#i slept . quite bad last night because well because i had a third coffee and i KNOW when my fight w insomnia every night. is dicey at best.

[dykefever]

everyone RELAX it’s FINE!! because ridi and i are hanging out today i know you were all very stressed. because it had been a few weeks :-) and the world was like. all distorted and terrible but everything is fine now the birds will start chirping again :-)

[magicandpizza]

Anika knew who Jesper Fahey was before she’d ever joined the Dregs. While Kaz’s name carries weight, and perhaps a small shudder of fear, Jesper’s name comes with a knowing smirk and some sort of comment on his sexual prowess. She’d deny it if anyone ever asked her, but the truth of the matter is that she has slept with him. Just the once, as is his way, and his reputation is entirely true. He is, unfortunately, a very good shag, and his list of previous bedfellows is probably longer than Anika’s entire arm.

It comes as very little surprise to her when a rumour starts circulating amongst the gang that Fahey had not only previously slept with their brand new demo man, but had also, apparently, forgotten about it. What is surprising, though, is that Jesper has apparently gone back for seconds (and thirds, and fourths…), because said demo man practically lives at the Slat nowadays, and the pair are frequently together.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Anika whispers. She’s sitting at a table at the Crow Club nursing a well-earned beer after finishing her shift.

Beside her, Pim raises an eyebrow but his eyes stay locked on the sight of notorious flirt Jesper Fahey contentedly sitting beside his… boyfriend? What is his name anyway? Henderson? Hen… something. It’s on the tip of her tongue. The demo man is tucked happily tucked up against Fahey’s side, grinning at him over the rim of his glass.

For the life of her, Anika cannot work out what it is about him that has Jesper so transfixed. Sure, he is objectively good-looking, though men with pretty eyes and delicate features don’t really do it for her, and he must be clever if he knows his way around explosives, but in their - admittedly limited - interactions since Hendriks joined the Dregs, she’s found him kind of meek. Unassuming.

“It won’t last,” Pim says eventually. “He’ll get bored. This is Fahey we’re talking about after all.”

Anika hums. She traces her fingers over the droplets of condensation running down the side of her beer glass, then takes a long drink. See, normally she’d agree with Pim. But the pair have already been to Ravka and back, and she has a sneaking suspicion that the messy-haired demo man - and really, what is his name? - might actually have fully moved into Fahey’s room.

“I don’t know Pim, I feel like this is different.”

-

A few weeks later and Anika is ready to tear her hair out. She’s never paid too much attention to the fact that her room is directly next to Jesper’s, but now that it’s Jesper and Wylan’s room, well, that’s another matter. To put it simply, Anika has overheard more than she ever needed to over the past few weeks, and it’s seriously starting to grate.

She glares at Jesper as he enters the living area at the Slat. He’s alone, but pours two cups of coffee anyway, taking both with him as he joins her and Nina at their table.

“You’re very loud, you know that?” Anika says around a mouthful of lacklustre porridge.

Nina snorts into her breakfast, but Jesper only grins with the self-satisfied smirk of someone who is having good sex and a lot of it.

“I could buy you some earplugs, if you like.”

Anika scowls at him. “You could try asking loverboy to keep it down.”

“I could,” Jesper says mildly with a shrug of his shoulders. He drums his fingers against the table as he raises his mug to his lips. “But I quite like the noises he makes.”

Anika seriously considers hitting him.

“It’s not just Wylan, they’re both as bad as each other,” Nina grumbles, stabbing at a piece of sausage a little too forcefully. “Do you know, Anika, I’m pretty sure I heard this one,” she gestures at Jesper with her fork, “begging the other night. Seems quite unlike you, what was Wylan doing, hm?”

“He has very talented fingers,” Jesper says, pointedly ignoring the gagging noise Anika directs at him. “And don’t take it out on me just because Kaz hasn’t smuggled Matthias out of Hellgate yet. You should be happy at least some of us are getting laid.”

Nina opens her mouth to respond, but quickly shuts it again when Wylan drops into the empty chair next to Jesper, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as he does so. Anika scowls at him too for good measure. Surely, she thinks, it can’t get any worse than this.

She is proved disgustingly wrong when Nina’s Fjerdan slab of fur moves into the Slat a week later, and the pair upgrade to a bigger room. Surely all the Saints must hate her, because the room they move into is directly above hers.

[pbandjesse]

I am so happy to be home. It was such a nice weekend. But man. I missed my house and my bed.

Especially because I slept so poorly last night. My back was killing me. I couldn't get comfortable and I laid wide awake for hours. Jess apparently didn't sleep well either. So we were both pretty quiet this morning. We got home an hour later. Got packed up. I got washed and dressed. And we double checked we had everything before checking out. And then we were off.

We drove down the street to the pancake house again. We had some trouble with parking. They had an app for street parking and it was not user friendly. But Jess sorted it out and we went to have breakfast.

We had the same waitress as yesterday. She recognized us. She was very nice.

Jess got the same little pancakes from yesterday and I decided to get stuffed French toast and it was so good. I was very happy with my choice.

When we finished breakfast we would have enough time to walk back to the town center to go and get the sweatshirts we wanted. This is our third matching sweatshirts of the year. The man and woman who worked there were really nice and complimented out style. We chatted about the sweatshirts for a bit and fashion and it was nice.

We made another little stop at a neat gift shop. Where I bought mini brass spoons. And we just had enough time for coffee (and half and half for me) and got back to the car with 2 minutes to spare.

We started heading out of town. We stopped at an antique store that ended up being a lot of fun. There was a cyber truck in the parking lot which was wild to see close up. They are just. So dumb looking. I saw someone say that they kind of look like a potato you peeled with a knife. I don't disagree.

Jess got quite a few cool things. Some billiards themed shot glasses. An apple pie dish. Some Morton Salt printed cups. I found find a precious little brown bear and the tiniest watch that has scarab beetles around the band. The watch part was broken but I have an idea for the rest of it.

We were in high spirits when we left. We did get a little stuck in the parking lot. But Jess got us out and we were off.

Our last activity was to go to the zoo. I had good memories of this zoo from when I was a kid. My dad's dad Ron lived out in Cape May and while we didn't have much of a relationship, the few times we visited I remember going to this zoo. I thought it was called the popcorn zoo but that ended up being something near by. This was just the county zoo. But it was as good as I remembered. The enclosures all felt large and good and I loved seeing all the animals. There were some favorites. I loved the tortoises. And the otters. The red panda was really active. And the giraffes were amazing. I was just having such a good time. I pet the goats. We talked to a cow. Jess was a bit tired and said we saw "to many animals". Because I drug her all around the park. But it was just a really fun day. Even if we were tired.

We lucked out with the weather and I was just really happy.

