one to take risks either and whenever you needed to, they were always calculated. You did things carefully, making sure that you’d get the results you were expecting to save you from disappointment. The unknown scared you and so does uncertainty. You liked staying in your comfort zone but as much as you’ve been denying it, it was starting to get boring.

You also said you weren’t one to entertain a stranger, let alone hook-up with one. But then Bucky comes along with his long hair and tattooed arm, looking like trouble but bringing you none. You’d think that he just wanted to get into your pants but as he showered you with gentle kisses and feathery touches, you realized that Bucky might be different and that he was so much more than just the hot lead guitarist of a band.

Bucky’s calloused fingers perfectly contrasted the smooth expanse of your skin. They felt rough but remained gentle as they moved along your chest, as they danced along your back, as they stroked your inner walls. And his lips, they were tender and soft; they whispered nothing but promises and praises against your ear as your bodies moved in unison.

His eyes remained on you, taking all of your nakedness in, literally and figuratively. He watched you closely, with those blue eyes of his that always made you blush. Bucky’s eyes were truly mesmerizing, no matter how much you wanted to look away from embarrassment, you couldn’t. You felt trapped in those eyes, and you never want to leave.

And his left arm— you could feel the ridges of his scars as you let your hands feel his skin. But they weren’t ugly, didn’t feel weird against the pads of your fingers. His arm offered nothing but warmth and support when you reached your high and came crashing down. His arms caught you and protected you, his embrace was reassuring and it made you feel safe.

5:58AM

The city was quiet and the sun was barely up. Alpine was still curled up on his bed, sleeping. You were exhausted but satisfied and comfortable as you laid on your stomach, head turned and facing Bucky as you listened to him talk.

He was talking about his band’s first performance in college, laughing when he said that he almost threw up from being so nervous. Bucky had the softest voice in the wee hours of dawn, you loved listening to him. Lucky you, Bucky had been talking about anything and everything until the dark skies began to change its hues. He shared his dreams and his secrets and you admired him more and more.

“You should come to our rehearsals.” He suggested, letting a hand trace patterns on your bare back.

“Sounds nice.” You yawned, blinking your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

“What do you want for brunch?” Bucky asked, almost mumbling from being half-asleep.

You hummed, “By the time we wake up, it might be close to dinner.” You joked.

“Breakfast food is way better during dinner. Want me to cook for you?” Bucky said before yawning.

Your eyes were lidded as you took in Bucky’s form. He was laying beside you, long hair messed up and lips swollen pink from kissing. He looked unreal as a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through his curtains, embracing his body with its warm glow. The sun was now fully up, witnessing the tender aftermath of your intimacy with Bucky as he reached out to brush his knuckle along your cheekbone.

“I’m surprised you can cook.” You said softly, close to falling asleep.

“I’m pretty good at it.” Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“I’ll cook for you when we wake up.” 

Bucky’s soft lips against yours was the last thing you felt before sleep took over.

-

12:24PM

A soft purr paired with soft paws on his face stirred Bucky awake. He groaned at Alpine when she meowed right into his face. Must be feeding time, he thought.

Bucky gently moved Alpine aside and turned, only to be met by a cold, empty space beside him. He sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes before quickly scanning his apartment for you.

You were gone.

And judging by the cold sheets on your side of the bed, you’d left hours ago. Bucky sighed in disappointment as he got up, putting on his boxers and quickly checking the bathroom. He hoped you’d be there, but you weren’t.

You didn’t even leave a note.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to cook for you, really. He wanted to bring you to his band’s rehearsals, maybe even write a song for you.

He wanted more than twelve hours with you.

-

Wanda had been on your ass for days now. When you told her about your twelve hours with Bucky, she was happy and proud. By the time you got to the end of it, she was fuming and was close to actually physically hurting you.

She wouldn’t stop bugging you about it, demanding you to at least look Bucky up on Facebook or Instagram. Wanda believed that what you and Bucky shared that night was special, something real and not just a one-time thing.

You woke up that morning, feeling sore but happy. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you opened your eyes to the sight of Bucky sleeping peacefully beside you. He seemed to be dreaming, his brows creased and lips pursed.

Reaching out, you did what Bucky kept on doing to you whenever you were worrying. You pressed your thumb against his forehead, soothing out the crease as gentle as you could so as not to wake him up. Bucky stirred in his sleep and unconsciously took your hand in his, pressing a kiss onto your palm before falling back into his slumber.

And that’s when it started; the alarms in your head went off and they were the loudest they’ve ever been. You were almost deafened by it, your logic drowning beneath your panicked thoughts as you got up from bed. You dressed up in a hurry, grabbing your things and phone to book yourself a ride home. Alpine woke up and ran over to your legs, purring as if begging you not to go.

You refused to look back and went straight for the door.

One and a half week later, here you were still feeling like the most terrible person on the entire planet. You had searched for Bucky online, of course. You just didn’t tell Wanda that but it was the first thing that you did upon going home. There were instances when you were tempted to send him a DM, or add him up on Facebook but you never did. 

That one night with Bucky changed everything, it changed you. You immediately filed for a resignation, realizing that you were no longer happy working for the bank. It was a spur of the moment decision but you knew it was the right one. You didn’t even know where to apply next or what career to pursue. But you weren’t worried like you had expected to be.

Bucky taught you to take risks, to not fear the unknown because things will eventually fall into place. You felt good though, that you were slowly learning to step out of your comfort zone. But something was amiss and you knew what it was. Or who it was.

You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.

-

It was around nine in the evening when you went to the grocery store for a last minute shopping decision. Wanda was coming over for a movie night and apparently, you didn’t have any snacks left.

Finishing your list, you turned at the corner of an aisle and collided with somebody. Your apology died on your tongue when you looked up to see a familiar face.

Steve.

“Hi.” You softly greeted, wondering if he would even remember you.

He frowned at you and you were surprised that he remembered you and actually knew about that night.

“Why’d you leave Bucky just like that?” He asked right away.

You swallowed and avoided his gaze, “It was...it’s not a big deal. It was a one-time thing anyway.” You lied through your teeth.

Steve scoffed, “It didn’t seem like a one-time thing when Bucky came to our rehearsals the next day feeling bummed out.” He explained and sighed afterwards, shaking his head.

“Look, I’m in no position to interfere. I don’t know you and why you did that so who am I to judge? But I know Bucky. He isn’t what you think he is.” Steve said.

“I know.” You whispered.

“Then why’d you leave?” Steve asked again but didn’t wait for a response.

“Bucky may come off a little too strong, he’s straightforward and passionate. He gives it his all and that night with you...he gave everything. He was really hurt when you left.”

You were unable to speak because fuck, you messed up big time. You didn’t know that Bucky was going to feel that way when you left. You got scared and ran away even when there was nothing to be afraid of. Steve must have noticed your guilt and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“We’re playing tonight at the music bar. You have the chance to make things right.” Steve said and offered you a small smile before leaving.

You stood in the grocery store while in deep thoughts. Again, your mind was all kinds of messed up and your thoughts were fighting for dominance. There were sirens going on and off and fuck, it was all driving you insane. Your heart began to race when you felt an impending sense of doom wash over you. You were panicking and you were fighting so hard to calm your nerves.

And then you remembered Bucky that night and how he was quick to silence your brain with a simple yet comforting gesture.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

A thumb on your forehead to soothe your worries. Those steel blue eyes providing you comfort, and that charming smile that never failed to reassure you.

You quickly called Wanda.

“Movie night is cancelled!”

-

The dimly lit music bar welcomed you with a sense of familiarity. It had been more than a week since your encounter with Bucky and yet it felt like it was only yesterday.

Smiling to yourself, you remembered how tensed you were when Bucky first approached you. You were so defensive, you had your walls built up high but Bucky managed to bring them down. It didn’t even take him the full twelve hours to do so.

The music bar was full with no vacant spot near the stage. The current band just finished their song and was preparing to exit. You squeezed your way to the front, ignoring the complaints of people you slightly pushed away. A familiar voice greeted the crowd a good evening before introducing their band.

Your breath hitched when you spotted Bucky onstage. His hair was down and he was sporting a little bit of scruff. You watched him play his guitar but something was different. He wasn’t as passionate as he used to be, like he wasn’t focused. He almost looked like he didn’t want to be there. And his eyes, they were empty and void of any emotion. No mischievous glint in them, no nothing.

It broke your heart seeing Bucky like this, especially that you knew you were the reason for it.

It took a while for Bucky to look up and scan the crowd and when he finally did, his eyes immediately met yours.

Just like the first time, you felt your face heat up from the eye contact. Bucky was surprised to see you, you saw how his eyes widened at the sight of you. He was quick to recover though, he looked away and focused on playing the guitar instead.

As soon as his band exited the stage, you wasted no time to approach them. Steve greeted you with a nod before calling for Nat and Sam, asking for them accompany him to the bar to give you some privacy. Bucky refused to look at you as he gathered his stuff, preparing to leave.

“Can we talk?” You asked.

“I’m heading home.” Bucky curtly responded and brushed past you.

The tables have turned with you walking ahead of him to block his way.

“The night is young, stay a while and keep me company?” You used his line and Bucky was having none of it.

He scoffed and shook his head, “I’m surprised you remembered what I said. I mean, after you just disappeared I assumed you’d completely forgotten about that night.”

“I didn’t.” You told him. “Can we please talk?” You pleaded.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I really wanna go home.” He said.

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, “Give me twelve minutes.” You offered.

“Just twelve minutes of your time. Please, Bucky.”

-

The two of you stepped outside the bar for some silence. Bucky walked over to his bike, leaning against it as he looked at you coldly. Those eyes used to gaze at you with warmth, but now they were blank and cold.

“Time is ticking.” He said when you kept mum.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear like that.” You said, looking down at your feet.

How else were you going to say your piece? You had practiced your speech on the way to the bar and now that Bucky was in front of you, you couldn’t even look at him from shame.

Bucky scoffed, “You asked me for twelve minutes and that’s all you’re gonna say? You’re sorry? Just that?” He bitterly chuckled, running a hand over his scruff.

“If you didn’t mean it then why did you leave? You left me without any warning. I honestly thought there was something between us. After everything that happened, how could you just walk away like that? You led me on, didn’t you?” Bucky angrily asked.

“I didn’t! I swear, I didn’t but I got scared!” You admitted.

���Scared of what?” He asked. “Scared of me? Because I’m not the kind of guy you usually go for? You really couldn’t get rid of that first impression, huh?” He said and turned around.

“That’s not the reason why. Everything scared me because that night was something else. You were too good to be true, Bucky! That’s what scared me!” You told him.

Bucky turned around, his brows creased, “What?”

When you woke up that morning, everything seemed perfect. The past twelve hours you had spent with Bucky were wonderful and you loved every second of it. You enjoyed too much and the thought of it being a one-time thing really broke your heart.

You had attachment issues and you thought that giving in to Bucky would help you learn to enjoy things as they were. But it didn’t and made it even worse because you got attached, so fucking attached.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of ending those twelve hours with a permanent goodbye so I left. You suddenly talked about next time and tomorrow and it was...it was overwhelming for me. My fear got the best of me because that night was too good. You were too good.”

Bucky’s expression softened after hearing your side. Now you felt stupid for overthinking things. It was selfish on your part to assume that those twelve hours meant nothing to Bucky.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized softly. “That night meant everything to me, Bucky. I just wasn’t ready to find out whether it meant the same to you.” You confessed with a sigh.

Bucky stayed quiet after your confession. You could feel your bile rising, you wanted to throw up. Hell, you wanted to just faint and forget about everything. If Bucky wouldn’t give you a second chance, you’d understand him. You did a pretty shitty thing to him anyway.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

You lifted your gaze upon hearing that line. Bucky’s eyes had their warmth back and his expression was no longer stoic. He pushed himself away from his bike and approached you, reaching out to soothe the crease on your forehead.

“It’s not everyday that I find myself in the company of a stranger who made me feel things. I’ve always been a traditional one, I take things slow and I’ve been very careful. When I felt something during those twelve hours, I was caught off guard. I never felt so strongly for someone I just met and it was all new to me and I panicked.” You confessed.

“You were out of my comfort zone and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t mean to disappear like that, Bucky.”

You were met with pure silence after your admission. When you looked up at Bucky, you couldn’t read his expression. Thinking that he wasn’t buying your explanation, you let out a bitter chuckle and shrugged.

“I guess that’s it. Twelve minutes. No more no less. I just wanted you to know that, Bucky. And I’m really, really sorry.” You said and slowly backed away, ready to leave.

“Hey.” Bucky called out, approaching you.

“If I asked you to spend the next twelve hours with me again, where would you go after?” He asked.

Was this a test? You didn’t know how to respond and Bucky seemed to have caught up on that and let out a breathy chuckle.

“Will you stay until the morning this time?” He asked. “‘Cause I was pretty disappointed when I woke up to an empty bed. I had our brunch planned out, you know?”

The mischievous glint in Bucky’s eyes was back. You bit back a smile when Bucky cradled your head into his palm, thumb circling the skin on your neck.

You timidly nodded, tilting your head up to meet Bucky’s lips in a searing kiss that promised you another twelve hours together. And more.

“No more running off in the morning.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr @asemistablehundredyearoldman @reidbuck @lizzarooni @girlfriday007 @bonkywobble @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @whoth3hellisbucky @5-seconds-of-mendes​ 

[blu-joons]

The Coincidence ~ Kim Mingyu

You pushed the door open of the coffee store, letting go of a high as the scent of coffee beans struck you immediately. It had always been your favourite place to visit, a place where you could sit for hours and simply watch the world go by.

“Hey Y/N,” Soyeon smiled as you made your way over to the counter. “Let me guess, ice americano with extra shot?” She questioned, already knowing what your answer would be.

“How do you get it right every time,” you laughed, reaching for your purse in the bottom of your bag, pulling out enough to pay. It was the same routine for you most days when you showed your face, the store was almost like a second home for you.

“I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

Your head shook, “I’ll wait today, I could do with being on my feet a bit more these days.”

Soyeon nodded, turning around to start working on your drink. The queue behind you was empty as you waited, scanning the store for the perfect table. As you did, you noticed the door opening and a tall gentleman walking in.

As you felt him near you, you reverted your eyes back to Soyeon, trying to ignore the presence of the man beside you. “It’s a lovely day,” he smiled, happy to engage in polite conversation with you.

“You clearly don’t know the city well at all.”

Your head turn to glance at the man and offer him a warming smile, only as you did, you felt your breath hitch. The eyes of Mingyu stared back down at you, the same guy you’d met at a Seventeen fan meet just a couple of weeks ago.

“I know your face,” he smiled, pointing across at you, “or at least I hope that you’re the same face.”

“That depends on where you know me from,” you laughed, “if you’ve spotted me on a wanted list, I’m definitely not who you think I am, and I will run out of this store before you call the cops.”

“Of course, not. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you at a fan meet a couple of weeks ago?” He questioned, sighing in relief when your head nodded. “I knew that I’d remember a face like yours.”

Your brows knitted together as Soyeon returned with your drink. “What do you mean a face like mine? Is there something wrong with my face Mingyu?”

“No, the opposite actually. Your face is very memorable, in a very good way.”

You smiled appreciatively in his direction before spinning on your heels, spotting a table free by the window. Once you’d placed your jacket around your chair and sat down, you pulled your phone out of your pocket, opening up your photo album as you looked back over the photos that you’d taken just a couple of weeks ago.

Whilst Mingyu ordered his drink from Soyeon, he couldn’t help but keep glancing across at you. He wore a wide smile as he watched you, engrossed in whatever it was on your phone, admiring the concentration you put into it.

“She’s a nice girl,” Soyeon suddenly informed him as she handed his drink across to him.

“I’ll take your word for it. Maybe I’ll go over and say hello properly.”

With his drink in hand, Mingyu thanked Soyeon before walking around the store, stopping when he got to your table. Your eyes were drawn to a pair of blue jeans in your peripheral vision, glancing up to see Mingyu grinning back down at you.