Once we were done looking at the animals we went to the cafe for lunch. She got chicken tenders, I got a grilled cheese, we shared fries. I decided to get a souvenir cup because the zoo was free and I always feel like you should support in some way if you get free entry. So the cup would be my souvenir. And when we were done eating we went to the gift shop and Jess got a little crab plushie. Very cute.

We had an hour and a half until we were back at her house. We were quiet most of the ride. Both very tired. It started raining but it was never to bad. We were both just very ready to go home.

We arrived back at Jess's at 345. And after moving all my stuff over and using her bathroom, I was off. Hugs all around and promises to let her know when I got home safe.

And I didn't have a terrible drive. It was raining. I did see a car fire. But it was an hour and a half. I listened to music. Made myself cry listening to show tunes. But I got home at 520 and was very very happy to be back. I was exhausted.

James came outside and hugged on me and helped me bring things inside. I was so happy to see them

I'm really glad our paths crossed tonight before they headed to the football game. James would help me unpack my bag. I was so tired. I just wanted to sit on the bed. I gave them the little gifts I got for them. And they told me about their weekend. We hung out in bed for a half hour before it was time for them to go.

And I would just spend the evening resting. I felt horrible for a bit. I would make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and had some milk and that helped. I tried to pick outfits for the week but I'm not thrilled with them so that may change. I would hang out with sweetp. Tidy up some stuff around the house. I took a bath. I washed my hair. I painted my toes. I just chilled.

Now I'm laying in bed texting James because I think there is a mosquito in here and it keeps biting me. Very annoying how itchy my hand is. But it's fine. I'll live. I guess!!

James still won't be home for a while. But I think I will start getting ready for bed. It was a very long weekend. And such a wonderful time but I am very very tired.

Tomorrow I'm going to spend the day with my husband and it will be a lovely day. I hope you all have a great night. Sleep well. Until tomorrow!

[emwritesstuff]

housesitting | bucky barnes x reader

summary: Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything.

You can hardly see how Bucky Barnes stumbling into his apartment at 3 am with multiple wounds is one of them. But I guess it might be?

notes: this is my attempt at a more ~comedy centered one-shot, with some making out in the middle because uh, who doesn’t like that? In other news, reader is Chaotic. Canon mcu (Infinity War/Endgame) is non-existent in this.  (word count: 3K)

warnings: language, mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general patching up shenanigans, some making out/grinding but not quite third base

[PART 2: breaking and entering]

Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything. An old popsicle thing, you assume.

It’s peaceful, too. The neighborhood is nice and quiet, the other tenants are either extremely polite or too scared of Captain America to make much noise. You’ve had very nice stay-cations at his place, where you were free to choose to binge The Office while eating an entire pizza in the spam of 2 episodes or taking advantage of the quiet to write your grad-school thesis.

So when a loud BANG almost makes you drop your coffee mug on the floor, your spidey senses are immediately on alert. You don’t care how many times Peter insisted that it wasn’t a thing, your arm hairs stood up and your heart started hammering on your chest all the same.

You contemplate squeezing under the bed, turning off the show that was long abandoned and hiding until whatever it is goes away, but before you can do any of that, a string of sharp cursing and soft thumps and thuds snaps you out of your fear.

Maybe it’s a burglar. You could take a clumsy burglar, easy.

Now feeling like Tony had just welcomed you into the Avengers, you hop off Steve’s bed and let your baby Yoda socked feet carry you stealthily into the living room, holding a table lamp as if it was a baseball bat.

Everything is quiet, with no signs of forced entry at the door (you remember someone on Law and Order using those words), and in the dark you don’t notice the bloody trail coming from the kitchen.

You’re imagining things, then. When was the last time you slept? You don’t even feel tired, but you know sleep deprivation always gets you all kinds of crazy.

It happens the second your arm falls to your side and your posture shows the slight of relaxation. A strong arm around your neck and a hand against your mouth to muffle the screaming.

In the quiet of Steve’s apartment building, there is only you shrieking and howling and thrashing against the hold of a stranger.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You still.

And then you bite into the hand that is muting you, immediately regretting it when your teeth sink into something hard. Metal? Concrete? Ouch. You resume your resistance, determined, and is shoved away.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you.” His voice is gruff and dulled over the mask he is wearing, and as you’re taking this giant of a man in, you notice it.

The metal arm. The strapped leather jacket. The tortured blue eyes.

Winter Soldier.

The intruder is James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve’s best friend. That’s who the fuck it is.

“I’m Steve’s house sitter! I even have a key.” You say, with arms in front of you to signal no harm but inching closer to the table lamp with every step.

“House…sitter? Where’s Steve?”

“Who knows. Maybe a mission. He texts me, I come over.” You shrug, and put a chair back to where it was before it got knocked over.

“I don’t believe you. Where is Steve?”

“Listen, I don’t know, okay? I guess he’s just out for a few days. I don’t ask. He just lets me stay in here so I can water the plants and feed the Avengers.”

“The– the what?”

“The Avengers! The fish, see.” You point to the aquarium, where a handful of colorful fish swam peacefully in.

Peace. So much for your peace, because now what you have is a surly super soldier eyeing the fish tank like it was the most loathsome thing in the entire universe, except maybe for you.

“I hate this thing. Naming them makes it even worse.” He trudges back to the kitchen, stomping on the floor like he was on a parade.

So much for the other people’s peace, too.

“Hey! Sir. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 in the fucking morning?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips when he retorts that yeah, he does know. “What are you even doing here?”

“Back from a mission.” He grumbles without looking at you, as if you’re the one who stumbled into his place in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t your place, but still.

“Don’t you have a house?” There’s a part of you that knows pushing the Winter Soldier’s buttons is asking for trouble, but your tired and confused brain decides to ignore it.

“You interrogating me? I need a motherfucking– ” He wheezes and nearly doubles over, holding on the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. You finally spot the blood, both on the tiles and seeping out of the Soldier’s jacket and pants.

He’s hurt. Shit.

“– first aid kit.”

“You need a motherfucking hospital!” You shrill, panic chilling your bones. You don’t do blood. Or any kind of wound, for that matter.

The man ignores you, opening up cabinets hastily. You huff, and walk past him to get to the actual home of the first aid kit. Steve’s oldest, closest friend and can’t even find a box with pharmaceutical supplies in his kitchen. You slam it on the counter next to him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Zip it.”

Just a look from him is enough to render you speechless, and not in the good, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way. You’re positive that one swat of that metal arm and you’ll be flying out of the window.

He begins by removing his mask, revealing a handsome face underneath, and you try your best to focus on how dark and menacing it looked while locked in that scowl of his. Then, he unbuckles his jacket and discards it on the floor, it coming to a stop next to your feet.

Oh man, he’s naked. Well, not really, just the incredibly toned, strong and muscular top half of him, but you stare wide-eyed as if he was.

“See somethin’ you like, doll?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you turn your back to him, mostly to hide your own embarrassment.

“No.” You cross your arms resolutely, because you definitely don’t think he’s attractive. He is a rude, grumpy, private-property-invader-bastard. Doll. Yuck.

You hear a rumble come out of his chest. Is he laughing? Shithead. Other noises follow, wheezes, small grunts and the tinkle of metal on the marble counter.

A particular pained grunt makes you turn, and you see Barnes with his body twisted, trying to reach a bloody hole on his back. It would be funny if he wasn’t trying to poke a gunshot.

“Do you need… help?” You ask, against your own will, only to be met with his icy gaze.

“No.”

“Come on, you can’t even reach that.”

Another glare is shot your way, and you quirk your brow up. He did need the help, you think, because aside from the muscles and the sweat making him glisten like a delicious – wait what – glazed donut, the man looked like hell.

“…fine.” He slides a pair of surgical prongs, something you identify in your head as oversized tweezers, and you instantly regret your offer. Pressing an iodine-soaked cotton ball to a wound, sure. But not this.

He turns his back to you without a word, supporting himself on the marble. You think that he’s about to make a dent on the goddamn stone if he keeps holding onto it that hard.

“Ah, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Ugh, it’s so gross. Fuck.”

It’s the most horrifying thing you’ve ever done, but you try your best to get to the bullet quickly, so very thankful that Barnes holds himself perfectly still for you. “Got it!”

He lets out a long breath when you toss the prongs and the bullet on the counter with the rest and resumes his cleanup. So, he’s not even going to say thanks. Great.

You try not to think about how you still want to make conversation while you hurriedly scrub the blood from your hands, because aside from the hostility and him jumping on you as a meet-cute, the guy peeks your interest.

Steve has said Barnes is nice, too, and you believed Steve, because he’s basically incapable of lying. Or maybe because he’s pretty. Both, for sure.

With your hands now clean, you turn to him, mouth open with some kind of conversation starter that is immediately forgotten.

Oh man, he’s naked. For real this time.

Bucky Barnes has stepped out of his pants while you were overthinking by the sink, now standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s like he feels you staring at his butt, because he turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Last one’s on my thigh. I got it.” He’s holding the prongs this time, and you’re glad you don’t have to do anything, because your face next to that groin might make you go into spontaneous combustion.

“Yeah.”

He hums. You hope all of this is a fever dream.

“Isn’t there a med bay at–”

“Don’t like people prodding and pokin’ at me.” His comment makes you grimace. He’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. You know the stories, everyone does. Of course he doesn’t like being prodded.

He looks at you funny, probably because you went dead quiet. You don’t want him to think you feel pity, because you don’t, but god don’t you feel bad for poking him now, even if verbally.

“I’m gonna – grab one of Steve’s – uh. Dude you need to put some clothes on. Jesus.”

He laughs at you again, which you’re thankful for because anything is better than the awkwardness of the other subject. You pick up a black pair of sweatpants that was so deep in one of Steve’s drawers that you know he’d have to have bought it and never had the guts to put it on. This one would do just fine.

If there is one thing Steve Rogers isn’t, is a black sweats guy.

“Here.” You deposit the sweats and a white tee on the counter, one of the millions that you found inside the closet. Barnes was patching himself up now, bandages wrapped everywhere on his body.

Got his ass kicked good. You shudder when you imagine the state of the other guy.

He eyes the clothes, and saying nothing, returns to his task. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me.”

“Yeah, but I did anyways! ‘Cause I’m stupid, I guess.” You almost hurl a dirty plate at him when he scoffs, muttering a yeah, guess you are. “God, why are you so grumpy?”

“Well you try being shot 5 times and see how cheerful you are after.”

“You got shot 5 times?!”

Looking at you from between his brows, the Soldier nods to the five mangled bullets sitting on the counter. You think about how you’ve made yourself a sandwich just hours earlier on the exact same spot. You want to puke.

Taking time to look around yourself, you can finally grasp the state of Steve’s ever-so-pristine kitchen, now a mess of dirty clothes, blood and your own few dishes from the night before. You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you move, gathering every single cleaning supply you can find, and start working on the cleanup.

You’re struggling, because obviously you’ve never done this before. Anyone can tell, from your soft abdomen and your severe lack of muscle, that you’re not an Avenger. Sure, you work with them, but you’re usually neck deep into advanced tech, not in the gym by any means. Also, you don’t do blood.

That means you have to think about something else, anything else, while you’re manically cleaning the floor. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, the Winter Soldier’s tight ass, four sheep, get it together goddamnit –

“Leave it. I’ll clean.”

You huff, he huffs back, and you look up at him.

“You got shot five times. Go sit down or something before you blow your back too, grandpa.” You call him that to assure yourself that he is old, like actually super old, and thirsting over him is weird. Even weirder when he’s all bandaged and bleeding. And still shirtless. Shit.

He mumbles something that you ignore, and stomps off. You think you actually did a pretty decent job with the cleaning, considering.

You need coffee. Definitely an entire bottle of vodka too, but there was no alcohol in this god’s good home, so you settle for the brew that you made earlier. You pour a mug for Barnes too, because you’re nice like that, and amble into the living room to find him slumped on a chair.

“Coffee?” You start, settling his mug on the table next to him.

“It’s almost 5 a.m.”

“Guess I’m up early for once. Maybe I should go for a run.”

He snorts, and opens one eye to inspect you from where he is. He reaches out for the coffee, using his metal hand, and you consider the two ways this could go.

He’d shatter the mug right then and there. Or, he’d throw it at you. Your jaw goes slack at what he actually does, sirens blaring loudly in your head. Truly astonishing, the most bewildering turn of events.

He drinks from it.

“Thanks. Quit staring at me.”

“Wow, Mr. Winter knows the magic words. Mr. Barnes. Sergeant?” You’re thinking aloud, abandoning any trace of sanity you’ve been holding. You even sit on the couch next to his armchair.

“It’s Bucky,”

Again, absolutely bewildering. You must be going insane.

“– and you talk too much.” He finishes, with an end-of-story tone, and returns to his rest. At least that felt like normality.

“Bucky. Bucky.” You roll the name on your tongue, feeling a weird buzz start to take over you. It grows stronger when you notice he’s looking at you, one brow quirked as if you lost your marbles. “You know, Bucky, this is definitely not how I saw my night going. Home invasion, playing surgeon – not my usual kind of fun.”

You get up, maybe because you decide that you – and Bucky – need a blanket, or maybe because you need a distraction from his chest going up and down like it’s got a business with making you want to touch it.

You’re not a slut, but who knows? Jim Halper would get it.