“I was just wondering if this seat was taken?” He laughed, pointing to the free blue chair that was opposite it to you. “Do you mind if I join you at all?”

Your head shook, waving your hand across for him to take a seat. On the outside, you were playing it cool in front of Mingyu, but on the inside, every part of you wanted to scream. You couldn’t quite believe that it was him who was sat in front of you, as if it were some weird coincidence that you were to see him so soon again.

Neither of you wanted to be the first to speak as you looked across at him, resting your hands around your coffee mug with your phone quickly discarded of when you saw Mingyu beside you.

Similarly, Mingyu also held onto his coffee mug. Looking between the floor and you several times before finally deciding on what to say. “I love to take the time to thank all of our fans, especially those who attend all of our fan meets.”

Your eyes shot up at the sudden sound of his voice. “I should be thanking you for making such good music. But I have to ask, what made you remember my face? There were thousands of fans at the theatre on that day.”

“I have a good memory for certain people, people that I want to remember, I usually end up doing so,” he informed you, raising his right eyebrow. “There must have been something about you on that day that I wanted to remember.”

A bright red blush quickly crept to your cheeks, leaving you no choice but to try and laugh your way through the embarrassment. You knew that Mingyu was watching every little thing that you did, only making things worse for you as you tried not to make too big a fool of yourself.

At the sudden silence between you both, you brought your coffee cup to your lips, taking a huge sip before Mingyu spoke again. “It feels a bit like a coincidence that I’ve seen you again, I really wanted to say hello at the fan meet properly.”

“You guys are incredibly busy though, if you took the time to say hello to every fan properly the likelihood is that you’d still be there now,” you teased, but Mingyu’s head shook back at you.

“Trust me, I’d never take the time to thank every single fan, just the ones that capture my attention,” he complimented, noticing how your body tensed up at his words.

By this point, you knew it was pointless to even try and mask the red glow that was on your cheeks, even if Mingyu pretended not to notice it. You were sure Mingyu was just trying to find a way of the conversation at this point whilst you continued to blush.

You watched on as Mingyu took the cardboard band off from around his mug, reaching into his bag to pull out a pen. “I can’t stay for long here today, but I hope when I tell you that you caught my attention at the fan meet that day, you’ll know a little bit more of what I meant. Very few fans catch my eye like you did, and I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Y/N,” you whispered, watching as his eyes lit up, scribbling it down on the piece of paper. “Can I ask what you plan on doing with that bit of paper seeing as you wrote my name on it.”

“You’ll see in a minute, just be a bit patient, Y/N,” he chuckled, placing his hand over it.

Once he was done, he turned it over and slid it across the table. When you went to pick it up, he quickly stopped you, standing up from the table.

“You have to wait until I’ve left before you can turn that around,” he instructed, picking up his coat and walking out of the store with his hot mug still in hand.

You spun around to watch him closely, waiting until he’d walked out of the door before turning the piece of paper around, looking down at what he’d written.

Y/N, here’s my number when you get the chance, text me. I want to take you out before we move onto the next city. Mingyu x

---

Masterlist

[dracoladon]

Hello lovely! What about est relationship + borrowing clothes? Maybe Draco wearing Harry’s shirts or jumpers? Could be as fluffy or smutty (or both) as you want 💗 - sitp

thank u liv for this lovely prompt. fair warning: buckle your seatbelts for the not one but two sets of parentheses within another set of parentheses.  

i was tragically torn between soft and smutty in this one. we’ve ended up with kind of both and kind of neither — enjoy 😔

explicit(ish), 1389 words 

The first time, Draco takes Harry’s jumper. It’s his, his favourite, knitted by Molly and given to him when he was twenty years old. It’s blue, and has a whale on the front in a deep navy tincture (the noughties were when Molly entered her experimental phase — instead of letters, everyone's Christmas sweater bore some kind of (no offence, Molly, but utterly random) image. Ginny’s had a platypus on it, Percy’s had yew branches up the sleeves, and Ron’s, an impressively detailed Muggle toaster (??) across the chest.) 

Whatever. Logic aside, Harry loves his jumper, and he loves his whale, who Ron dubbed Herbert towards the befuddled, tipsy end of the night. (“Herb for short,” he said, and then collapsed into his eggnog.) He loves that Molly chose it for him, the Warming charms entwined in the wool that feel like her fierce, protective magic against his skin, and the way it’s become loose and pliant with age. 

Unfortunately for Harry (and Herb), Draco likes the jumper too. Likes it so much that he sees fit to employ every Slytherin-y wile in his arsenal to try and steal it. 

“I don’t understand why you covet poor Herb, Draco,” Harry says, when he goes looking for the jumper and finds it missing from it’s drawer again. “I would have thought him nowhere near sophisticated enough for your tastes.”

Draco sniffs and rolls onto his stomach. “I’m sure I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,” he says, and manages to sound lofty even with his face half buried in a pillow. 

* * *

The second time, Harry takes Draco’s tie. It’s a silvery grey one that’s the same colour as his eyes, a custom made gift from Pansy for his last birthday. 

And Potter, the cheeky fuck, has stolen it. A looter, ruthlessly purloined it in an unscrupulous heist, that he’s probably been planning ever since they first started dating, or is it why he even pursued Draco in the first place(?!), just to whisk it away from everything it knows, and—

“That’s quite enough,” Harry says. “And I didn’t take your tie.”

Draco slams his hand down on the kitchen bench. “Lies! Fraudulence!—”

“—I took ransom. You’ll get your tie back when you return my son.”

Well. Well! Draco pretends to dust lint from his sleeve. He says, cooly, “Herbert prefers my company, anyway.”

“He does not.”

* * *

The third time, Draco takes Harry’s Muggle jeans. 

And he’s a ferrety little ferret faced liar, because he’s complained about the jeans in question since the first time he saw them. 

“How did you get the knees so dirty?” Draco said. He looked the picture of aristocratic disdain with his nose all crinkled up like that. “Have you been sucking cock al fresco?”

“We’re coming back to that,” Harry had said (and they did), and then shut Draco up with a nice, long snog when he started on the rips and the faded denim and the fit-so-tragically-loose-I-can’t-even-see-your-arse.

And now Draco is wearing them, slung low on his hips as he shrugs off his coat. 

“You fuck,” Harry says, partially because those are his and Draco is an insufferable hypocrite, and partially (mostly) because the jeans are so big around Draco’s waist that Harry can see the cuspated jut of his hip bones and the little silver ring in his navel. 

Draco looks down, all feigned innocence. He says, “Don’t you think they suit me?”

Harry mutters, “I’ll suit you in a bloody minute,” and pulls him by the wrist towards the men’s, where he sucks him off so hard and fast that Draco bites the crook of his elbow till it bleeds.

* * *

The fourth time, Harry takes Draco’s slippers. And Draco’s feet are cold. 

“Those are mine. Mine,” Draco tells Herbert, looking down at his chest as he shuffles around his cold flat in the thickest socks he could find. 

He knows he’s not exactly a sentient being, but Draco would like to think Herbert looks sympathetic all the same. 

The rugs on his tiled floors are for purposes more aesthetic than comfort — it’s bloody cold in the mornings, and without Harry to tangle his legs around or order to the kitchen so he doesn’t have to brave it himself, he needs. His. Slippers. 

The thing about it that’s most troubling, really, is that, was Draco less of an idiot (Pansy’s words) who had just chosen floorboards for his flat and not mosaic tile (because he lives in Britain and not fucking Madrid, so on,) he probably wouldn’t mind that Harry has pilfered from him yet again. 

Harry’s stopped asking for his jumper back. Or rather, extorting Draco until it’s returned. And Draco’s content in leaving his tie wound around the wrought iron posts of Harry’s bed, and Harry thinks his jeans look better on Draco than they ever did on him. 

It’s hideous, really, because Draco has never even liked sharing (Draco does not share, in fact), but somehow he’s ended up with a wardrobe that’s more Harry’s than it is his, and the black trousers that flatter his arse so brilliantly are gone, and so is the faded Quidditch jersey he only wears when he’s ill. And he doesn’t even mind, because he knows when he goes to Harry’s flat he’ll find it all stuffed into the antique dressing table drawers taken from Sirius’ room at Grimmauld Place, smelling like Harry and his warm, sapid laundry soap. 

Draco says to Herbert, “This is your fault.” 

* * *

This time, Draco takes Harry’s dressing gown. He’s wearing it when he emerges from the bathroom, water still sluicing off the delicate ridge of his nose, off his hair and down his back because he never dries himself properly. (I have sensitive skin. I’ll break out in hives. Harry knows it’s just an excuse to lounge naked on the couch while he “air dries”, but whatever.)

“You’re dripping all over the carpet,” Harry says, leaning on his palms against the door frame of his bedroom.

Draco says, looking around at him, “Ah. My sweet. I was just coming to fetch you.”

“Why?”

“I’ve drawn us a bath,” says Draco.

Harry had planned on making some tea and watching Come Dine With Me, perhaps Floo calling Ron and Hermione to see how the renovations on their flat are coming along. But Draco is all wet and warm and glossy, and smelling like the expensive bubbles he refuses to bathe without.

Harry lets Draco lead him to the bathroom, where the floor is wet with his footprints and the air is thick with perfume and soft, cradling breeze from the cracked open window.

“This is my dressing gown,” Harry says, stepping closer so he can slide it from Draco’s slight shoulders.

Draco reaches for Harry’s flies. “And these are my knickers, you troll,” he says, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband.

Once both disrobed (Harry’s shirt flung over the counter, the pilfered dressing gown puddled on the floor, both of them hard and flushing) they step into the bath. Draco likes the water scalding despite his dainty skin, but he must know Harry prefers not to be boiled alive because it’s just sultry, just warm.

Gold fretted shadows slide over Draco’s face as they settle, legs tangled at the knees, Harry tracing shapes around the delicate knob of Draco’s ankle.

Harry feels elastic in the water, melting with pale, gauzy limbs draped all over him.

“C’mere,” Draco says. “I want to wash your hair.”

When Harry hands him a bottle, he says, “Not with that utter swill. Mine.”

Draco means his shampoo, but Harry knows he means him a little bit, too.

A soft, pleasurable thrill runs through him. Harry loves the smell of Draco’s shampoo. He thinks it smells like wide open spaces, like walking over the crest of a hill. He also thinks it smells a bit like spices, like star anise and cinnamon, and lemon zest and sage. The scent on the bottle reads Cedar, which, okay. Fine.

Draco uncaps it, squeezes a pearlescent puddle into his palm. He sets himself on Harry’s lap, and takes his cock slowly, sweetly, chest to chest, with his fingers twisted in Harry’s hair.

Harry rocks him in the water, his head bowed into Draco’s collar bones as he laves and rinses, soft and soft and slow.

* * *

most important things in my life (in ascending order)

friends 

family

harry being hot for Draco in low slung trousers

draco having a belly button ring that is exposed in said trousers 

[heliotropehotch]

distance - s.r. x gn!reader

Summary: idiots in love realize the truth after a bad date and some snooping through personal journals.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since I created any Spencer content so here you go! Thanks to all of you for your support on my first Aaron smut!!! Please leave any feedback or requests in my inbox I just love interacting with you guys<3

CW: jealous, unwanted sexual advances (just comments and words, a little bit of groping) idiots in love, snooping through journals, adorable fluff

Masterlist

author: author

words: 1589

happy reading!

The date was a complete bust. While they had really tried to enjoy it, it wasn’t like Y/N could ignore their rude tone, entitled attitude, and blatant disrespect for their boundaries. The guy had already tried to grope them three different times before they even got to the restaurant.

As their date progresses, John’s, or was it Jim, advances got more aggressive, making it clear to them that he only wanted one thing.

“Why don’t we just pay now and head back to my place?” His smirk curled unsettling across his face.

Y/N cleared their throat, fingers curling around the ends of their shirt in brace of the conversation. “I’m not sure I feel comfortable with that.”

His brows furrowed, smirk quickly dropping. “Not comfortable? Ugh, I know you’d be uptight.”

“Excuse me?”

“I agreed to go on this boring ass date, the least I can get is laid. But now you’re a fucking prude, after all this. I’m leaving.” He threw his napkin on the table before pushing his chair back loudly and brushing past the table.

For a minute, Y/N sat there shocked, staring blankly at the now empty seat across from them. They looked around, making sure that their date’s little explosion hadn’t drawn the attention of the neighboring tables. A shaky sigh left their mouth, pulling cash from their wallet and leaving well enough for both meals.

Spencer wouldn’t do this, they thought. Pain coursed through them, knowing he was the reason they agreed to this date in the first place. Spencer would be kind.

They reached for their phone, turning their car on and pulling out to get as far away from that place as possible.

“Hello?” His voice echoed through the speaker of the phone.

“Spence,” their voice was soft and saddened. “Can I come over? Please?”

“I thought you were on a date.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but wasn’t sure how well he was doing it.”

Their voice was heavy, trembling with tears caught in their throat. “He just wanted to get laid, Spence. Stormed out when I said no.”

Spencer Reid swore that he had never felt more anger than he had then. “He did what?”

“Can I just come over, please? I- I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Of course, Y/N/N,” he sighed, heart rate increasing with a new kind of panic. “Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, I’ve got my car, I’ll be there soon.” They sighed, indignant of the evening behind them. “Thank you, Spence.”

“Of course.”

---

When his best friend (and secret love interest) had arrived at his door with remnants of tears tracking down their cheeks, Spencer immediately felt guilty for even being angry at them for going on a date.

They pushed forward, wrapping their arms around his waist and burying their head in his chest. He squeezed them, rubbing small circles on their back between their shoulder blades. His heart clenched as he felt their lungs stutter with tears. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

He pulled them into his apartment, thumbs brushing excess tears off their cheeks before setting them on his couch. He darted off to the kitchen, pouring a cup of their tea he keeps handy before settling next to them on the worn letter.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He threw his arm over the back of the seat.

“He called me a ‘fucking prude.’” They sniffled into their mug. “Said I was a boring date.”

Spencer’s hand clenched at his side in anger. “You don’t deserve that.”

They shook their head, settling the warm mug down on the coffee table. “Maybe he’s right, Spence.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean every relationship I’ve been in just ends with me getting left behind because they’ve grown tired of me.”

“Y/N,” he took their hands in his, something he was only comfortable doing with a few people. “Those people didn’t understand how amazing you were, and couldn’t see what they were leaving behind.”

A weak smile was sent in his direction. “Come on, let’s distract you.”

The opening credits to Doctor Who were an oddly comforting sound as Y/N sunk further into Spencer’s couch and his side. Heart racing, as it always did when they cuddled (platonically), his arms tightened around them and prayed his heart wouldn’t pound enough to disturb them.

An episode, or two passed, he wasn’t really paying attention to the screen. Their breath had settled into a steady rhythm, both of their bodies shifting to lay on the couch. The soft pressure of the air leaving their mouth tickled the thin cloth of his t-shirt, lulling him into his own sleep.

The sunlight trickled through his curtains, awakening him to the presence that still laid on his chest. He shifted carefully, releasing them from his hold. He sighed peacefully, watching their undisturbed form continue to rest.

He shuffled quietly around the apartment, resuming his own morning routine as quietly as he could. He pulled his notebook out of his work bag, writing down his thoughts to un-jumble his mind as he sat at his kitchen counter. He left a sticky note on Y/N’s phone, letting them know he went to grab food before retreating quietly out of the apartment.

When Y/N woke up, they noticed their best friend’s absence immediately, frowning at the possibility they had made him uncomfortable. Their spine elongated as they stretched from the rough support of the couch, taking account of their surroundings and the note that was left for them.

They were used to spending nights at Spencer’s honestly. Too many late nights talking, too many sleepovers. They found their way to the shower, washing off last night’s emotions with an unexpected ease. However, they grabbed a t-shirt from Spencer’s closet, too tired to put on the fancy clothes they had on yesterday.

Y/N had yet to be by themself in Spencer’s apartment, always spending time with him whenever they were there. Yet now, they could properly look at his decor without fear that he would think there was judgement. The books that littered the apartment were the perfect amount of clutter, much like how Spencer’s mind usually seemed to be. Eventually, inevitably, their eyes found the journal.

They didn’t mean to snoop, not really. But having your name written on a journal would draw anyone’s curiosity. Y/N’s heart pounded as they read the words over and over again.

I don’t understand how anyone could treat Y/N the way that dick did last night. Why doesn’t anyone see their beauty like me? I want them to be happy, even if it’s not with me.

They missed the sound of the apartment door unlocking. Or Spencer opening the door and crossing the threshold.

“Hey I got your favorite-” He paused, eyes widening at the open journal he left on the counter.

“What are you doing?” Spencer rushed out in a panic as he closed the door to his apartment, stumbling onto the sight that caused his stomach to drop, and his grip to loosen on the pastry bag.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

“That’s not the point, Spence.”

“Y/N-”

“Spencer Reid, I have sat here for years, so hopelessly in love with you and I had to find out from a fucking open journal that you feel the same? How is that fair?”

Spencer took a step back in shock, with his hands falling aimlessly to his sides. “You love me?”

“I mean even when you liked JJ I just sat there quietly because I knew that she was more important to you, but I wanted to scream every time I caught you look at her. And don’t even get me started on the whole Emily thing because I love JJ but I swear I’ve never wanted to slap her more for hurting you that way because of course I care about you Spence, how could have not known that-”

And while Spencer had been in love with them, and the way they talked with their hands when they rambled, he needed nothing more than to shut them up. He smiled as he pressed his lips against theirs, their mumbled words fading into sighs as their kiss continued. His arms wrapped sweetly around their middle, enjoying the familiarity of his shirt of their body and pulling their body further into his. He pulled back when they couldn’t breathe, and rested his head against theirs. “I love you, too, by the way.”

“How could you not tell me?” They smiled, happy to be breathing the same air as him. He chuckled, squeezing them affectionately.

“How could you not tell me? Y/N I just picked you up from a date.”

“Well, it was only an attempt to move on.” They laughed softly, combing their fingers through his curly mop. “How long, Spence?”

“Hmm?” His eyes had drifted closed, too peaceful to move.

“How long have we been loving each other from a distance, Spencer? How long have we both been pining over something we could have had this whole time?”

“I’ve been in love with you since you walked through the door.”

They giggled, looking into Spencer’s eyes. “Who knew you were such a sap. I expect you to let me read everything about me in that journal.”

He laughed, squeezing them tightening against his chest and pecking the side of their forehead. “You wish.”

[cyberwolfwrites-fanfiction]

quiet day

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30435417

words: 4,462

summary:

In which Peter has his quiet days and some bad days.

And meets some people on those days.

(Might become more than a one-shot in the future.)

Peter sighed in relief as the car door shut behind him, muting the sound of the rain and hundreds of teenagers rushing out of the school. The post-school day rush usually didn't bother him anymore, but he'd woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. He'd been up all night finishing his English essay after a particularly rough patrol, and he'd woken up nearly an hour before his alarm was due to ring because of the couple two floors down fighting.

It wasn't just the sleep deprivation that had him all out of sorts, either. Living with little to no sleep was the life of a high school student (and a friendly neighbourhood superhero), and was relatively easy to deal with. However, Mr and Mrs Fights-A-Lot's loud disagreement had set the mood for Peter's day—loud and intense.

Ever since the spider bite, there were days where his senses seemed to be dialled up to eleven (more so than they already were, that was). Every little noise would just seem just a bit too loud, just a bit too grating on his ears, the usual smells of New York would make his stomach churn, the sun would just seem a little too bright and the clinical-like lights at school just a little too intense. The day, most often than not, ended up with him curling up in a ball of misery with a migraine.

Today was no different despite the rainy day. Rainy days usually calmed him. They meant curling up in Ben’s old chair with Ben’s old blanket, with Ben’s special hot chocolate (the secret was a small scoop of vanilla or chocolate ice cream), and movie marathons with May (since Ben was gone). Recently, the rain typically meant a reprieve from the loud sounds and smells of New York, but today all it managed to do was make every bad smell, every clinical-like light in school, and every sound seem so much worse and grating against his senses.

“Hey, Happy,” Peter mumbled after crawling into the car. He curled up on the leather seat and rested his forehead against the cool glass of the blackout windows, which blissfully blocked out most of the grey-filtered light from outside.

“Hey,” Happy greeted him. He’d become much more friendly with Peter ever since they (meaning Peter and Tony) started to have lab days together at the Tower and Happy ended up driving Peter to and from school at least three days a week. “Don’t forget your seatbelt.”

Peter fumbled with the seatbelt as Happy pulled away from the school before curling back up in a ball and huddling into his hoodie.

As Happy’s car was modified by Tony, that meant that the windows were tinted, it was sound-proofed, and it somehow managed to smell like fresh, cool air. All of this was bliss to Peter’s oversensitive senses, and by the time they reached the Tower, Peter had managed to drift into a light sleep.

"Kid, you mind if I drop you off out front?" Peter startled at the sound of Happy’s voice and his migraine came back full-force. "Boss needs me to pick up some things for him."

"S'fine," Peter mumbled groggily, having to force the words out as he tried to gather his bearings. He slung his bag over his shoulder and reluctantly dragged himself out of the car and into the cold downpour outside. He shivered and pulled up his hood, but it was no use—it was raining cats and dogs outside and he was already soaked through the moment he stepped out of the car. Due to this, Peter didn't bother rushing into the Tower, simply not able to muster up the energy to do anything other than shuffle to the door.

It opened at his presence and shut behind him, gaining the attention of some of the staff. One of the desk clerks—the one Peter could never get along with—glared at the puddle of water he was trailing in and made a rude comment under her breath that he could hear clearly despite his migraine. Peter would have apologized for the mess but he couldn't form the words; it felt like they were lodged in the cotton-like feeling that had taken residence in his mouth. Instead, he just self-consciously tugged his wet hoodie sleeves over his hands and headed to an elevator tucked away in a corner of the room. It was one of the only ones that had access to Tony's personal labs, the Avengers's old floors, and the penthouse.

Like the front doors, it opened at his presence, but only because Friday gave him access. As far as Peter was aware, only Tony, Ms Potts, Happy, May, Colonel Rhodes (who Peter had yet to properly meet), and himself had access to this elevator. It had drawn him some odd looks when he first started hanging out with Tony, but now no one gave him a second look.

"Hello, Peter," Friday greeted him once the doors slid shut behind him. Peter closed his eyes and leaned against the cool metal doors, trying to ignore how the walls threatened to crowd around him.

"Hi," Peter managed to force out. His voice was quiet and strained, even to his own ears. It felt like he was being strangled.

"Where would you like to go, Peter? The penthouse, perhaps?" Friday suggested with a tinge of worry in her synthetic Irish-lilted voice. While not as warm or curious as Karen was, Friday was still kind and caring in her own way, even if her voice tended to sound reserved at times. She really only spoke openly to those Tony was on good terms with, and Peter could still remember the cold yet snarky comment she made to Senator Ross when he kept hounding Tony for something about the New Accords.

"Mhm," Peter hummed as a response, thankful that Friday was intelligent enough to not need verbal commands, which meant that he didn’t have to force more words out of his mouth. He tugged at the wet sleeves of his sweatshirt again in an attempt to self-soothe the anxious feeling creeping up inside of him. The hoodie was big on him even though it had belonged to Tony when the man was his age. Peter wondered if Tony had gotten it in a few sizes too large to bring him comfort from being away from home and attending college where everyone was older than him.

The thought made him feel marginally better.

It didn’t take long for the elevator to reach the penthouse and Peter clenched his eyes shut as the lights automatically turned on, hissing out a pained breath. Without having to ask, Friday automatically dimmed the lights for him. Instead of forcing himself to speak, Peter rested his fingertips against his lips before pushing his hand down, signing “Thank you” to Friday since it would’ve been rude not to say anything since she thoughtfully dimmed the lights for him.

“You are welcome, Peter,” Friday said, her voice much quieter than earlier. She had no doubt picked up on the fact that his senses were overwhelmed and he felt gratitude well up in him. “Would you like me to inform Boss of your arrival?”

Peter just shook his head and stumbled in the direction of the living room. He dropped his backpack and shivered slightly before his eyes fell on one of Tony’s hoodies laying on the back of the couch. After a few moments of deliberation (in which he determined whether it was worth the effort of making his heavy limbs move to pull off his wet hoodie), Peter just stumbled over to an armchair and pulled a throw blanket over himself. It smelled like Tony—coffee, motor oil, and a faint whiff of no-doubt expensive cologne—and it had Peter relaxing marginally, the behind his eyes almost seeming to dull at the face of the scent he’d started to associate with home and safety. He cuddled into the warmth of the throw, not able to bring himself to care that he was getting it and the armchair wet, and allowed his eyes to drift shut.

Only to be startled awake after what felt like five minutes. Peter couldn’t help the frustrated whine from leaving his throat, and to his horror, he felt his eyes prick with tears. He was so freaking tired and frustrated and he had a migraine and his senses felt wrung-out and he was so exhausted and every time he tried to sleep, someone woke him up! First, it was the couple from a few doors down, then it was Happy (not that Peter blamed him, the man had only been doing his job), and now it was whoever was talking extremely loudly.

When the voices became louder, Peter huddled into his blanket and sank further into the chair, hoping that it would swallow him up and make the voices stop. He clenched his eyes shut at the pounding in his skull and wished that whoever was entering the penthouse would shut up.

“Why are the lights so dim?” an unfamiliar voice asked.

“Fri?” That was Tony. Something in Peter eased at the sound of the man’s voice but his eyes continued to burn and his throat tightened.

“I believe Mr Parker is dealing with a ‘code eleven’, Boss,” Friday informed Tony, her voice as hushed as it had been earlier.

There was a pause and then Tony rounded the corner. “Pete?” Tony asked as he spotted him curled up on the chair. Peter wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t. It was like his voice had been stolen like he was Ariel from The Little Mermaid and he swallowed against the tightness in his throat as he peered up at Tony with stinging eyes.

“Intense day, bud?” Tony asked him, his voice hushed.

Peter’s jaw wobbled as he worked it open and closed, trying to form the words to tell Tony he was fine. Tony didn’t have to worry about him, it was only a little headache, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He wanted to let Tony know that he was fine, that he was just being silly, and that they should go down to the lab like they were supposed to do. They had a project due in a week for his internship—it had been made legit a few months ago—because they were already so behind. Last week, a wrench had slipped out of Tony’s hands and had clattered against the metal table, and to Peter’s enhanced senses, it had sounded like a gunshot. He had frozen, his mind flashing back to Ben, and he’d freaked out. They hadn’t gotten anything done for the rest of the day because Peter had been a baby and cried.

God, he was pathetic. Tony probably hated him, it was his fault that he would get in trouble for not turning in the project. Ms Potts was a real stickler for that since Tony spent so much time messing around with him in the lab. He couldn’t even make his vocal cords work to apologize.

Some of his inner turmoil must have been visible on his face because Tony crouched down and cupped the side of his neck with a warm hand and said, "No, don't apologise. You don't need to say anything, Pete. You're allowed to have bad days. Okay, bud? I'm not mad. If you’re upset about the project, don’t worry, I can move the date back."

Peter curled in on himself at Tony’s words—so understanding and nonjudgemental—and suddenly everything seemed so much more intense. The sounds of the Tower exploded in his eardrums, the whirring of machines, the ticking of clocks, and the buzzing of the lights sounding like crackling thunder. The minimal lights in the room burned his retinas and he clenched his eyes shut, which only made the discomfort of his damp clothes more apparent. His wet jeans grated against his skin and he felt like his sweatshirt, which clung to him, was suffocating him. He threw the throw blanket off him, nearly ripping it in the process, hoping that it would lessen the suffocating feeling.

His exhale shuddered, not really a sob but nearly there, and his hands clamped over his ears to try and muffle the suddenly intense sounds. Tony muttered something that Peter couldn’t decipher as he moved into the chair beside him—the armchair he was in was massive, almost as if it had been made for the Hulk, and there was plenty of space for Tony to sit next to him—and he choked out a sound as Tony’s warm, calloused hand tightened on his neck for a moment before he was being pulled into the man’s side. Peter’s curled into the warmth that was Tony, his fingers grabbing ahold of the threadbare fabric of his old band tee—the man must have been in the lab before he came up to the penthouse, otherwise he’d be dressed in office clothes—and he tried to stop the whine that was building in his throat.

One of Tony’s hands carded through his wet, messy curls before a set of headphones slid over his ears, blocking nearly every little intense sound from Peter’s ears. The relief from his most troublesome sense made it feel as if he blacked out for a moment and it took him a moment to realize that he was trembling. His fingers tightened in Tony’s shirt and his shoulders shuddered in a mixture of relief and the cold feeling in his skin and the anxious, panicky feelings that had been running through his veins like adrenaline for what felt like days.

Tony’s thumb rubbed against the corner of his jaw in a soothing motion and slowly as the panicky feeling drained from him, he loosened the tight hold he had of Tony’s shirt and the furrows between his brows smoothed. His fingers loosened their tight grip on Tony’s threadbare shirt, lying flat against his chest to feel the man’s steady heartbeat.

Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud.

Tony’s chest lifted and fell against Peter’s hands as he inhaled and exhaled, seeming almost exaggerated. Instinctively, Peter began to sync his breathing with Tony’s. When his parents had first died, and when Skip happened, May and Ben had taken him to a child therapist. He had been prone to panic attacks and one of the ways his therapist taught him to calm himself was to sync his breathing with someone else’s. And so, feeling the expanding and contracting of Tony’s lungs beneath his hands, Peter’s own unsteady breathing began to level out.

After a few more minutes of feeling Tony’s soothing heartbeat and matching his breathing, Peter reluctantly leaned away from him and slid the headphones off one ear.

“Stai bene?” Tony murmured. Are you okay? Peter translated easily. He swallowed and tried to speak but the words still caught in his throat. Tony’s thumb brushed against the corner of his jaw again, and understanding that Tony didn’t need him to speak, Peter just nodded. He tugged at his sweatshirt sleeves and made a slight face as the damp fabric dragged against his cold and numb skin. Tony noticed. “Your clothes are wet,” he said with a frown, rubbing a hand against his arm in an attempt to warm him up. “Aren’t you cold?”

Peter sniffled slightly and he looked up when a sweatshirt—a red threadbare MIT one—moved into his vision. He started at the sight of who he recognized to be Colonel Rhodes, otherwise known as War Machine—or did he go by Iron Patriot?—or, most importantly, Tony’s best friend. The man wasn’t wearing his War Machine armour and he wasn’t wearing a military uniform, instead, he was in a long-sleeved thermal shirt and a pair of jeans, which were encased by the man’s leg braces, but Peter could easily recognize him from the pictures Tony had around the penthouse.

“Here,” the man said in a gentle voice. Peter blinked at him and realized that the unfamiliar voice he’d heard belonged to him, and now that he thought about it, he was probably who Tony asked to get his soundproof headphones as he was pretty sure they had been in his bedroom. His jaw worked slightly, he wanted to say thanks, but Tony did it for him.

“Thanks, Rhodey,” he said, clapping the man on the shoulder when he stood. Tony then turned to Peter, who slid his soundproof headphones around his neck. “Why don’t you go shower and change, bud? Those wet clothes don’t look comfortable.”

Realizing that Tony was giving him out, at least for a little while to gather himself in private, Peter did as he instructed, taking the sweatshirt from his hands and heading down the hall to the room that was designated as his. His shoulders met his ears as he felt eyes on him and he felt embarrassed for the event Colonel Rhodes just witnessed. Pathetic, his mind whispered. He tried to shove the thought away.