“You’re that kid, aren’t you? Stark’s assistant.” Bucky’s voice, low and husky, makes you jump. You look at him, your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

It’s surprising that he knows you, considering. He’s – well, he’s basically a celebrity, if ex-assassins could be considered that. You’re only Tony’s techie, and you and Bucky have never actually met, not even in the few parties you had attended to stop your boss from nagging you that you had to actually go out and have some fun sometimes, because you’re still young and cute and you need to enjoy yourself before you get saggy and bitter.

Jokes on him, you were born bitter.

“I’m no kid.”

“Nice socks.”

You wiggle your toes and it makes the ears of one of the baby Yodas move.

“Still not a kid! If you wanna be sad and wear your sad, plain socks, Bucky, that’s entirely your choice.” You said, pointing your index at him, making circles in the air with it to really get your point across.

Bucky smirks, and you go up to him with the two blankets on your arms. He’s blocking the door with that bulky body of his, and you raise your eyebrows quizzically.

“I’ll have you know – meeting Steve’s annoying, mouthy, pretty house sitter is not how I saw my night going either.” Bucky puts a doubtful tone on house sitter, as if he still doesn’t get exactly what it means.

You blink. You’re positive you heard it wrong. Is he… is this flirting?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I called you annoying and mouthy too.”

“Yeah, I mean I know that much about me.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “The pretty part is new though.”

Bucky still hasn’t moved from the doorframe, and you find yourself staring up at him. He is inches away now, pupils blown wide in the darkness, and you can see a ring of steely blue around them. He licks his lips, and you’re drawn in.

The maelstrom in his eyes sends you spinning.

“I think someone should say you’re not see through, much less–”

Bucky shuts you up by pressing his lips onto yours, a slow, exploratory kiss, the tenderest he’s been all night. His metal hand rests on your lower back, making you shiver at the cool touch.

You’re all panting and eagerness when you cup his face with both hands and press your body against his. You need to deepen this kiss. You haven’t drooled over Bucky Barnes all night to keep things lovey-dovey.

He responds in earnest, pulling you closer. The flesh hand on the back of your neck is a stark contrast against the chill of the other. You and Bucky stumble from the corridor and back to the living room, knocking over a few of Steve’s decorations in the process.

“I don’t feel as bad for this one.” You mumble against his lips, stopping to look at a particular framed picture of Captain America in uniform, surrounded by every single counterfeit Cap in Times Square.

“S’ one of his favorites.”

You nod, you’re aware. Steve thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

Bucky’s breath tickles the hairs on your neck when he continues.

“I hate it.”

“Yeah.”

You capture his lips again, and you two resume your chaotic redecorating. You’re thankful for Bucky’s strong arms keeping you from falling over, because at this point you’re not sure if your legs work anymore.

He takes you with him when he drops down on the same armchair from earlier, and the dizzy spell you find yourself in is broken when you hear him groan.

Right. He’s battered up and stuff.

“Shit, Bucky, I’m sorry–”

“No.” He pulls you close again, and guides your body to straddle one of his thighs. “Stay right here, doll.”

Doll. God-fucking-damnit.

His hand moves under the elastic band of your pants, oh my god you’re making out with Bucky-Hot-Piece-Of-Ass-Barnes in your wiener dog pajama bottoms, and finds the hem of your underwear. He pulls on it, and you yelp when he lets it snap against your side.

He laughs, and you vibrate along with his chest.

You find yourself grinding on his leg, sucking on his bottom lip, raking your nails along his shoulders, doing anything, everything for more, trying to burn the taste and the feel of him on your memory. He moves on to kiss your neck and you sigh, tugging on his hair and making sure you’re holding on for dear life.

Your eyes flutter open, enough to see the fish Avengers in their tank.

The Avengers.

Steve Rogers is an Avenger. So is Bucky, technically.

You’re making out with Bucky. One of his hands is on your boob.

This is Steve’s apartment.

You manage to sober you up enough, despite Bucky’s constant attacks of open mouth kisses and bites on your neck.

“I don’t think Steve would – if we–” You lift your head begrudgingly to look at him. “You know, on his armchair.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but his hand moved up from your butt to your waist again.

Steve Rogers was probably miles away right now and still cockblocking you.

Even worse, his furniture was cockblocking you.

Stupid star-spangled IKEA shopper.

And his hot best friend. Who’s currently smiling at you in a such a way that makes you almost abandon all comradery towards Rogers and the sanctity of his place.

You debate getting up, but resign yourself to burying your nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck and just staying there, because honestly, when are you going to have the chance to do this again. Never, that’s when.

Also, he’s surprisingly comfortable for someone with a metal arm and such a jacked-up body.

“You’re sleepy.”

“No, I’m like, super awake.”

It’s a lie, because now that the sparks have flown and the rush of blood in your ears gave way to the quietness of the early morning, you feel yourself drifting, on and off, surprising yourself when you come to once and find that Bucky is still there, warm under you.

“Sleep, doll. I need it too.”

You shift, ready to let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep. The last 75 sleepless hours catch up with you.

“Bucky? If you want to break into someone’s house again sometime – I have a first aid kit too. Just sayin’.”

[islesnucks]

LAST NIGHT I TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU - NOLAN PATRICK X READER

this started as a tyler seguin fic, was almost a brock boeser one for a second and turned out to be about Nolan lol

this was not proofread so yeah keep that in mind as you read it 

Word Count: 2k

Warning: mention of alcohol (?)

Smmary: the morning after you drunkenly confessed your feelings to Nolan - slightly inspired by the song Last Night by Lucy Spraggan

Masterlist

Add yourself to the taglist!

-

Last night I told you I loved you

Woke up blamed it on the Vodka

I genuinely thought I was dyin'

And I could see that smile you were hiding

-

You woke up and the first thing you felt was pain. There was a banging in your head and your stomach felt sick. Memories from last night were blurry, there surely was alcohol involved. The last thing you remembered was walking into the bar with Nolan and TK by your side, then there was vodka involved. Or was it tequila? Maybe even both?

Feeling like the slightest move would make you throw up, you decided to snuggle further into the sheets trying to go back to sleep, hoping a couple more hours of sleep would make you feel better. That’s when you heard barks coming from outside the room, making your head pound. Then your eyes went wide when it hit you: you don’t own any dogs.

Looking around you confirmed this indeed wasn’t your bedroom, it was Nolan’s. The curtains were shut so the room was dark and you couldn’t see much, but you were able to make out your dress from last night folded on top of the armchair beside the bed.

You looked down and realized you indeed weren’t using your clothes, instead you had one of his old shirts on. Then you noticed your underwear was still on, a good sign you thought. But still you couldn’t remember anything from last night and that terrified you.

You weren't scared of what you could have done, you knew having the boys by your side ensure you nothing bad would happen. So you weren't scared that you had somehow ended up drunkenly dancing on top of  a table or making out with a complete stranger. No, the problem was that alcohol always loosened your tongue. What you were scared of was having confessed something you had worked so hard on holding in.