“What’s a ‘code eleven’?” Colonel Rhodes asked when his door closed behind him. Peter could hear the concerned words easily and he stilled, wondering what Tony’s response would be.

“The kid has bad days,” Tony told him in a soft voice. “He’s been stressed recently and he’s got sensitive senses, so a bright light or a loud noise probably triggered a sensory overload. He’s probably been dealing with it all day.” There was a beat of silence, an exasperated sigh, and Peter had a mental image of Tony running a hand down his face. “He’ll be fine after some rest and quiet.”

The tightness in Peter’s throat had diminished when Tony calmed him earlier, but it tightened again and his eyes pricked with tears at how understanding the man was. He’d easily guessed what was wrong, what had most likely set him off, and knew how to calm him down. He swallowed thickly and stopped listening as their conversation turned to other things.

Peter’s shower was longer than it usually was. He stood in the dark—the bright lights and the buzzing sounds of the lightbulbs were still too much for his eyes and ears, even dimmed—and allowed himself to cry. He knew that the tightness and the emotions wouldn’t just go away and that Tony wouldn’t comment on the redness of his eyes when he got out. Colonel Rhodes seemed too polite to comment on it, either.

Instead of pulling on one of his own hoodies or another shirt, Peter tugged on the hoodie Colonel Rhodes had grabbed for him, the one that he’d debated on wearing earlier. It smelled like Tony’s cologne and dryer sheets, and Peter figured that Tony had probably only worn it for a few minutes before taking it off. The comforting smell threatened to make tears prick in his eyes again but he’d all but cried himself out in the shower, so he just pulled the sleeves over his hands.

When he tugged on a pair of sweatpants and some socks, Peter just stood in his bedroom, debating on what he should do. Tony and Colonel Rhodes were talking in the other room, and knowing that Tony had been eager for his friend’s visit, he debated on whether or not he should bother them. But Tony had wanted him to meet Colonel Rhodes, that was part of the reason he was here today, and so he grabbed his soundproof headphones just in case and shuffled out of the room quietly.

They didn’t hear him walking down the hall—Peter had had a lot of practice being stealthy so he didn’t wake up Aunt May after patrol—and so he had a few minutes to watch the two men interact. They were talking about something inconsequential, simply chatting amongst themselves about something. Peter caught Ms Potts’s name, so they might’ve been talking about the company or how Ms Potts was. Tony was smiling that warm, happy smile he got when he was alone and not in public, and the sight of it made the tight feeling in Peter’s chest lighten. Tony was here, he was happy. A dark thought threatened to cross his mind, about how he was a burden and that Tony didn’t want him here, but Peter shoved it away. He was tired of the bad thoughts already. Tired of everything, really, but especially at the depressing thoughts. He was here because Tony wanted him here and that was what mattered.

“Hey, kid.” Tony happened to glance at the hallway and spotted him. He had a slight, reassuring but concerned smile and his eyes scanned Peter, looking as if he was looking for a hidden injury. Peter gave Tony an awkward quirk of his lips and he tugged at his hoodie sleeves nervously when Colonel Rhodes looked at him.

Peter waved slightly and Colonel Rhodes smiled, seeming a little amused. Tony urged him further into the room.

“How about a proper introduction?” Tony said rhetorically. “Peter, this is my best friend Rhodey, otherwise known at War Machine, so try not to fanboy too hard.” Peter rolled his eyes slightly even if he was fanboying on the inside, now that he could think clearly. War Machine~! Tony turned to Rhodey, throwing an arm over Peter’s shoulders. “Rhodey, this is The Kid.”

There were capital letters, Peter could hear it. Colonel Rhodes could, too, if the amused smile on his face was anything to go by.

Colonel Rhodes held his hand out for a handshake, which Peter took. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter, Tony’s told me a lot about you,” he said. Peter glanced at Tony in surprise. He’s told Colonel Rhodes about him? Peter opened his mouth to say something, but the words got caught in his throat. He still couldn’t talk. He didn’t really want to, either.

"Speechless, are we?” Tony teased lightly, though the glint of concern in his eyes told Peter that he understood. He’d had his own quiet days before. “Alright, kiddie, so I was thinking that we could have a movie day today,” Tony said, changing the subject. “Rhodey and I were thinking about the new Harry Potter movie and pizza, you in?”

Peter grinned and made a thumbs up. He’d been wanting to watch Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them since it came out.

Tony grinned back and ruffled his head. “Good, go take a seat. I’ll get the popcorn. You too, Rhodes.”

Peter followed Colonel Rhodes into the living room, curling up in his usual spot on the couch. There was a slightly awkward silence before Colonel Rhodes shifted in his seat, turning to face him.

“You’re good for him, you know,” Colonel Rhodes said. Peter looked at him with furrowed brows and the man elaborated. “Tony. He was a mess after Germany, I was afraid that he’d go back to drinking.” Peter frowned slightly; he knew of Tony’s past, it had come up often enough in the news and in magazines when he was younger and he’d been an avid Tony Stark fan even before the man became Iron Man, but he couldn’t imagine Tony turning to alcohol. The man barely drank around him, maybe a beer or two during movie nights, but there was no expensive, fancy liquor anywhere in the penthouse. Colonel Rhodes caught his expression and he smiled somewhat sadly. “I don’t like the thought, either. I was kind of surprised when he told me that he was taking a break from hard liquor, but then he told me about you and I understood.”

Peter was confused. What did he mean?

“Tony’s never really been one for big responsibilities,” Colonel Rhodes told him. “He’s good at his work, brilliant at it, but it was more of a chore at times than not. The first big thing that he felt responsible for was Iron Man, he felt he had a duty to protect after all of the lives he’d taken.” Peter was slightly conflicted. He could understand the duty to protect, he’d become Spider-Man for that very purpose, but he disagreed that Tony had been the one to kill all those people with his weapons. His name might have been on them, but he hadn’t been the one to fire them, to target all of those people. Colonel Rhodes gave him an understanding smile; he no doubt agreed with Peter’s thoughts.

“Then came Pepper and the Avengers, but you saw how that last one turned out. Helping me with my braces distracted him for a while, but I was afraid of what would happen when I was doing fine on my own. Then he surprised me by starting to talk about you. Eventually, he’d be mentioning you in all of our phone calls; ‘I’ve got this intern, he’s brilliant,’ or ‘The kid’s coming over today, we’re making a robot,’ or ‘Peter came up with a good way to stop your braces from locking up after standing for too long.’” Colonel Rhodes rapped his knuckles against his braces and said, “Thanks for that, by the way, they haven’t locked up since Tony upgraded them.”

Peter’s neck burned at the sincere thanks and he smiled shyly. Colonel Rhodes became serious again. “The whole point of this thing is that you’re good for him, Peter. He’s as sober as he’s ever been, healthy as he’s ever been, has been sleeping through the nights, and he’s not having as many three-day lab benders as he used to have. So thank you, Peter.”

Peter swallowed thickly. “H-He’s helped me, too,” he managed to say around the tightness in his throat. The only thing that belied Colonel Rhodes’s surprise at him talking was a single blink.

“You’ve been through more than the average teenager, haven’t you?” Colonel Rhodes said with keen eyes. Peter nodded and the man smiled slightly. “Well, then I’m glad that you’ve helped each other.”

In the kitchen, the popcorn stopped popping and the microwave beeped. Tony came out seconds later and raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “What were you two talking about?” Tony said suspiciously.

“I was just talking to Peter about my leg braces,” Colonel Rhodes said, scooting over to give Tony room to sit. Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly as if calling his friend’s bluff but sat down, giving them each of their snacks.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Friday, can you play Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?”

As the opening scenes of the movie played, Peter and Colonel Rhodes exchanged a look of understanding. Peter still didn’t feel well, he was still tired and felt wrung-out, but knowing that he’d helped Tony more than he thought made him feel better. He leaned against the man and stole a handful of popcorn, smiling slightly at Tony’s playful indignant squawk.

This one-shot took me a ridiculous amount of time to write! I got the idea like two weeks ago, started writing it like two weeks ago, and ended up only adding a few hundred words each day, sometimes only like thirty or so. I'm happy I got it done, and while I don't particularly like the ending, I like the whole feel of this.

Here are some scenes that I cut out but couldn't bring myself to completely delete:

1.

"Tony cares about you in a way that I knew he was afraid to feel—Has he told you about Howard?” Colonel Rhodes asked. Peter frowned slightly at the mention of Howard. Tony hadn’t explicitly told Peter what his father had been like, only a few mentions here and there, but Peter knew how to use context clues and how to extrapolate data, so he nodded. “Well, he likes to say that he doesn’t like children, that he’s not good with them, but he ‘s afraid of turning out like his father.”

Peter balked at the thought. Tony wasn’t like Howard!

“Exactly,” Colonel Rhodes said with another look of understanding. “Tony’s afraid of turning out like his dad so he tried to stay away from children, but somehow, he got attached to you. You’re making him happy, happier than I thought he’d ever be after everything that happened."

2.

Tony was murmuring soothing words to him, some in English but most in Italian. The man had taken to speaking to him in Italian ever since he heard Peter talking to May in the language. Peter had first learned the language when he’d moved in with May and Ben; it had been a way for them to distract him from the grief and he’d gotten over his selective mutism—this was a common thing for him, the not speaking, not being able to speak—by learning it.

“Starai bene, mimmo,” Tony was murmuring. You’ll be alright, baby.

The whine Peter desperately tried to hold onto was pulled from his throat at the phrase. It was something May always said to him when he was sad or upset, but it felt different coming from Tony. May was kind of obligated to care for him—not that it made her comfort any less comforting or appreciated—but Tony was Tony.

3.

A tear fell down the bridge of his nose. "He said I killed Ben," Peter said in a soft, quiet voice, "and that he died to get away from me. And my parents, too. And that-that May left for her conference or training seminar or whatever it is to get away from me. Everyone I love dies or leaves me, Tony, I don't want you to go, too."

4.

"Oh. Quiet day, baby?" Tony asked softly, the pet name May usually used seeming to slip out.

[thegoldielocks28]

“SO… you think I’m hot?” - Mathilda and Sergei~

Title: “you think I'm hot” Pairing: Mathilda Alster and Sergei Petrov/Spencer Petrov AN: Written for a writing challenge, for Syfien. Nothing more than a soft moment for the cute couple ~ Hopefully it makes sense ;D

The sun is bright against the almost cloudless sky on this hot summer's day. The humidity makes the heat feel hotter than it actually is, and most people out and about carry either electrical hand-fans or more traditional paddle-fans while crowding the soft drink vending machines that conveniently seem to be just about everywhere.

Japan´s summers are something else.

Mathilda has always been a spring and summer person, enjoying how good weather allows her to dress in some of her favorite clothes more comfortably. Shorts, skirts, blouses and cute tops. Even dresses at times. Today, she's even wearing a big hat, shielding her face from the direct sun. Her pale cheeks are decorated with light freckles, dots that in her case only appear in summer. The summer back home in the UK is a lot milder than those here in Asia, but she can't say she misses the wind or common and heavy rain that much.

Mathilda`s plans are a bit different today. Hence her being slightly dressed up. After several nights of little sleep, and several days when she lost her words upon just seeing him, she managed to ask her crush if he wanted to spend some time together. Just her and him.

They already have, several times, met up by coincidence in the hotel-like apartment building rented for them during a long season of blading. For example while making tea in the shared kitchen. Making small meals. Sitting on the sofa, reading. Watching the matches on TV after they happened. Together with their fellow bladers, teams and friends.

Lately, … ending up staying in the joined area late until they were almost alone, or the only ones left.

Mathilda´s freckled cheeks turn a shade pink upon thinking of her date. Looking at her wristwatch she realizes she´s early, like she always is when nervous. Being late would leave a bad impression now, wouldn't it? The pink haired woman spends about 10 minutes gazing at people, meeting the eyes of polite fans a few times. Apparently, she's quite popular in Japan.

There he is.

Sergei.

Mathilda shifts so she´s facing him. Pale, tall and handsome. Dirty blond short hair. Strong nose and jaw. The heat seems to have made the Russian have to drop the vest he is always wearing, and today he has just a pair of cargo pants, a nicely fit black t-shirt and boots. Revealing his strong chest, and arms. The man is still fully clothed but the sight of him has her skin turn hot. Many seem to assume the tallest member of the Russian team looks least good, but… Mathilda´s eyes has never strayed, even if her attraction to him also didn't start with the way he looked in the first place.

“Hello.” Mathilda can't help but smile widely, then tries to calm herself down. “Hey.” Sergei answers, his voice deep and calm. Those steel grey eyes of his move over Mathilda. Just like she is used to seeing him with his vest, and hat, he is used to her own “battle gear”. Not a soft colored summer outfit, and just a little bit more effort with her hair and make up. All thanks to Julia. It's not like Mathilda doesn't care about those things, it's that she has always been someone who enjoys being without products as well. Mathilda likes being pretty, and Julia has helped her find a style that suits her well. Not as strong as Julia´s often so red and full lips.

“Let´s…” Mathilda starts, she needs to step up since she was the one to ask him out to hang out. “Start walking, the place I mentioned, is a bit further ahead.”

It's a nice summer's day. Birds chirp. Breeze is lovely. Mathilda is so happy she gets to spend today with her crush. Happy to realize they have actually gotten that far from being strangers, to having plans together like this. For a long while she had thought she wouldn't be able to pull it off but as always she didn't let her shyness stop her from at least trying. And there by her side is Sergei. The gentle giant.

The ones who are less happy about their growing friendship are people she could worry about later.

However, things change drastically just over a few minutes. Mathilda notices mid-sentence that something is wrong. Eyes darting up at the much taller man by her side only to get that gut feeling affirmed. Sergei has a queasy look on his face, and his forehead seems damp of sweat. He's squinting against the strong rays of the sun.

“Are you ok?” She tilts her head, looking up at him.

Sergei avoids looking at her. “Hm.” He makes a sound through lips pressed together. “You look… paler than normal.” Mathilda continues. “My body feels… heavy.” Sergei grumbles. “My head… “

“Did you get something to drink before this..?” Sergei looks at her. “No.”

Mathilda´s expression turns more concerned. Especially when guilt washes over her. She had asked Sergei to hang out with her outside in this hot weather that's so unlike what he's used to. Not considerate at all. All she had done was walk ahead chatting because of her nerves, while Sergei had been feeling ill.

If Sergei fainted here, or fainted anywhere, Mathilda would not be able to catch and support him properly because of his size. The man would hit the concrete ground and get hurt no matter if she just stood there, or had him fall over her as she tried to hold him. The mental image of the Russian falling backwards and hitting his head makes Mathilda´s throat go dry. Skull cracked open. Blood. Mathilda forces herself to stop thinking about that.

She extends her hand, and even if holding hands with him would normally make her a nervous mess, she takes his bigger one in hers and tugs at it.

“There's a bench over there..”

Sergei looks at her in silence for a long moment, as if it takes longer for him to register what she is saying in this heat, before he shifts his body and allows her to pull him along. Slow steps. A low, drawn out sound leaves Sergei´s lips as he lowers himself down on the bench. In the shade, it's still hot, but a clear difference from before. Mathilda´s eyes rest on his face for one long moment before she turns away.

“I´ll be back soon, promise.”

Mathilda jogs over to the vending machine closest to them, across the street, and digs in her pockets for some Japanese yen coins. Luckily, she has enough for drinks and after a bit of struggle to understand which drinks are cold and which are hot she manages to buy cans of cold bubble water. Both for Sergei. The moment she returns to Sergei´s side she hands him one of the bottles.

Sergei accepts the bottle, unscrews it and drinks almost greedily. Water running down the side of his mouth, down his jaw and onto that black t-shirt. Mathilda sits down by his side while trying to not seem too worried, even if her emotions are easy to read on her face. Sitting is better than her walking about.

After a moment of slow silence Sergei speaks up. “I am sorry, Mathilda.” His voice is tired. “I think I won't make it to the shop in this heat.”

Mathilda can hear in his voice that he had thought about what to say for a while. Nodding her head, she agrees, she understands. “Let's rest a bit then I will walk you back.” She says, wanting to know Sergei will be alright. After a moment of silence the girl nudges Sergei at his side before she gestures to her lap.

“What..?”

Mathilda´s cheeks turn pink. “One time offer… you know?”

Sergei´s eyes soften ever so slightly as he understands just what she is offering him. The gesture seems to make him feel a bit self-conscious, but not out of dislike. Perhaps because this is a first.

“...I am sweaty.” He says, voice low, as if it is the last negative point he can find.

“I don't mind.” Mathilda says patiently with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Even if her heart is beating really loudly in her chest she knows this isn't something to get excited for. Sergei feels sick, and needs to rest. If she can offer him some calm and comfort she´d be happy to.

Awkwardly, Sergei lowers his body onto the bench. His head soon rests in Mathilda´s lap. It's obvious this makes the man self-conscious, but after a few moments pass, he exhales deeply and his body grows heavier against her as he relaxes.

Could he have been worried about putting his weight on her?

Up this close, Mathilda notices just how grey his blue eyes really are. Almost silver, steel. His hair is on the border of being brown, dark dirty blonde. A strong jaw, big defined nose and thin pale lips. Those eyes close, as if the moment got too intimate, and Mathilda lets out a soft huff of a giggle.

He even has long eyelashes.

Mathilda is unaware of the slight wetness moving down the side of her face as they sit together so closely. She's getting a bit sweaty as well.

“You're hot.” His words are low, deep.

The way Sergei´s voice breaks the silence has her flinch, just a little bit. Mathilda feels a hot wave of emotion wash over her as she realizes what he just told her. Sergei´s cold, steel gray eyes, looks a bit confused at Mathilda´s reaction. Meeting his eyes, she realizes he wasn't trying to hit on her.

Maybe he had meant to say “warm.”

Mathilda blinks, luckily not feeling too bad about the mistake, and decides to lighten the mood. “So… I am hot..?” She chuckles quietly, reaching for the second bottle of water to help herself to some. Being a native speaker of English, she can understand how some would mistake words like that, having a second meaning appear out of mistake. The way Sergei looks at her was out of concern, not out of something else. “Hot” and “warm” can mean similar things, yet have different meanings in different situations.

“I mean…” Sergei must have realized his mistake. “You look… very warm too.”

At that, Mathilda can't help but let her smile grow wider and warmer as she looks down at the man resting in her lap. Her painted nails softly move into his short hair as she strokes him. Trying her best to make him relax, and feel better. How lovely it´d be if… they could do this in different circumstances. Resting together. Mathilda´s smile fades a little, and her lips turn playful.

“...I'd be ok with you thinking I'm hot.”

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV: A Charm of Carbuncles

Wolmeric Week Bonus: Ducklings

A/N: if you know me and you saw that bonus prompt and you didn’t think this would be the result, then i am very disappointed in you

Day 1 || Day 2 || Day 3 || Day 4 || Day 5 || Day 6 || Day 7 || Bonus!

RATING: G WORD COUNT: 1785 WARNINGS: Guess. Cross-posted on AO3

---

Snow fell gently from the heavens as Aymeric arrived in Saint Valeroyant’s Forum via the aethernet. The street sweepers were out in force removing snow and breaking up patches of ice; the blizzard last night had been short but fierce, but the skywatchers were predicting clear skies this afternoon, and as he walked across the Forum, he overheard some of his fellow Ishgardians discussing the possibility of getting hot drinks to watch the star shower the Athenaeum had been touting was to begin tonight. Not so long ago, the talk would have been about extra patrols on the walls in anticipation of a possible Dravanian attack, and he could not help but smile softly at the difference.

Just another day in the Republic of Ishgard.

As he approached the Congregation, the knight on door duty for the morning—Firmalbert, as ever, after the battle that had left him with little feeling in his swordarm, but Lucia and Handeloup had worked overtime to present an ironclad report to the priests about why the man could not be dismissed—saluted, and Aymeric nodded back in acknowledgment.

“Ser Firmalbert, good morning,” he said.

“Good morning, Ser Aymeric,” Firmalbert replied cheerfully. Aymeric could see when the knight glanced away to resume watch—and also when he blinked, and looked down.

Hello, Ser Firmalbert!

The old knight’s shoulders shook once in the familiar manner of someone valiantly suppressing laughter. “Hello, Miss Amandina, Miss Roksana.”

Aymeric chuckled as he pushed open the rightmost door into the Congregation, and held it open long enough for the girls to file in after himself. He relaxed minutely once he had closed the door and stepped further inside: no matter how many layers were between him and the cold, the Congregation was always kept warm enough for it to be cozy inside and was a welcome relief even after a short walk from home to the Athenaeum aetheryte. The main hall was already a hive of activity, knights going to and from offices and barracks and training salles in the upper and lower levels, returning or departing for patrols throughout the city or Coerthas.

His arrival of course garnered attention as he strode for the lift that would take him to his office; salutes, greetings, jaunty waves from older knights who had known him since he was a green squire and had enough seniority that a bit of overfamiliar insubordination was a matter all present would turn a blind eye to. He nodded and smiled as ever, and flat out grinned when the gazes of his Temple Knights inevitably slid away and down to the carbunclets neatly following behind him. There were more than a few rueful head shakes or gasps of delight in their wake, and the girls were the exemplars of fine little ladies, greeting everyone by name as they passed.

The lift ride was short and uneventful, and his office unlocked without incident, which meant he wasn’t in immediate danger of being bodily thrown out of the city by either Lucia or Norlaise for overwork. He settled at his desk, taking a moment to enjoy the new chair he had shamelessly requisitioned upon the realization there was room in the Temple Knight budget for it—arms and a cushion and enough room to slouch if he so desired—and watched the twins neatly leap onto the ironwood desktop and crawl into the pillowed wicker basket he had placed there for their use. Once they had made themselves comfortable, he retrieved one of the books they had requested he bring for them today (a Nanette Dracht mystery, one of their first forays into chaptered fiction, though they still adored picture books), opening it to the first page and propping it in the basket so it was easily viewable by them both.

“All right?”

Perfect, Papa! Roksana peeped.

Thank you! Amandina said, wiggling her ears.

Aymeric smiled and gently pet them, Roksana and then Amandina, as the girls squeakily purred.

It was then that a knock came at the door, and all three looked up.

“Enter!” he called out.

Inside stepped Lucia, followed by Handeloup with a tray containing a pot of tea, thick-walled mug, a carafe of juice, two swallow dishes, and a plate piled high with breakfast pastries both sweet and savory. The girls cheered, tumbling out of their basket to scramble to the edge of the desk and bounce up and down excitedly.

Hi, Aunt Lucia! Hi Uncle ‘Loup! Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hiiiiiiiii!

His First and Second Commanders smiled at the pair of pearl carbunclets as Aymeric smothered a laugh behind his hand. Lucia’s was especially wide, and she held out her hands as she approached them. “Hello, little ones,” she cooed. Once she was close enough, she crouched down so she was eye level with them and gathered them up into her arms. “How are you this morning?”

Good! said Amandina, headbutting her chin.

How’re YOU? Roksana chittered, snuggling close.

“I’m doing quite well, thank you, especially since I’ve now had the chance to hug you!”

Aymeric and Handeloup exchanged a look as the letter set the tray down on the end of the desk, and then quickly looked away, casting their eyes towards the ceiling. If they even hinted at a tease of their friend for how quickly she turned to putty in the twins’ paws, she would chase them around one of the salles and beat them black and blue with the flat of her sword. And then she would sweetly suggest a joint training session with the Watch, and set Hilda on them, and his Synnove and Handeloup’s Odeve would have no pity for them.

Lucia, meanwhile, having gotten the cuddles due to her as honorary auntie, had set the carbunclets back down. Amandina and Roksana almost immediately sat down, tiny chests puffed out as they straightened their posture.

Notice anything different about us? they chimed.

His First Commander cocked her head, but quickly flashed them a smile. “Well, it can’t be your ears,” she said, reaching out to stroke the extremities in question. The girls purred. “Or your tails, they’re all still perfect!”

“And certainly still just as pretty as ever,” Handeloup drawled with a grin. He absolutely knew how to flatter a daughter.

As Handeloup spoke, Lucia glanced up at Aymeric, quirking an eyebrow.

Aymeric grinned and quickly flashed three of the Temple Knights’ hand signals: Synnove, magic, inside. The closest he could get to an off-the-cuff explanation that Synnove had recently given their pearl foci a fresh infusion of aether.

“Hmmmm,” Lucia said exaggeratedly, placing a finger on her chin thoughtfully, “could it be you’re a little bit more magical?”

Ooooh, hummed Amandina.

Close! said Roksana.

And, in chorus: We’re BIGGER! To emphasize the statement, they puffed their chests out even further, unmistakably posing.

Lucia widened her eyes. “Oh, my goodness, so you are.”

Handeloup, not in view of the girls, had slapped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking. It was a good thing he was in leathers rather than formal plate today, otherwise there would have been no hiding his amusement.

Aymeric made another two hand signs (height, shoulder) and then held up his hand, forefinger and thumb a half-ilm apart.

Handeloup’s face contorted in an effort to stay silent, and he moved his hand so he could bite down on the meat of his thumb. Lucia flickered her eyes towards him and, Fury bless her Frumentarium heart, kept her face from twitching out of the expression of doting wonder as she said to the girls, “A whole half-ilm taller, by the looks of it!”

The twins gasped in delight.

She’s so good at this, Roksana whispered loudly.

I told you she’d notice! Amandina said in the same tone.

Now Aymeric had to clap his hands over his mouth to keep from bursting into giggles and giving it all away. Handeloup was beginning to turn red. And Lucia’s smile ilmed over into a smug smirk at retaking the lead in the competition she and Synnove’s sisters had for being favorite auntie.

Later, after Lucia managed to get Handeloup out of the office before he asphyxiated—the girls had twitched in surprise at the explosive, wheezing cackle that had echoed down the hallway from the lift, looking around in befuddlement—and breakfast was consumed, and they girls had read an entire book and settled down for a nap before lunch, his linkpearl, the personal one, chimed softly. Aymeric smiled and set down his report, leaning back in his chair and lifting his hand to his ear.

“Hello, my lady,” he said softly so as not to disturb the sleeping carbunclets. “How goes the conference?”

“Hello, my lord.” Synnove’s cheerful voice came through clear as a bell; she must have retreated to her office for the time being. “I’ve refrained from strangling anyone, but we’ve only just finished the keynote and begun the first panels, so there’s still time!”

He laughed softly. “Perhaps this time you should refrain from raising poor Thubyrgeim’s blood pressure.”

“I will make no promises. How are my girls doing?”

“Quite well,” he said, glancing over at them. Roksana was gently chewing on Amandina’s ear in her sleep. Amandina’s back leg twitched every time. “And currently asleep; I’ll take them to the mess for lunch so they can properly show off for everyone.”

Synnove’s answering laugh was sweet and husky. “Thank you again for indulging them. I knew they wouldn’t get quite the attention they wanted here with everyone so focused on—” He heard a distant knock on her end of the line. “Oh, hells. One moment.”

“Of course.”

The line briefly went quiet, and when Synnove returned, it crackled with the force of her sigh. “Seven fucking hells, we’ve got a new record: first blood drawn at a half-bell past the end of the opening keynote.”

“Do I want to know?”

“Not until you have alcohol on hand.”

Aymeric chuckled. “Then I’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

“See you at dinner! I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

The line closed and Aymeric let out a quiet sight as he dropped his hand to fold both in his lap, a rueful smile on his lips. For all he complained about his dual responsibilities as Lord Commander and Lord Speaker, at least he didn’t have to manage arcanists.

He leaned forward and picked up his quill. The sooner he finished reviewing these reports, the sooner he could take the girls to lunch; the sooner he could take the girls to lunch, the more quickly the day would pass, and the sooner he would see Synnove.

He smiled, and got back to work.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Lockscreens (ch. 2)

tw: Drinking

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff

All trigger warnings will be tagged and posted at the beginning of each chapter! This will have *manga spoilers*

Pairings: Bokuto x fem!reader, Kuroo x fem!reader

Summary: Nearly four years ago, Bokuto left the love of his life for volleyball. Despite all the time, he’s still very much in love with her. He comes home to a major surprise leaving him wondering…What happened while he was gone?

Masterlist | prev | next

ch 2: Broken and New Promises (Month 1)

Nearly four years ago...

“Babe, guess what?” She looked up from the tea-cup that sat in front of her, over the pastries as (e/c) eyes made contact with gold. Her eyebrows quirked up as she took a sip, swallowing it and her apprehension. She had invited her boyfriend to their favorite cafe to tell him some life-changing news. “I just got scouted!” Her eyes widened, choking slightly on the hot beverage. 

“Really? That’s great!” 

“Yeah, it’s a two-year contract for now. They want to send me to their training camp starting next week and I’ll be gone for the next six months. After that, I’m going to officially join the team and everything!” A soft pout made its way to his face as he played with his fingers. “That means I have to leave this weekend.” 

Delicately placing the tea-cup down, a soft hand reached out for his. “Kou, it’s okay. This is the opportunity you’ve been looking for all of your life.” With a thick swallow, she steeled her nerves. “I’m not going to keep you here. Please, go live your life and you better be the best ace out there, okay?” 

“We can make this work! I’ll come home to visit, and we’ll call every day, I promise.” 

A sad smile; a clenched fist under the table. “I’m sure we can.” 

“I love you.” A kiss to her hand.

A squeeze from hers. “I love you too.” 

****

It wasn’t long before those promises were being broken. It started with skipping the ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts. Then it became unresponded texts spanning over multiple days. Phone calls were missed. Video-calls were forgotten and ignored. Visits planned and cancelled. The phone rang. (Name) glanced down at her purse at the sound, pulling the phone out. “Hello?” 

“Hey, (Name)! Was wondering, have you heard from Bokuto recently?” 

“No, I haven’t.” She couldn’t bring herself to smile. “He’s been busy with his new team.” A veiled sigh. The phone was squeezed between her shoulder and ear as she readjusted her basket.

“I’m not even surprised, it’s only been a month since he’s left after all. He was supposed to come back for the Gym 3 reunion dinner this weekend but nobody’s really heard from him in the group-chat.”

She let out a soft laugh. “I’m surprised you and the others still have time to meet up.” (Name) bent down, comparing two different packs of vitamins. 

“Yeah well, I like to remember my roots unlike some people.” His laughter warmed her heart. “Say, even though Bokuto isn’t coming, we still want you there! I’m sure the others prefer you over him anyways. Besides, I miss my best friend!” 

A gentle hum in response as she reviewed her calendar. “This weekend right? I should be free, just send me the details.” 

“Great! See you soon.” She ended the call, staring at her phone screen for a moment longer. It was a picture of (Name) and Bokuto underneath the sakura trees, petals falling onto their heads as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Another drawn out sigh before she locked the phone, tucking it away to finish running errands as she placed a bottle of vitamins into her basket.

****

“Hey, you made it!” (Name) stepped into the restaurant, glancing around only to find a tall, dark-haired idiot waving his arms aggressively. 

“I said I was coming, didn’t I?” Her good-natured laugh made the others around the table break out into chuckles. Kuroo patted the empty seat beside him, gesturing for her to take it. “Where’s Akaashi?” (E/c) eyes scanned the table. Across from her, Tsukishima was sitting beside Lev, looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there. An empty seat was left on Kuroo’s other side.

“He couldn’t make it. Something about deadlines.”

“Guess the Fukurodani boys aren’t loyal to their roots,” she teased, elbowing Kuroo. His loud laugh caught the eyes of the rest of the patrons as she rolled hers. Kuroo always had an obnoxious laugh, one that fit his messy hair.