Gathering a little courage and still feeling like you may throw up any second, you got out of bed and made your way out of the room. The clacking of a pan and smell coming from the kitchen let you know Nolan was probably there cooking some breakfast or maybe lunch, you didn’t know what time it was. Taking one last deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, you made your way down the hall to the kitchen.

He was with his back to you, too busy stirring something on a pan to realize you had entered the room. That’s when his dogs approached you excited to see you, making him turn around to find you still half asleep, hair in a messy bun, some rests of makeup from last night on your face, dressed in his shirt that were long enough to cover everything. You were sure you looked horrible but he found it cute, the smile that formed on his face showed it.

“Hey, you’re alive.” He turned off the stove and proceeded to place what turned out to be scrambled eggs on two plates.

“I feel like shit.” You took a seat on one of the barstools by the kitchen island.

“Sorry, did the bark wake you? I was keeping them in the living room so they wouldn’t bother you but Charlie sneaked out.” he said, giving the dog a stern look, but Charlie was too distracted enjoying as you petted him to notice.

“No don’t worry I was already awake, agonizing in bed, but awake.”

He placed the plate with everything he had cooked and a cup of coffee in front of you and you thanked him as he took a seat next to you. He was quiet per usual, but the Nolan you knew would have thrown some snarky remark about how much of a lightweight you are and he’s never going out with you again. That concerned you a bit. However he seemed normal, no awkward looks or anything that made you think you had messed up in any way last night.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” he suddenly said bringing you back to reality. There it was, something did happen. You could feel your heart in your throat, but you tried to play it cool.

“No… Wait we didn’t-”

“No!” he was quick to cut you off, slightly offended that you thought that could’ve happened. “You were wasted Y/N, I’d never take advantage like that.” He then realized he admitted nothing happened because you were drunk, not because he didn’t want it to happen; but you were too busy panicking to realize.

“I know, I know. It’s just that I woke up in your bed, with your clothes on.” you tried to explain.

“We ubered back here, you were asleep the whole ride, I helped you change your clothes and gave you my bed. I slept on the couch.” Relief washed over your body, deep down you knew nothing like that could have happened, but hearing it made you feel better, like a huge weight was being taken off your shoulders.

“Thank you Nols, you didn’t have to.”

“Leaving you alone in your apartment in the state you were in felt wrong.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m glad to know I didn’t do anything too stupid at the club.” you said, letting out a deep breath you didn’t even notice you had been holding on to.

“Well you didn’t do anything stupid at the club...” He didn't finish but that was enough to make you choke on the coffee you had been drinking.

“Shit what did I do?”

“Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry.” He brushed it off as he stood with his empty plate in hand and walked over to the sink.

“Nolan …” you questioned him, but he still wouldn’t look at you. Yet you could see the smile he was trying to hide and that was all the confirmation you needed. Something definitely happened. You got off your seat and made your way around the kitchen island.

“Nolan James Patrick. What did I do?” Your stern tone made him finally turn around with a look on his face you couldn’t quite explain, which only made your nerves grow.

“You said something.” 

“Shit.”

“You really don't remember?” He walked till he was standing next to you. “We were here, I had already helped you change, you were in bed ...” he started to explain, hoping it would refresh your memories because he didn’t have it in him to actually tell you what you had said.

And just like that the memory from last night hit you.

~

“This sucks.” you said letting yourself fall on the bed, not even trying to position yourself correctly.

“Well you should’ve stopped after the third shot like I told you.” Nolan was too busy folding your clothes to see the way you rolled your eyes.

“Not that. This. You are being so nice with me and it sucks.”

“You lost me there princess.” he said confused, brows narrowing but with a playful smile still on his face, the way you rambled incongruently was too cute for him not to.

“Because I’m just going to fall harder for you and I shouldn’t because we’re friends Patty. I can’t be in love with my friend.” you let out matter-of-factly, clearly all products of the alcohol that was still running through your veins.

He could not believe what he was hearing. His heart stopped at your words, but he tried to convince himself he had heard it wrong, God knows the many times he dreamed of you saying those words.

“It sucks that I’m in love with you.” you added and there was no denying it, he heard it clear this time.

“Y/N …” he started to say as he turned around but words died in his mouth when he realized you were already asleep.

~

“Shit!” you let out and your hands instantly went to cover your face. You had screwed it big time. Sure you could blame it on the alcohol but Nolan knew you, he knew you wouldn’t just invent something like that. And even if it worked, your friendship would never be like it was before.

“Just forget I ever said that, okay? I was drunk and I didnt know what I was saying. Fuck. I'm the worst'' you started to ramble as you walked around the kitchen, unable to keep still because of the anxious feeling deep in your chest. It felt like your world was spinning out of control and all you could think about was all you had lost the moment alcohol got the best of you and you confessed your feelings.

All of a sudden Nolan was standing in front of you, placing his hands on your sides to stop your pacing. You couldn’t look him in the face, knowing the moment he saw you he’d realized how much you meant everything you said last night.

“Hey calm down” He started caressing your arms gently up and down in a reassuring manner.

“I'm so sorry.” you said, tears threatening to fall down your face any moment. 

“Well I'm not.” he replied with a humorous tone that threw you off. You shoot your head up at him with a confused expression that only intensified once you realized he was smiling sheepishly at you.

“I’m actually really glad that happened because now I don’t have to worry about how you may react when I tell you how I feel about you.”

“I think the alcohol killed all my brain cells because I don’t understand a thing you're saying.”

Nolan rolled his eyes at your comment but couldn’t hide the smile on this face. His hands went to cup your face, pulling you closer to him as he wiped away gently with his thumb a few tears that you hadn’t been able to keep in.

“What I’m trying to say is: I love you too.” he said looking into your eyes tenderly.

“I swear if TK comes out of nowhere holding a camera or something I’m murdering both of you-”

“I’m not joking! I love you Y/N. I have for the longest time and I’m a little embarrassed it took you drunkenly confessing how you feel for me to have the balls to say it.” Nolan’s cheeks turned red and you had to bite your lip to not make a comment about it. His eyes full of adoration never left yours, making you feel the all too familiar butterflies, but this time it didn’t feel wrong. This time you didn’t have to hide it or push it away. No, because this time you knew he felt the same.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly and all you could do was nod. He started to lean in, heart beating fast in his chest just like yours. 

“Wait.” you said, stopping him when he was less than an inch away from connecting your lips. He pulled away to look down at you confused, hands still resting against your cheeks. “I haven't washed my teeth.” He let out a chuckle.

“I couldn't care less.” he said, leaning down to finally kiss you.