“At least you came.” He pulled her into a side-hug. “Missed you, Manager-chan.” Soon enough, they had all placed their orders. Smiling behind her glass of water, she observed as Lev and Kuroo finished their beers, bellies shaking with the roar of their laughter. Tsukishima wasn’t quite as vocal, but his cheeks had also become tinged pink from the beer.  Kuroo wiped a tear away from his eye, trying to speak before Lev made another comment that sent the older male into another fit of laughter. 

“So, how have you been, Tsukishima?” She sent the boy a sympathetic smile, coaxing him to join in the conversation. 

“You know you can just call me Kei,” the boy rolled his eyes, cheeks becoming slightly more bright. “I’ve been good, just focusing on school work. How are you (L.Name)-san?”

“And I told you years ago, Kei, call me (Name),” she giggled, taking another sip of water. “I’ve been okay, just about finished with my degree.” 

“Right, what are you studying again?”

She cleared her throat, ignoring the other boys who began another round of beers. “I went to school for sports medicine.” 

“And it’s all because of me!” Kuroo proclaimed, throwing an arm around her shoulder. Warm breath tainted with beer blew on her face. 

She rolled her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night.” She looked back to her audience jabbing a thumb at her former captain, “Kuroo ended up throwing his back out like the old man he is, so I ended up helping him with his rehabilitation.” The smile froze for a second, contemplating the secondary reason why she had chosen this route. All along she had known that Bokuto had plans to become a professional athlete. Going pro had always been his sense of normal. Her chosen path had made sense at the time if she had wanted to follow besides him on his climb to success. Them against the world. Another broken promise.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Kuroo’s loud whine. “I’m not an old man!”

Immediately, she and Lev replied, “yes you are.” 

Kuroo clicked his tongue in dismissal, finishing his beer. He placed it down, smacking his lips. “This has been fun. Why don’t we head back to my place and watch a movie or something?” 

“Can’t, got an exam coming up,” Tsukishima replied immediately, as they all stood up to make their way out.

“I promised my sister I would help her move tomorrow. She just got a job offer so she’s moving to be closer to it.” Lev whined. All three boys turned to look at her. A moment of hesitation.

“Sure, I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.” With that, she hugged the other boys good-bye as they walked off together in the opposite direction. “I’m guessing you didn’t drive?” She glanced at the tall former captain beside her. At the shake of his head, she escorted him to her car, unlocking it for him to get in. 

“Wow this is small.” He groaned, his head accidentally hitting the roof as he clambered in.

“You’re just freakishly big, Kuroo.” She teased, starting it as she reversed. Soft music played as they let the silence wash over them. The only interruptions came from Kuroo as he navigated her to his complex. Soon enough, they were standing in his living room. She stepped in, not having been there since Kuroo had first moved in. “It looks much homier now,” she commented, slipping her coat off as she hung it up on the hook.

“Kuroo, where do you want this box?” (Name) called, stepping in through the doorway only to be greeted with a loud crashing noise followed by a loud curse.

“Bokuto! I said over there, not here!” Kuroo jabbed his hand in the direction of the kitchen, scolding her boyfriend. Kuroo rubbed his foot, having kicked the box on accident. The box laid on its side, photo frames spilling out. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you meant here!” Bokuto argued, crossing his arms and pouting. “I don’t wanna help anymore.” 

“I was gone for five minutes.” She sighed, lips slightly pursed as she placed the box of kitchen supplies down on the counter before bending down to collect the frames. “Babe, can you just go get another box from the truck?” Bokuto bent down, hugging her around the shoulders. He peppered kisses along the side of her face. Bokuto huffed, his warm breath bathing her neck and causing goosebumps to prickle through her skin.

“Do I have to?”

“Please babe? The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can head home and cuddle.” He sprang up, giving her one last peck on the cheek before disappearing down the stairs. (Name) picked up a sleek black frame, turning it over to reveal chubby smiling faces. “I didn’t know you still had this.” 

Kuroo crouched down besides her, looking at the photo. It was a photo of them on their first day of middle-school. She was in a yellow frilly sundress, her hair in pig-tails. Kuroo was beside her, boyish cheeks puffed in a wide smile. He wore a blue t-shirt with a photo of a dog on it and yellow shorts. He snorted. “Of course I do, you looked absolutely ridiculous in that.” 

“Those yellow shorts didn’t do you any favors either,” she rolled her eyes, fixing the box so it sat up properly as she tucked the frame back into it. They looked around the apartment. Brown boxes were stacked everywhere, and the only furniture available was a wooden table in the living room. “Where’s the rest of the furniture?”

“Ah right, I should help Bokuto bring that in.” 

“Well, that happens when you live somewhere for awhile,” he chuckled, hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. The other hand gently guided her to the living room by the small of her back. “Pick something, I’m gonna change and get you something more comfortable to wear.” She hummed in response, tapping the buttons on the remote to select some random wildlife documentary before a sound interrupted her. Turning her head, she looked at Kuroo as he slipped back into the room, wearing an old volleyball tshirt and shorts. “Here you are,” he tossed her a shirt and shorts. 

“Thank you,” she replied, heading to the restroom. As she undressed, she couldn’t help but look at her stomach in the light, examining it at all angles. She had worn a loose sweater earlier. She let out a soft sigh. She’d have to start investing in more loose-fitting clothes. A sudden wave of nausea hit her as she flung herself onto the toilet, dry-heaving.

“Hey, (Name)—” The door creaked open as Kuroo knocked on it, she hadn’t closed it all the way. He stopped, eyes widening at her as fear-stricken eyes met his face. “Are you…”  

“Yes.” 

Kuroo shook his head, gently closing the door as he stepped back out to give her some privacy. She scolded herself as she cleaned up after herself. She had been hiding the secret for a while now, she hadn’t planned on letting her friends know quite yet. (Name) didn’t even know what her relationship status was anymore ever since Bokuto had left to pursue his professional career. Stepping out, she tugged the red t-shirt down more. Kuroo was seated on the couch, fingers interlocked as he stared passively at the frozen TV screen. She slipped behind the couch, coming around to the other end as she took a seat at the very end. “How long?” 

A deep gulp. “Two months.”

“His?” Kuroo’s eyes left the screen, hazel eyes piercing hers. Biting her bottom lip, she could only nod. “Are you keeping it?” A moment of hesitation before she nodded. “Does he know?” She tore her face away, swallowing thickly as shame surged through her. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

“I didn’t want him to give up his career for me.” Her soft words broke the silence. Kuroo sighed, moving to sit closer to her. A warm hand pulled hers away from her lap. 

“You didn’t have to be alone through this.” Fingers tilted her chin back to his face. “You know I would’ve been there in a heartbeat.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden.” 

At this, he snorted. “(Name), you’re one of my closest and oldest friends. When have you ever been a burden?” A small smile made its way to her face. Gentle hands pulled her head into his chest, a hand lightly stroking her hair. “Even if you don’t want Bokuto involved here, I want to be. You can’t get rid of me that easily, especially now that I know.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, his warm breath fanning across her face. “Now, let’s watch this documentary!” He pulled back, a wide grin appearing on his face.

****

The next morning, she woke up in an unfamiliar place. In the corner of her eye sitting on Kuroo’s desk, she caught a glimpse of two familiar kids beaming back. Her nose violently twitched as the smell of oil invaded her senses. Launching herself onto her feet, she disappeared into the restroom heaving over the porcelain throne. Behind her, she heard curses and loud foot-steps. “(Name)?” Kuroo made his way behind her, pulling her hair back as she retched. ‘Just like old times,’ she thought, remembering all the times she, Bokuto, and Kuroo had gone to town in the clubs and bars during the earlier years of college. “Shh, it’s okay,” Kuroo whispered, rubbing her back as she groaned. Panting, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, grimacing. “Are you okay?” 

She waved him off. “Just morning sickness.” 

“Have you been to the doctor’s yet?” She shook her head. “Don’t be stupid, you’re already eight weeks in.” She flushed the toilet, feeling her nausea subside. Standing up, she washed her hands. Kuroo left as she examined her reflection. Her skin was pale, beads of sweat dotted her forehead. She smacked her lips, face twisting at the taste. Kuroo reappeared, handing her an unopened toothbrush. “Toothpaste is in the cupboard,” he said, leaving her to her own devices. 

Quickly freshening up, she was greeted with the sight of two plates of grilled fishes and rice as she stepped back out to the living room. Another wave of nausea crashed over her, but she swallowed back the acrid taste. “Kuroo,” she sent him a glum expression. “That looks delicious, but I’m afraid I don’t think I can eat it.”

He frowned, “It’s never too early to give your baby docosahexaenoic acid, (Name)!” 

She rolled her eyes, laughing as she made her way into his kitchen to make herself some natto and miso soup. “Of course you’d say that, Kuroo.” Turning back to the stove, she gestured for him to eat.  “But unfortunately the oily nature is making me a tad nauseous.” She tapped her nose.

“Ahh, that’s fair. I’m sorry, I’ll keep that in mind.” At this, she stopped slicing the tofu to give him an incredulous look.

“And why’s that?”

He smirked at her. “Well I did promise to help you, didn’t I?” 

She turned back to her cooking, cheeks flushing. “You don’t actually have to follow through with that,” she mumbled. “You were tipsy when you said it anyways.” 

“Oh hush,” he waved her off as he took another bite of the fish. “You took care of us all those years in high-school. You’ve taken care of me for most of our lives. This is the least I can do for you.” 

“Well aren’t you chivalrous,” she teased, fiddling with a knob on the stove. 

He swallowed his mouthful of rice, “now, do you have a doctor in mind already or do I need to go search for one?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make an appointment after this is finished,” she promised, shooting him a look. He stood up, collecting his empty dishes and placed them in the sink. 

Looking at her ingredients, he sent her a cheeky smile. “Mind making me some too?” He picked up the second meal, neatly arranging it into a bento before he placed those dishes into the sink as well.

“Only because you took the couch and made me breakfast,” she replied, bumping his hip with hers. Kuroo sent her a sly grin, before heading back to the table to pull out his laptop. As she finished up her meal, she and Kuroo caught up on life. Prior to this, they hadn’t seen each other in over a month. Her phone was filled with unopened messages and missed calls from everyone but the person she wanted the most. She placed the bowl of miso soup beside him, glancing at his laptop. “What are you up to?” 

He tilted the screen back in response, revealing the web-page. “Just doing some pregnancy research, my dear (Name).” 

She thumped him on the forehead before she took a seat across from him. “You really don’t have to do that,” she reminded him. “I was already fully prepared for raising this child alone if it came down to it.” 

He glanced up from the screen, raising his eyebrow at her. Kuroo cleared his throat. “That may be the case, but you don’t have to go through the pregnancy alone.” Leaning forward, he ruffled her hair causing her to scowl at him. “I’m your best friend, (Name). Just let me help!” 

“Sure, sure, whatever you say Kuroo.” They sat in silence. Kuroo continued doing his research while she contemplated the implications of Kuroo’s promise.

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[soniaxdixon]

The New World; Series Pt 2

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!

Sonia x

Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.

Part 2 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.

Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, A little angst. 

Words; 1774

This part focuses more on Season 1 Episode 3 ‘Tell it to the frogs’ We have a little reunion and start to explore Daryl and y/n’s relationship a bit more. - Sorry in advance if there are any errors, I didn’t really edit it properly

Like every morning, you were woken up by the sounds of your friends talking outside and the morning light forcing your eyes open. You rose, got dressed and stepped out of your tent your heart jumping when a big figure grabbed your shoulder suddenly, without warning.

“Jesus fucking christ, Daryl. A little heads up that you’re behind me next time? Shit.”

The ends of his lips curled into a small smile that made your stomach flip with butterflies. The power this man had over you already was immense. “M’ goin’ huntin’, shouldn’t be too long. Let Merle know if he gets back.” And with that, he was gone, not even giving you a chance to respond, his crossbow over his shoulder, hastily making his way into the woods. You couldn’t help but stare until his figure finally disappeared among the trees.

You looked over and saw Carl getting his haircut by Lori. He locked eyes with you and mumbled a plea for help. You shook your head and laughed at his suffering face. Catching on to the end of their conversation, you sat down next to Shane who was cleaning his gun.

“Frogs, plural”

“Why do we need ‘Frogs, plural?’” Carl questioned

You zoned out for a second, looking off in the direction Daryl had headed. Your mind suddenly racing. What happens if he comes across a walker? What happens if he comes across lots of walkers. Did he have a gun or just his crossbow? Why did he go alone?

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shane’s voice broke you from your silent panic.

You just stared at him for a second and he read your confusion, he knew you had a habit of zoning out. “Cajun style kermit legs, what do you think?”

“Oh, gross. No thanks.” Your face contorted with the thought of eating frog legs cooked by Shane. “You can keep your frog legs, I’d rather eat dirt.”

Your conversation was halted by the sudden sound of a car alarm.

“What the fuck?” You questioned, your eyes focusing on Shane.

“Talk to me, Dale?” Shane leapt from his seat and made his way over to the RV

You stood next to Shane, your arms crossed protectively across your chest.

The car sped up the hill suddenly screeching to a halt, Glenn climbing out of the drivers seat instantly being hounded by questions and yelling.

“My sister, is she okay?” Amy asked glenn over and over.

“Yes, she’s fine, everybody is. Merle not so much.”

Your stomach dropped quickly at the thought of Merle not being okay. What would you tell Daryl?

You turned and shuffled quickly towards your tent, climbing inside and finding your water bottle. You sat down for a few minutes, taking steady drinks. Poor Daryl you thought to yourself. You knew what it was like to lose a brother. You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a truck pulling up. Exiting your tent again you made your way over to Lori and Carl, placing your hands on the boys shoulders.

Everyone was reuniting and for a second, everyone was happy. You felt Carl’s shoulders begin to shake as he started sobbing. Lori knelt down and comforted him as he cried again for his dad.

“How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asked

“New guy, he got us out”

“Hey helicopter boy, come say hello. Guy’s a cop, just like you.”

You looked up at Morales’s words and felt your knees turn in. Tears filled your eyes as he stood there in front of you.

“Holy shit” was all that came out of your mouth before you saw carl running past you

“Dad!”

You’ve never seen the boy run so fast as Rick pulled him to the ground in a hug. Picking him up and walking to Lori. Your heart swelling with love as he let go of them and his eyes found you.

“Oh my God.” He uttered as he grabbed you and you finally allowed your knees to drop. He held you up as he hugged you, tighter than you have ever hugged before. You had him back. The only thing that could keep you calm. Your big brother was alive.

That night you sat around a fire and listened to Rick talk about his experience. Waking up in the hospital only to find the world had fallen apart. They spoke about Merle, how he was handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta, how T-Dogg had dropped the key, how they would have to tell Daryl.

You couldn’t think about it anymore, you pushed yourself off he ground and leaned down, placing a kiss on Carl’s forehead and hugging your brother one more time for the day.

You walked over to your tent and went to sleep for the night. As usual, the only thing on your mind was Daryl but tonight, it wasn’t the usual thoughts of what it would be like if you were together. Tonight they were thoughts flooded with worry.

————

You scrambled for your clothes in the morning, pulling on some blue jeans and a black tee, pushing your way out of your tent and over to your group. The sudden sound of screaming had you running before you could even register what it was, pulling your knife from its sheath you sprinted towards the sound.

“Carl?” You yelled, Lori’s voice followed yours with the same question as she and rick ran behind you.

Lori grabbed him, “Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?”

You ran with rick and the others to the source of the screaming. A lone walker feasting on a big deer. A deer with bolts in its side. The men began to beat the walker, forcing it to the ground before Dale cut its head off.

Sudden rustling drew you from your thoughts as you watched the bush intently.

“Son of a bitch, that’s my deer” the southern drawl all too familiar. “Look at it all gnawed on by this, filthy, disease bearin’, motherless, poxy bastard.”

You followed him back into the camp as he yelled out for his brother, “Merle! Get your ugly ass out here, got us some squirrels”

“Daryl, slow up a bit, I need to talk to you” with the words that Shane said, your stomach began to churn.

“Bout what?”