It started sweet and gently, neither of you could believe it was happening, too scared any second you’d wake up and realize it was all a dream. That was until your hands met on the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair and bringing him closer, deepening the kiss. His hands left your face and moved down your back, pressing you against him as much as possible, clutching to you in any way possible. The kiss intensified with the second and you could not stop, you had been craving each other for so long it felt almost intoxicating to finally know what the other’s lips felt like.

-

thank you for reading, hope you liked it! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

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[jaskiersvalley]

I love your writing!! I love reading all of them, my favourite pieces are the ones with the wolf pack and Jaskier! Small request for the three brothers rough housing and having fun with each other and Vesemir with Jaskier are walking into the room and the brothers all scatter because when younger Vesemir use to get onto the boys and they are use to the ‘last person there has to deal with Vesemir’ and Jaskier is rolling on the ground at the sight of three buff Witcher’s scattering like kids

The façade of emotionless, stoic Witchers fell away piece by piece in Kaer Morhen and Jaskier was delighted to bear witness to it. He never could have believed Geralt was capable of not only smiling but also whining like a spoilt brat. But seeing the younger Witchers’ antics, it fill Jaskier with a bitter kind of joy. They probably never got the chance to be carefree, foolish boys, at least now they got the chance to make up for it. In all his observations and indulgent peeking, Jaskier found an unlikely accomplice; Vesemir. He had been a wonderful reassurance and guide in understanding the others.

“Just wait. It’s when they sleep more comfortably that things will start to pick up.”

Never had truer words been spoken. Jaskier was all too used to Geralt not sleeping but rather spending the night kneeling in a meditative state. The few times he slept, it was with his back pressed against a wall and curled into a tight, protective ball. It seemed to be something that all Witchers took to doing, having met a few along the Path, Jaskier had seen them all resting and it was always the same. Just watching them made him exhausted most of the time, what they did, Jaskier wouldn't call rest. That all changed in Kaer Morhen.

Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't an early morning rise for Witchers during winter. It was a time for rest, to take what comforts they could in a world that so cruelly discarded them like used toys. So, more often than not, Jaskier was the first to wake and get breakfast going. He liked to wander through halls and check in on all the Witchers, making sure they were sleeping soundly. Some mornings, Vesemir joined him, though usually he would go out to the coop to let the chickens out for the day and then milk a goat if they were planning on a treat like a hot chocolate.

The two of them took to waking the others up together if breakfast was something that was better while it was still fresh and warm. So Jaskier got to see as, ever so slowly, the others relaxed into their home. Perhaps the most noticeable one was Lambert. Over the course of the week he unfurled from a tight ball until he was sprawled on his back, limbs splayed in every direction, even his fingers were spread wide. The first time they saw him like that, Vesemir smiled.

"Even as a pup he tried to take up as much space as possible. Whether it was to see bigger or because he felt he didn't get much in his waking moments to claimed them in his sleeping ones, we'll never know."

Eskel was a little more subtle. His bed filled up with throws, pillows and anything soft, including clothes from anyone in the keep. If Jaskier stared hard enough, he was quite certain he could see the frills of his missing, softest chemise.

"You'll probably just want to send Lambert in most mornings. If we'd let him, Eskel would hibernate the day away."

Really, Jaskier couldn't blame him. Eskel was nothing more than a mop of dark hair under all the bedding. He wasn't even a lump, just straight up disappeared and melded into his bed. How he could breathe under all the weight was a wonder but he seemed happy enough.

Perhaps the least obvious but most difficult to deal with was Geralt. He was a cuddler and aggressively so. There was nothing Jaskier could do to get out of his vice-like grip in the morning. He couldn't even be mad at Vesemir when he stuck his head in and promptly chuckled.

"Guess you've replaced the pillows," he said. "If you want to get up, grab one of the big pillows and he'll hold onto that. Eventually."

Sure enough, Geralt snuggled into the pillow after a little while and Jaskier could make his escape. Thankfully, the others tended to be able to get themselves up at some point. There was no official training, no chore schedule. They were all adults, they all chipped in where needed and, somehow, everything was taken care of.

This freedom also led to some more unruly times. Namely, they seemed to love roughhousing. As Jaskier had observed before, they were like over excitable puppies who never got a chance to be young and silly. They were more than abundantly making up for it now. When they weren't sleeping, they were causing mischief somewhere. Inevitably two of them would partner up against the third, usually with very loud consequences.

Even better was their reaction when caught mid-shenanigans. Jaskier was pulled into Vesemir's secret and was permitted to join the fun.

"I just love how they scramble to pretend it wasn't them," Vesemir had admitted one morning. "They're idiots but they're my endearing idiots."

Right on cue there was an almighty crash from the library, followed by a yowl and raucous laughter. Immediately, Vesemir started towards the noise with loud, measured steps.

"Listen," he urged Jaskier.

There were definite sounds of a scuffle, grunts and yelps. It was only as Vesemir turned the door handle that a cry went up.

"Shit! Vesemir! Run!"

As the door opened, Jaskier gotto see three grown Witchers falling over each other in an attempt to...who even knew what. Maybe they were aiming to sit on the couches and look presentable, maybe they were trying to flee. Eskel had somehow managed to hop up onto an armchair and was in the process of pulling himself silently into the rafters.

"Just what is going on here then?" Vesemir asked. A smile was wisely hidden under his moustache.

"Nothing!" It was a chorus of fake innocence. When Vesemir fixed Eskel with a stare, he got a few pullups out of it.

"Just exercising."

"In the library." It wasn't even a question, Vesemir's voice was full of disbelief.

"What better place to exercise the body and the mind?" Lambert piped up, edging towards the door.

In front of Geralt was a coffee table, or rather, what was left of it. He was the unlucky one to be blamed this time.

"It wasn't me!" Geralt protested, hands up to show his innocence. "I found it like this." In the silence, Vesemir stared flatly at him. Looking around desperately, Geralt gulped. "It was Jaskier!"

Nobody moved for a moment at such a brazen lie. Jaskier was behind Vesemir, there was no way it could have possibly been him. However, Jaskier was the one to recover from the shock first. "Indeed, it was me. My apologies. I took a tumble while...dusting, yes, dusting. I was dusting the-" there was nothing in the vicinity of the table, "-carpet."

Jaskier stared Vesemir in the eye, everyone aware of how bad the lie was. In the end, Vesemir nodded.

"Very well. And because I raised three very polite and kind pups, they will help you tidy away the broken table. And they'll take over the dusting from you. Can't have you falling and breaking something again. What if it's your neck next time?"

Punishment handed out, Vesemir cast his three wayward idiots a final glare.

"Well, hop to it. Breakfast can wait until you're done."

[notdonesimpin]

Sorcery ~r.s.~

ceo!ryomen sukuna x gn!reader

warnings: sukuna in a suit??, fluff

synopsis: [request by @draconic-dumbass​ ] “two unlikely people bound together by what some call fate, but to them, it must be sorcery” OR the reader doesn’t take care of themselves and sukuna has to do it for them.

a/n:  For fic purposes, Sukuna has his own two armed body. I wanted a CEO!AU where curses don’t exist, okay? Sukuna’s just a man who looks great in a suit. The curse aspect isn’t really needed in the way it’s portrayed in the show so i don’t wanna think about it😣 don’t hate me.

The door opens as you peek your head in the hallway to see Sukuna roughly loosen his tie with a huff and unbutton the top of his shirt as he takes off his shoes. 

“Long day?” you ask.

“My assistant cried today if that tells you anything. They overbooked me, and didn’t realize it until this morning.”

Your eyes narrow, “What did you say to the poor thing? She didn’t cry for nothing.”

Sukuna throws his hands up defensively as he walks over to you with a teasing smile, “I didn’t say anything! Though, I wanted to say a lot. I think she got the message when I sent her home.” The last part came out in a mutter, but you heard it well.

You hit him in the chest, “This is why you can’t keep an assistant! You’re too aggressive. I liked that one, too.”

“Well, I had an amazing assistant for years, but they quit when their husband told them to focus on art. My days ran so smoothly, and I had a beautiful sight all hours of the day,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he continues, “Was I too aggressive with you?”

“You could barely say a sentence around me when we first met, Ryo. Don’t get cocky.”

Before he could say anything else, there was a knock on the door and you moved to answer it.

“It’s just Nao. They’re being my other model for today! I can’t model and draw myself, so I needed an amazing stand-in. How about you rest for a bit and I’ll do Nao’s solo poses and get you when I need you?” you suggested as you opened the door.

“It’s been a while. Good to see you, Y/N. Sukuna,” Nao says, giving Sukuna a wave and you a small hug.

“Nao, don’t fuck up while I’m not there,” Sukuna jokes, turning around to walk towards the bedroom.

“I’ve been doing this longer than you. I think I got it.”

“Don’t take those clothes off! The more wrinkles, the better!” you call after him.

~

You softly shake Sukuna. “Ryo, I need you to model for me now.”

He groans, opening his eyes to see you beaming at him. “It’s not fair, your face makes it hard to say no.”

“Then get up, so I can finish for today!” you urge.

He follows you to the living area with sleepiness still extremely apparent on his face. 

“No wonder you chose him to be your muse for the King of Curses. He’s like The Walking Dead right now,” Nao laughs, earning a glare from Sukuna as you drag him to the spot you want him.

“You still haven’t told me anything about your art show,” Sukuna reminds you. 

“Hands in pockets please…” you gesture to your own pockets when you make the statement and Sukuna lazily complies as you continue talking and telling him what to do. “My theme is Sorcery. Take a step but don't step… There! I wanted to do three bigger panels for my main showcase. They have the King of Curses- AKA you- and the ruler of blessings- aka Nao but Nao is just modeling so I can shade the pose right and put myself in it. Then the middle panel will be them together. Look at the ground. Now, only bring your eyes up the look at me… Perfect! Stay still. Basically it shows two unlikely people bound together by what some call fate, but to them, it must be sorcery.”

~

You yawn, waking up the sound of Sukuna roaming around the penthouse. You check your phone to see the time. 4:36 A.M.

You suddenly find yourself wide awake and decide to get up and work on your rough sketches. 

You go out of your shared room, rubbing your eyes as you adjust to the light and walk to the kitchen.

“Where the hell is my…” Sukuna’s muttering comes to a stop when he sees you sitting at the island, drinking a glass of water as you wait for the coffee pot to get ready.

“Good morning,” you softly say with a yawn.

“Why are you up? Did I wake you?” Sukuna asks, buttoning the cuffs of the shirt and walking over to you.

“I need to work on the rough sketches anyways since my canvases come in today. I’m so behind,” you groan, “What are you looking for?”

“My passport. I swear I grabbed it from home before I came here.”

He watches you tie his tie for him as he tries to recall where it might be.

“It’s definitely at home on the kitchen counter. I saw it before I left. I meant to grab it for you. Sorry, Ryo.”

He tosses his head back in frustration, “Why is this penthouse so inconveniently located. I have to go in the opposite direction of the office and the airport to go home and get it.”

“You’re the one that said my apartment was too small to be my studio.”

“I know.”

“And that I should separate home from work.”

“I know.” He squeezes your cheeks to stop you from talking. “I don’t regret buying this penthouse for your work. You get an ocean view and you have an entire space to do your work. I’d buy you the entire building if you needed it.”

He lets go of your face and you say, “Okay, Mr. CEO. All you had to say was that you love me.”

He chuckles and pours two cups of coffee, handing you one of them. “This business trip is pretty short, so I should be back around afternoon or tomorrow night at the latest.” He checks his watch, “I should go, so I don’t be late with my detour.” 

He grabs his blazer off of the back of the chair, sliding it on as he walks towards the door with you right behind him. He slips his shoes on and turns to you, giving you a soft kiss.

“Be safe. I love you.” you say.

“I love you. Don’t overwork yourself while I’m gone.”

As soon as the door closed, you muttered: Sorry, Ryo. That’s exactly what I’m about to do.

~ 

A few hours later, you get a call from Sukuna and immediately answer.

“How’s the new assistant, Ryo?” you immediately ask.

He paused, glancing at the assistant beside him. “So this was your doing. I can’t say that I’m surprised. This one seems a lot more competent.”

“Don’t run him off. He knows how to run businesses well since he grew up with his father.”

“I got it. Mx. CEO,” he taunts, “How long have you been working?”

You glance at the time on your phone. 10:32A.M.

“Technically five hours but only been diligent for the past four hours. I finished my sketch for the King of Curses panel about an hour ago. So, I’ve just started drawing it on the canvas.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that it’s time to take a break and eat something,” He suggests, but you both know that it was a command. 

“I’m not going to pass out on you again, okay? I can take care of myself.”

“As you’ve proven on multiple occasions, you can’t. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you. Make good decisions!” You hang up and get back to work.

You didn’t know how much time had passed or how long you’d been actively moving around and working until your regular Wednesday at 11:30 alarm went off. 

Wait… Wednesday??? You’d only been up for a couple hours. How has an entire day passed without you even realizing it?

At the same time, you received a text from Sukuna: I have to stop by the office before heading to you, so I’ll take you wherever you’d like around one. 

“Shit!” you exclaim, typing back a quick response before rushing around the penthouse to clean and change your clothes.

Sukuna couldn’t know that you haven’t slept in the past 31 hours. 

By the time you cleaned up and got dressed, Sukuna was already at the penthouse, leaning against the kitchen counter and holding a glass of bourbon in his hands.

“Let me see your hands,” he requests.

You stick out your hands, trying to calm them down because both of you knew that you get really bad tremors when you haven’t slept in a while.