“Bout Merle, there was a problem in Atlanta.”

“He dead?” Daryl asked, you could see the panic etching his face slowly.

“Not sure.” Shane answered

“He either is or he ain’t” obvious venom dripped from his words as he stared at Shane, waiting for his next answer.

Your eyes turned to Rick as he stepped in suddenly, “no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes”

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocked “You got something you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal”

Before you knew it, things escalated. Daryl threw the squirrels and pulled out a knife.

Within seconds the knife was on the floor and Shane had daryl in a choke hold. You couldn’t control yourself and you threw yourself at Shane, hitting his back, “Let go of him” You were grabbing at his shirt trying to pull him off when Glenn grabbed your arms as you struggled against him.

“Fucking let him go Shane or I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” At this point Glenn was forcing his hand over your mouth to shut you up and you finally complied when Shane let Daryl out of the choke hold.

You stormed off to your tent so you wouldn’t react again. Thoughts raced through your head. Why the hell did you do that, what on earth possessed you? You and Daryl had hardly spoken and yet you were suddenly threatening one of your closest friends just so he would let him go. Get your head on straight Y/N, Daryl’s gonna think you’re a crazy bitch now.

About 30 minutes later, Rick headed over to your tent to check on you, you had calmed down at this point but you were still pissed at Shane.  “I’m taking, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dogg back into Atlanta to get Merle.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“No, I want you to stay here.”

You snapped “What the hell is with everyone thinking they have say in where I go.”

“I want you here in case something happens, You’ve taken care of Lori and Carl since the start and I need to know you will protect them while I’m gone.”

Your eyes softened as you shot him an apologetic look.  “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s in his tent, packing his bag.”

You squeezed ricks shoulder and found yourself walking to the edge of your camp, to Daryl’s tent.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Why the hell would ya even care? Just leave me be” He was obviously hurt and his tone stung you.

“Geez okay, sorry for checking on you, prick.” You mumbled the last word walking away before his hand grabbed your shoulder, sending chills down your back as he quickly pulled away.

“M’ sorry. Thanks for checking.”

You just looked at him but your face eased out of the scowl you had before hand.

“Why’d ya jump on Shane like that before? I thought that asshole was your friend.”

“Yeah kinda. We grew up together, he Rick and I. He’s just kinda always been a part of my life ya know. When I thought I lost Rick, he became an even bigger part and I think seeing him dismiss your brother like he was nothing riled me up because I know what its like to lose a brother. I was just lucky enough that mine came back somehow.”

Daryl never broke eye contact with you, watching as slight tears stung your eyes when you thought about losing Rick. “You’re gonna find him. He’ll be fine and you’ll bring him back.” He just continued to look at you as his mind raced with thoughts. This was the longest that you two had spoken, you were actually telling him something about yourself and something in his chest felt like it was on fire. You reached out and he flinched slightly, you put your hand carefully on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay Daryl, You’ll be okay.” You gently squeezed as you turned around to head back towards your tent.

You heard him barely whisper “Thanks.”

“Come back in one piece please.” You whispered back, just loud enough that he could hear you and the fire in his chest grew.

[angeltrapz]

Chainshipping ask!! Chainshipping ask!! hello beloved mutual Connor 💚💚 Just cuz idk I love couple shit, what do u think is their favorite movie to watch together? bc I think they have very different genre tastes so what is th one that just hits So Right for them both, their go-to for date nights where they can’t decide on smthn — also, bc i LOVE th idea in any situation of there bein a cork board that Adam pins his photos on: Adam’s top 3-5 fav photos that he’s put up on the board? Lawrence’s top 3-5? who’s in them, what’s the story behind them, etc!

hello beloved mutual adam!! tysm <3

ohh I've given that a lil bit of thought actually!! I agree that they have very very different genre tastes, like some of the shit Adam is perfectly fine w watching Lawrence couldn't ever sit through (I don't know that Adam likes, you know... Super Fucked Up Movies? I def think he doesn't mind certain aspects of horror/gore as much as Lar might though), and the same can be said vice versa. so because I am a simple man w simple joys, I actually do like to think it's The Princess Bride,,, (no it's not bc Cary's in it, but that's a plus) it's a movie that would've come out when Adam was pretty young but (since I like projecting??) it was smth that was on a lot after it came out, and I don't think he'd outwardly TELL ppl this, but it's a very good movie to watch when he's upset/tired/needs background noise. he could probably recite certain parts of it at this point but don't ask him abt it jdfkddfs

I think the first time Adam suggests that movie Lawrence looks at him for a moment and is like "really???" bc I firmly believe he would be really fond of it too!! he watches it every so often with Diana bc she really enjoys it and Lar can't say he doesn't enjoy it too,, he'll like try to get some work done while it's on (he and Diana will sit in the living room), but inevitably it'll get pushed to the side bc Lawrence gets caught up in watching it, no matter how many times they've seen it. so when Adam brings that up he's just like "!!!!!" internally!! he's so excited abt it + Adam can definitely tell, so the whole time he's just like "oh... I love you 💞💖💕"

I like the idea that they specifically have like, certain traditions when they decide to watch it, so like. they've got the comfiest blanket out on the couch, probably some sort of takeout or delivery if Lawrence hadn't made something for dinner himself, hot chocolate made with milk the way Adam likes it - sometimes they bake chocolate chip cookies together too!! just a nice evening to relax and enjoy each other’s company + a movie they’re both pretty fond of!! it usually ends with Adam’s head on Lawrence’s shoulder, his legs in Lawrence’s lap, sound asleep. sometimes Lawrence will drift off too for a little while, but once he wakes up he makes sure to wake Adam up too so they can go to bed properly (Lawrence will never admit to this, but sometimes if Adam whines and asks for five more minutes, well, Lawrence doesn’t have the heart to deny him,,)

+ YEAH I love the cork board idea too!!! I like the idea that Lawrence is the first to suggest it, ‘cause “Adam, you are far more talented than you give yourself credit for; also I love you.” bc Adam is 100% the kind of dude that takes pictures of his partners/friends/family CONSTANTLY. and even beyond that, Lawrence has always thought Adam was talented!! so it breaks his heart a little sometimes to hear that Adam isn’t confident in his skills/feels nervous sharing any shots with people. he figures if they have a cork board specifically for pinning up photos they like/Adam is proud of, maybe that will help a little bit to show Adam how much he loves his photography + how impressed Lawrence is with it!!

so, for Adam’s top three favourite shots:

the first is a photo of Lawrence in bed, having just woken up + with the early morning sun framing him in a gentle wash of light that makes his eyelashes bright and evident, along with softening the features of his face. Adam was already awake before Lawrence (though admittedly not for very long), and he was just overcome with the feeling of I Need To Document This. he stubbed his toe when getting out of bed to retrieve his camera, but it was totally worth it.

the second is actually one Lawrence took of him, and he totally teared up the first time he saw it but he’d never tell you that. it’s a picture of him leaning against the counter in their kitchen, wearing only his boxers and one of Lawrence’s t-shirts that hung off of one shoulder, and his eyes are closed while he’s holding a cup of coffee he’d just poured. his hair was a disaster, he was a little bit grouchy, he’d had trouble with the toaster, but Lawrence saw him and instantly felt like he needed to keep that moment.

the third is actually one of he, Lawrence, and Diana; it was taken using the self-timer feature so Adam could be in it too, because Diana wanted to have a picture of all three of them. this is the picture that actually DID make him cry the first time he saw it, because it’s just like. that’s his family!!! he loves them!!! holy shit!!! and Lawrence had to hug him for a while even though he was Also having a moment,, Diana walked up to the two of them and hugged them both too. it was a good moment for the three of them!!

for Lawrence’s top three favourite shots:

the first is one of he and Diana that Adam took one weekend while Diana was staying with them at the apartment, stealthily shot from the threshold of the kitchen. Diana is painting his nails light blue and telling him all about her day at school, and Lawrence is smiling and his mouth is open because he was in the middle of responding to something she had said. the faint glow of light from the TV and the lamps they have on the side tables paint he and Diana in a warm kind of light, and it just looks so soft. he’s so very happy with the family he has now.

the second photo is one that Adam had gotten when he was in the midst of changing into his sleep clothes, sandy blond hair a mess and his eyes half-lidded and sleepy as he glances in the direction of the camera with a tired smile. he’s actually grinning at Adam behind the viewfinder, slacks halfway down his thighs and his dress shirt unbuttoned to expose the undershirt beneath. he was tired as fuck and kind of a mess after pulling a long shift that Adam just barely stayed up for, so knowing Adam was probably worn out from waiting up for him and Still wanted to take a picture? it’s very much just 🥺🥺

the third picture is one that he took of Adam, wearing one of his college sweatshirts on the couch with his knees drawn up under his chin and his cheek resting against the tops of them. he was deeply focused on the movie that was playing (what the movie was, Lawrence forgets) and he was that soft kind of sleepy, eyes slipping shut every so often as he forces himself to stay awake to finish whatever it was. Lawrence had gotten it one of the times his eyes were open, bathed in the multicoloured lights of the TV, and god Lawrence just felt his heart clench and knew he needed this.

honestly, it’s pretty equal between the two of them on who takes pictures of the other, and though Lawrence is inexperienced and his shots are a little blurry or he forgets to keep his thumb out of the frame, it’s still perfect. Adam always feels his chest swell with this emotion of you love me enough to capture these moments forever, and honestly? Lawrence’s enthusiasm kind of builds up his confidence a little; that he sees Adam even with the wildest of bedhead and drool on his pillow and thinks Yes, I Need This. it’s so. 🥺

it’s their life, pinned up for anyone to see when they come to visit. the love that warms the apartment and their hearts, as evidenced by the numerous array of pictures they have displayed. it’s them, their family, their love, and that’s all that matters. <33

[peakyblinderswhore]

DAY 4 ⇨ FROSTBITTEN 

GENRE: Christmas!au, Fluff, Arthur is a big softie, Reader is clearly in love with him

PAIRING: Arthur x Reader

SYNOPSIS: It began, you could say, when Arthur got himself into the hymn singing group. You were drawn to him, finding yourself signing up for more things, saying “If you do it, I will too,” before causing ruckus at another group or gathering. This time, it was the point in the year where you went around caroling, kindly asking for donations to donate to the local orphanage for the children who needed it more than you did, an activity that you had always done but this year Arthur’s there, making everything seem that much better. It’s safe to say that caroling takes a lighter tune this year.

W/C: 1.4k

As of recent, Arthur had joined in with a lot of things around Small Heath, you had noticed. You weren’t sure why but you found yourself joining in on more of the community activities becasue of this.

Just last week there had been a small baking competition where the Church Community baked whatever they could and then once the winner was announced, the goods were shared between yourselves and whoever came in looking for something to eat. It was mostly children with ruffled hair and dirty faces but you were more than happy to serve them a slice of cake or a slice of bread slathered with one of the other competitors’ handmade butter -- something that you were far too busy to try out yourself. 

You loved joining in, although initially it had been because there was a male interest in all of the activities. Arthur had started coming, drawing a few women in to join the community but they tended to stand off to one side, whispering hurriedly to each other and nodding their heads in Arthur’s direction; you had no idea why, though. Arthur held an aura that you were in awe of, and you were instantly drawn to him.

The first thing he signed up for was hymn singing, which typically was just women and women only, however, when the announcement was made that Arthur was to be joining, the air had stilled and it became apparent amongst the other women that this was against the organisers original wishes. It completely went past you though, you sat nodding along when the pastor had said that the added baritone could widen the range of songs that you were able to sing as a group.

That Monday afternoon, there had been a group of reluctant women huffing and making a fuss before Arthur had turned up. When he did, he walked to the empty chair in the row behind you and greeted the women either side, “Hello, ladies. Just doin’ my bit around here, I fancied trying out practicing my hymns and talking to the Man in Charge every so often.”

They had given him curt replies and moved on from the conversation as quickly as they could manage. Arthur had ignored it and looked ahead, joining in on the singing when required and offering his two pence where it was worth. Frankly, it was horrible singing and he needed to work on his timing a bit better but you didn’t say anything, not wanting to stick your nose in anything so soon on. Nevertheless, he turned up for two more sessions before you worked up the courage to talk to him at the end of one of your meetings, approaching him with your coat wrapped around your shoulders and the other women rushing to make their way out after tucking the chairs away behind a pillar.

“Arthur, right? I’m --”

“I know who you are,” he begins, face forming a small smile.

“Oh,” your hands fall to your sides and you let a smile adorn your face, “well, in that case, I just wanted to say that your addition to the group has been wonderful, really. It’s nice to have a change in the way we sound as a collective.”

Arthur’s eyebrows raise, “Not shocked by my presence?”

“A little, I mean, it has been just us ‘gals’ all this time but now we get to sing new songs since you’ve joined. Honestly,” your hands accentuate your words, adding flair to your speech, “it’s been a thrilling few weeks, wondering what we’re doing next.”

Arthur nodded, not sure what else to say, “I can see you’re getting ready to go somewhere so I’ll leave you to it, then,”

You smile and thank him for sparing a minute to talk to you and go to make your way out. Before you make it all the way to the door, you stop, hand resting on the handle and turn to face Arthur who was still hanging behind to talk to the pastor, “Arthur,” you call. He turns.

“I’m not sure if it’s your kind of thing but we’re baking next weekend for the people of Small Heath. It’s not always a big turn out and most of the others don’t like the kids that come in looking for something to eat and a warm place to stay but it’d be nice if you came,” you falter over your next words, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach as you didn’t know how he’d react, “I’m baking sourdough this time round; I’ll save you some, if you like?”

He nods, a tight smile on his face, “I’ll see what I can do.”

And that’s how it went for months. You and Arthur worked together more often, stood by each other in hymn practice and he even brought along his younger brother to some of the baking dues that the Church held. Over time you both got closer to one another, sharing laughs and the other women pointed at you and Arthur, muttering things under their breath that you couldn’t quite catch but you paid them no mind, preferring to feign ignorance so that you could enjoy yourself for longer.

It came around to Christmas time and the both of you made it known that you were going Caroling once the group was set up. On Mondays the songs transitioned into traditional Nativity-themed songs and songs that made everyone merrier this time of year.

Soon, time passed and you found yourself giddy with excitement over being able to spend the evening caroling with Arthur. You had discovered some form of comfort when he was around that allowed you to be yourself and to not hold back in front of the other women and also developed a way to blur out their gossiping in the background, not caring what they had to say. 

“Alright tonight, ladies?” Arthur greeted them all before turning his attention to you, “And you, how are you?”

Immediately, you wrap your arms around his torso, a greeting he had gotten used to over the months as he returned the favour, wrapping his arms around yours and enjoying the warmth before you pulled away to talk to him properly.

You offer a bright smile, “I’m alright, you know me. How’re you? How’s Finn?”

Arthur smiles warmly, something in his eyes shimmering at the thought of you remembering to ask after Finn, “He’s upset.”

Your face falls, “What, why? What’s up? Who’ve I gotta scrap to keep that ball of sunshine happy?”

“He’s upset because his Aunt Pol’ wouldn’t let him come caroling with us,” Arthur chuckles as you let out a huff of air.

“I take back the scrapping; I don’t want to fight the face of authority, instead I’ll stick to singing hymns and cooking over baked bread occasionally.”

You turn and smile at Arthur, offering a toothy grin. He smiles back and watches as you move side to side and blow hot air onto your mitten clad hands.

“If your hands get cold, you can put them in my pockets.”

Flitting your eyes up to meet his gaze you mumble a ‘thanks’ and feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.

The person running the caroling announces that you’re going to leave to begin caroling and Arthur offers the crook of his arm and you gladly accept, enjoying the warmth his body offered.

For the rest of the evening you and Arthur sang side by side, some would say more enthusiastically than the rest of the carollers in the female led group. Arthur told jokes in between houses once you begin house calls and even elicited a laugh or two from some of the others but that didn’t mean you hadn’t laughed with him all night long.

When the evening was coming to an end you perked up, “Hey, Arthur, wanna go for a drink in the Garrison? On me for keeping me company all night.”

“You know,” he says bumping his shoulder with yours, “that it’s always on me when we go in there.”

You roll your eyes, “Own the place or something? I’ve never seen you physically pay Harry, y’know. I’m beginning to think you’re secretly really rich and doing your bit for the community in secret.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything, just pats your hand that remains on his arm and chuckles along with you, “if only,” he mutters to himself.

[sandersstudies]

Espresso-ly for You - Chapter Two

I liiiiiive! Or at least, my writing does. Like I said, I can’t and won’t promise regular updates on this one, but the sweet sweet coffeeshop AU will never let me go for sure.

Chapter One Here 

***

“Hey there, long time no see!” Janus said over the top of his mug. It was the one he brought from home, with a snake for a handle. 

“I saw you on Sunday,” Virgil said, slouching his backpack off his shoulder to store in the employee cupboard. 

“Yeah, but so much has happened since then,” Janus said, and then sipped his drink loudly. “Did Logan tell you about the birds that were fighting outside on Tuesday?”

“No.”

“See, of course he didn’t, he doesn’t care about the fun stuff. God, you look exhausted, let me get you a pick-me-up, you raccoon.” He began to measure a shot of espresso.

“I’ve already been drinking way too much soda to stay awake,” Virgil said.

“I’m not giving you soda, am I?” Janus asked, turning on the steam wand. “I’m giving you sweet bean juice, it will give you things no other drink can.” The shots pulling from the espresso machine dripped like warm honey, and Virgil had to admit they looked enticing. Janus was the most skilled barista in the cafe, going to local barista competitions three years in a row, and making it to the final round the last two years. 

“One of the benefits of working here is all the free coffee you want,” Janus said. “Might as well take advantage of it.” He’d barely looked at the machine while preparing the milk and espresso, but now, with a few seconds of intense focus, he guided his pitcher across the surface of the crema to create a delicate rosetta. “There, my nicest flat white of the day, all for you.”

Virgil took the cup and sipped. Perfect, creamy foam. 

Janus picked up his own cup and slurped the last of the coffee inside. “Well, better prepare for the lunchtime rush,” he said, checking his watch. “How was it yesterday?”

“Not too bad.”

“If you want to run register and food the first hour, I’ll run bar and then we can switch,” Janus said, reaching behind himself to tighten his apron strings. “If it slows down I’ll do a restock but I think we should be fine.”

Janus had been the first barista to push Virgil to run the espresso machine solo. When the morning or lunch rush came and there was a line out the door, Janus would watch and speak encouragingly, but never step in to rescue him the way Logan did.

“See these two cups?” Janus had said one day when Virgil could barely hold a milk pitcher without shaking. “These two drinks are the only ones you need to worry about right now. All those other drinks, all those other people, they don’t exist to you. It doesn’t matter if there are three drinks or thirty drinks waiting, you’re always working on these two drinks, and two drinks only.”

Eventually Virgil learned how to fall into a rhythm where he prepped one shot as another one pulled, poured one milk as another one steamed. Janus would flit back and forth from the register to the hand-off, confidently ringing in and handing out drinks as Virgil’s hands shook too hard to stop cups from spilling.

“You don’t need me,” Janus had said. “Someday you’re gonna be stuck up to your elbows in cappuccinos and I’m not going to be here, and you’ll have to haul them out of yourself. If I rescue you now, you won’t be able to do it then.”

Virgil had burned with frustration that Janus wouldn’t help him. But when the line dwindled, Virgil found himself reaching for the next cup in line, and it wasn’t there. He’d done it, he’d seen only two drinks in front of him and had conquered a breakfast rush. The customers had become a blur, and he’d honed in on more lattes and macchiatos than he could count.

“The next challenge,” Janus had said as they shared coffee in the following lull. “Is to bring the customers into focus too. Two things matter in coffeeshops, the coffee, and the people. You can’t let either one distract from the other.”

“You want me to do all that and small talk?”

“It gets easier with time.”

The retrospect that proved Janus right didn’t help Virgil to not feel aghast at the suggestion. It was easy to envy Janus’ ease around customers, asking Wendy how her radishes were doing as he poured her coffee, telling jokes to kids, and showing them the swan he’d drawn in their father’s latte. 

Virgil tied his apron and went to the front register. He ran his fingers over the screen. Pretending to type up a long order was his key both to eavesdropping and to looking busy, especially if he furrowed his brow just enough to look focused. Whenever a particularly angry customer started to complain at the other end of the counter, here Virgil would be, tapping like he was crafting a novel and not hitting the button for “doppio” a dozen times in a row. Meanwhile Janus, usually, would be the one at the end, silver-tongued and composed, listening with raised eyebrows and a soft smile. He’d turn around only when the cafe was empty to say “could you believe that jerk?”

A gaggle of college girls in matching volleyball t-shirts approached, and Virgil glanced at Janus, who cracked his knuckles dramatically. “May the coffee gods guide me,” he said as the bell on the door jangled merrily. 

“Hi, what can I get for you?”

“Large iced vanilla soy latte.”

“Medium blended caramel coffee, extra caramel, whipped cream.”

“Small almond latte.”

And so on down the line. Janus remained unfazed, continuing to greet other customers who braved entering the store despite the line. He called out every drink he made and made eye contact with each girl who picked hers up, even (Virgil thought he saw) winking a couple times. The hum of the espresso machine and hiss of the steam wand filled the cafe, singing along to the piano playing over the speakers. Was this Logan’s playlist?

The line didn’t end, after that. The girls cleared and were replaced by tides of office workers in pressed clothes from the smattering of office buildings that hemmed in the coffee shop on all sides. Friendly receptionists and personal assistants were a favorite of Virgil’s, and were perhaps the only ones who called him by endearments that didn’t feel horribly awkward.  Most of them tipped well. 

The cafe chairs filled up, representing casual business talks, friendly meet-ups, and solitary breaks from long days. All the grind-never-stop types had the coffee to-go, and those taking a quick respite adored the cafe’s “for here” cups. Virgil liked to watch for the people who perked up or relaxed with their first sip. One of the personal assistants from the building across the street (Virgil thought her name was Jackie) put her cappuccino to her lips and leaned back into her chair, the tension around her eyes softening.

A moment came where a couple of middle-aged women paused to examine the menu, and Janus appeared as if by magic at the register. 

“Tag team, let’s go! Your turn on the bar, kid.” 

Virgil moved to the espresso machine. Janus had not only finished the drinks in front of him, but wiped down the counter and machine to leave Virgil the perfect surface to begin again. The middle-aged women put in their orders, and Virgil felt like his vision zoomed in as he began the two drinks in front of him, and the two after that, and the two-

He was getting better at this now, even managed a croaked “hello,” to most of the customers who walked in the door, and a “thank you” as they took their drinks. He let the steam wand run a few extra seconds to feel the warmth bead on his face every time he started to get anxious. 

The lunch rush came to its merciful end, and Virgil took his break to chew a PB&J sandwich before Janus left for the day. As the clock hit two, the elder barista pulled his keys from the cupboard.

“I bid you adieu and an easy close,” he said, twirling his keychain around his hand as he clocked out. The jingle of his keys was followed by the jangle of the door behind him, and Virgil was alone in the cafe.

He brewed fresh coffee - they’d almost run out during the rush, and pause to sweep the floors and wipe down the counters. Running the store for the last three hours before close, and the chance to close the store by himself was both a responsibility and a chance for peace that Virgil appreciated. He liked helping customers, more spread out then before, and in between them finding little things to clean, extra minutes to practice his latte art - damn, how could Janus draw a rosetta so effortlessly? All Virgil’s came out looking like lumps. 

He aerated the milk gently, and heard the front bell ting.

“Hey there,” Virgil said without looking up, tilting his pitcher so the foam was perfectly incorporated. He turned the steam wand off and gently groomed the milk to pour. “Sorry, I’ll be right with you.” 

The milk texture was almost perfect. He guided his pitcher over the crema and… produced a haphazard rosetta. It was lopsided and a little mangled from Virgil swirling the crema too hard, but it wasn’t one of his worst attempts.

“Hey, that looks pretty good!” 

Virgil looked up and felt his ears get hot. Roman was leaning slightly over the bar (oh wow, he was even taller than Virgil had thought), staring at the cup. “Could you do one like that for me?”

Virgil swallowed. “Yeah uh… yeah, sure.” Nevermind that it was much harder to make oat milk froth properly. Virgil grabbed his non-dairy pitcher.

“Oh, could you make it as an large cinnamon-”

“Yeah, I got it.” Oh no, I cut him off. In too deep now. Virgil felt Roman’s gaze on him as he made the latte. The cinnamon-sugar topping made a nice base to draw with, but Virgil didn’t have as much experience with oat and soy, and the rosetta was barely visible as he finished it. Roman stared into the cup.

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered. “Still practicing.” 

“Oh, that’s okay,” Roman said, but sounded a bit disappointed. He left a ten on the counter. “Thanks for trying, the extra’s for you.” 

He left the cafe, and Virgil watched him vanish down the street, but just before he was out of sight, he put the to-go cup to his lips, and Virgil saw his shoulders relax.

[leatherbookmarking]

hello! as you might have noticed i changed my icon. it’s a-yao now

celebratory headcanons/concepts™ from twitter (mostly xiyao/sanzun):

1. after the first occasion jgy gets to kiss him as much as he likes, poor lxc has to wear a face mask because he looks... concerning.

someone’s like oh, did you catch a cold? lxc (thinking about his boyfriend passionately committing to his "someone tried to eat my face" look): haha yes, one iced coffee too many ^__^

2.  a concept: jgy, a person who absolutely intertwines his legs with lxc's when they're about to sleep, to the point that lxc isn't entirely sure which legs are his, only to disentangle himself away 15 minutes later because Hot

a-yao is Small and thus automatically a pre-sleep wiggler. one leg under the cover, the other on top of it. no, gotta change them. the cover is too hot, hot move. turn over. spread legs. bend leg. dangle one feet over the edge of the bed. hmm, walls are cold. leg on wall

lxc, hoarsely: a-yao. love of my life. my sun and stars. my little goldcrest. I am going to tie you to the bedpost in a non-recreational way

jgy, who has melted away after "love of my life": (gently wraps the vines of his person around the post of lan xichen's sexy torso)

3. sometimes (always) i think about modern jiggy being a dancer and sometimes (always) i imagine him moving something like mr taemin out there. like this kind of... fluid grace. he traces an arc in the air with his hand and it's like drawn with a protractor. every minuscule movement is planned. add his controlled expressions to this and you've got a What The Fuck How Is He Real

4.  in a scenario where xiyao elope (no i will not shut up. ever), what do people think about the situation? gotta be "jgy, the EVIL FUCK, has kidnapped our beacon of light and goodness, zewu-jun!"

"but two men similar to them have been spotted in some places, and they appear friendly with each other... so..."

"witchcraft! jin guangyao has controlled zewu-jun's mind! who knows if he didn't turn him into a fierce corpse!"

the first person to find them fucking under a tree sure is in for a, let's say, surprise

5. thought of the day: meng yao deserved a big ass head piece. and silver in his hair. those little chains like jin ling had, that clink quietly when he moves his head. meng yao deserved to be as decked out as possible in gusu lan sect! and for people to look at him and see just how precious he is to sect leader lan!

lan-fujun... when he walks into the room, it's like a silver-white river nymph came to live among humans 

(on the other hand: meng yao thinking about his mother. and about himself, as a child, dreaming of being accepted by his father, a powerful cultivator. they'd be free, and meng yao would become a great cultivator too, and give his mother the prettiest rooms, the best clothes, the most delicious food, anything she wants. she would never need anything, because she'd have everything. that's how it would be, and he, meng yao, will make sure of it!)

6. MODERN AU BUT BAXIA IS A POMERANIAN.

i was thinking black/tan because nie colors, BUT if she was white, it would add to the wonderful contrast... or sable. you know, because sabre... sable... not funny? sorry. look at the cute dog though

i'm not saying nmj is from the 'hey i am a big burly man with a tiny dog' school of hitting on people. BUT it is a fact that when he's having someone over for a fuck, he likes to see confusion and terror flash in their eyes as he tells them he wants to introduce them to the most important woman in his life just. i just think that would be neat (he likes to observe people before he invites them over. just to figure out if they would be that kind of person who has to be reminded why they're here. not that he's against baxia getting love! just,)

something something maybe he got her to learn to be more gentle because his early life left him a blunt and unapproachable. OR MAYBE it was a gift from huaisang? so he can have someone to take care of when he moves out? (nmj: oh, so you ARE moving out? nice! when? nhs:          )

anyway they often converse. as in, nmj always kindly asks her not to nibble on things and in most cases, she obliges. but sometimes someone forgets to take their socks out of their shoes and they smell SO DELICIOUSLY, a lady has to have her pleasures, alright? "buy her chewing toys" oh? so she graces them with one scathing look and ignores them forever? this woman's most precious item is mingjue's old sock, with holes on both the toe and heel area. he's tied it in a knot. she usually carries it to her preferred places of Chewing but always remembers to bring it back to her bed for the night. one night jgy gets up to get a glass of water and sees nmj, with baxia on the countertop, two socks in front of her. "THIS one is good", nmj says patiently, pointing, "and THIS one is a no" she bites down on the latter

nie "i get nothing but disrespect from small dogs and people under 180cm" mingjue

if baxia doesn't like someone, he automatically Doesn't Trust Them. baxia has a very love/hate relationship with jgy. initially she was very waggy about him. then at some point she grew cold

is it a new cologne she doesn't like? he tries bringing her snacks. she nibbles at them for a minute then abandons them w/ no care. she walks away from him when he's using a cute voice and feigns deafness when he's speaking normally. there can only be ONE tiny thing in this house

(sometimes nmj Squints at jgy but jgy is Trying, and it's rather entertaining to see him on the floor, dog hair on his pants, ruthlessly ignored by 2kg of Fuck You. so)

(xichen, of course, has her unending adoration, although, of course, she loves mingjue the best)

...how does she treat huaisang? i'm thinking With Enthusiasm. he looks friendly! he makes fun noises when you surprise bark at him! truly a man worth playing with. she expresses that opinion by lovingly biting his toes. sometimes he accidentally walks into her. woe! woe!! Father, help!!! Violence! Hate!!

@xiyao-feels: I just have this image of like. Her being out with NHS and seeing another dark and starting to bark furiously and try to attack because she must! Defend! NHS!

(making her stop is a work in progress, nhs is very protectable) i had a dog that, due to Circumstances, wasn't socialized properly, so she'd bark at every dog she met. she was small but she DID scare some friendly big dogs away. "why is this tiny thing shouting :("

....sometimes when she yaps at jgy, jgy... yaps back, mockingly. and then it BEGINS (at some point nhs records it and posts on yt as "pomeranians having a shouting match")  oh, no, it's fine! jgy understands. it was quite funny indeed. and the fact that for a month after that she gets into nhs' room to wake him up, or that his favourite t-shirts somehow are covered with dog hair? it's the draught, and the power of baxia's love :-)

xiyao-feels: He convinces NMJ that NHS really needs to learn more about how to handle a dog, and enrolls him in some training

"it's important that all household members get along :-)" he also blissfully records her doing her best to steal nhs' sock from his foot

nmj: see, that means she likes you!

nhs, sadly: no, da-ge. that means my toe hurts, and that i am one sock poorer

xiyao-feels:  JGY starts deliberately vanishing NHS' socks when doing laundry, blames Baxia They're probably really fancy. I don't know what really fancy socks even look like but I bet NHS does

probably very smooth and pleasant to wear. nhs likes to live fancy, after all. well, baxia likes that too now!! whatcha gonna do!! at some point someone (xichen) notices the whole house is just four grown up men giving regular sacrifice to a tiny bitchy dog. incredible

at some point they introduce her to jc's gals. it looks like this