“I didn’t think you’d be back so early,” you softly spoke.

“Darling, I texted you. I guess it makes sense that you don’t remember since you responded with a jumble of letters,” he sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets as he shakes his head, “What am I going to do with you?”

“I just got really focused. I’m so close to finishing the King of Curses panel. I started the Ruler of Blessings panel as well… I gotta keep the ball rolling while it’s hot,” you explained.

“That isn’t healthy. How have you been painting? With the way your hands are shaking, you shouldn’t even be able to hold a paintbrush straight.”

“I was focused! And before you say it, I’m not tired, so I’ll just get back to work.”

He looks at you in amusement as you walk away. “Still as stubborn as ever.”

“I’ll stop after I finish the curse panel, okay?”

Before you could even get out of the kitchen, Sukuna had picked you up by your waist and started walking away.

“Ryomen Sukuna! Put me down!” you exclaim, “I told you, my feet stay on the ground!”

He laughs and continues walking, “I told you that if I want to pick you up, I will. If you think you’re heavy, then you’re wrong. You’re like a feather compared to what I lift at the gym, okay?”

You fall silent, letting him carry you all the way to the bathroom. He sits you on the counter and starts running the water for a bath. As you wait for the bath to fill up, he stands in between your legs, bringing his hands up to your face and lightly grazing underneath your eyes.

“They’re puffy…” he looks at you with a hint of sadness, “I understand that the art show is very important to you, but this is the third time in the past few months that I’ve had to physically stop you from overworking yourself. If you don’t take care of yourself, your art will suffer, too.”

“I know. There’s just a lot of big names coming this time. I really want it to be good.”

“It will be because you’re an outstanding artist,” he reassures.

You give him a small thank you as he turns to stop the water and you shed your clothes, getting in and closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth.

“You see how nice hot water feels?” You could hear the teasing in his voice.

“Yeah, yeah. Self-care or whatever.” 

Sukuna begins to wash your body for you, humming a soft tune and lulling you to sleep.  He finishes washing you up and takes you to bed, putting one of his shirts on you and crawling in beside you, letting you wrap yourself around him to steal his warmth.

He softly smiles to himself and gives you a soft kiss on the top of your head as he whispers, “Sweet dreams.”

[thatgirlwritingficsatnight]

Gift exchange

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve forgotten about your Christmas company party. Even worse you forgot to get a gift for the “not so secret Santa” - your company’s tradition. Wanna top it? Make it even worse? No problem. The person you were supposed to get a gift for? Your crush. Defsoul - the most talented, kindest and hottest person alive. What are you going to do now?

pairing: Lim Jaebeom (Defsoul) x reader

genre: smut, fluff, Jaebeom is a producer, Y/N is a manager

warnings: smut: daddy kink, light choking, ass play; foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 4989

A/N: TFW you try to write a GOT7 reaction, and you end up with one-shot. I know I’m kinda late with whole christmas theme but i wrote it last night and figured out I could post it anyway.

***

You barely got to shut your eyes before your alarm tore you up from your dreams. It was nine in the morning, and you went to sleep at six AM because of your work. You groaned as you shuffled in bed cursing your job, three hours of sleep was not enough for anyone. Being manager of K-pop girl group was hard enough but being the manager in December when there was award show after award show and festivals - that was a nightmare. To other people December was equal to Christmas, gifts, parties, New Year's Eve but to you, it was synonymous with constant state of tiredness, your biggest wish right now was to spent Christmas break alone, just you and your bed. You sighed as you dragged yourself to shower. Girls had only slept for 5 hours, and you felt bad for them — not only were they invited to each award show that existed they also just have had a comeback. You could see how exhausted they were and yet your superiors still pushed for them to go to some stupid TV show on Christmas Eve. You got yourself ready and went to pick them up and get them to set.

The recording went smoothly, and you were already daydreaming about coming home early and passing out on your bed. It was six PM already, but you still had to drive girls home and step into the office for a bit. You sighed you'd be home eight PM at best - well it was still better than coming home at two or three AM. You were about to go and thank everyone for their hard work when your phone vibrated. It was your best friend and coworker.

"Hey Inha. What's up?"

"I wanted to check if you remember about the company party tonight."

You hit your forehead and groaned.

"OMG! You forgot! Have you bought a gift at least?"

"No..." you whined. You wanted to die. You had so much work lately that you've absolutely forgotten about that party — it was for staff only and each year you'd drew lots to pick the person you were supposed to give a gift to. It wasn't even secret Santa your boss simply came to conclusion that gift exchange would help out with forming friendships...

"Girl... Do you at least remember who you drew?"

Of course you remembered. How could you not. This was your lucky year, you got Defsoul the hottest, kindest and most talented person working for your label. You had a small crush on him since that day he gave up his coffee for you. You were falling asleep standing while girls were recording their vocals, and he chuckled at you before telling you to sit by him and drink some coffee. It probably meant nothing to him but that was one of the most stressful weeks in your life, and you weren't sleeping at all during that time — ITZY were about to make a debut, and you couldn't stop worrying over it. You remember how touched you were by this simple gesture, after all no one ever gave you coffee, usually you were the one getting it for other people. His looks certainly didn't help with your hopeless crush. He was H O T and not even simply hot, more like "I-look-like-an-idol" hot. He had a black mullet, piercing under his eye, he also had his nose and ears pierced to make matters worse for you he also had most hypnotizing almost feline-like eyes. Honestly you wondered why didn't he become an idol with a face and talent like that. After that one time, he would buy you a coffee whenever he had seen you and you two became somewhat close - you'd swing over his studio when girls had to train and talk about everything and nothing. He told you about his cats, his favorite restaurants, his passion for taking pictures and well you mostly told him about your job since you basically didn't have any private life - it really felt pathetic. He even took your photo once - telling you that the picture would help him later when he would be looking for inspiration (it is a mystery till this day how you haven't fainted that evening). One day you were waiting for girls to finish up their dance practice and fell asleep on one of the benches — it was difficult day for you since you haven't slept for twenty hours already (you had to fight off some crazy sasaengs and didn’t sleep whole night keeping an eye on their dorm — some would say you were overdoing it, but to you members of ITZY were like your little sisters). You woke up in his studio on his couch. He carried you there while you were asleep and tucked you in, covering you with his jacket. You were extremely embarrassed, apologetic and thankful at the same time. He chuckled at you before saying that it was okay and forced you to promise that you'd oversleep to work the very next day. Inha claimed he had a crush on you since he never treated her with the same kindness or anyone really. But you knew better, he was a good colleague. A good, extraordinarily attractive colleague you wanted to kiss and lick and...

"Hello? Earth to Y/N??" your friend snapped you from your thoughts.

"I have to go Inha! Thank you for reminding me! Love you!" You checked the time, there was no way you'd manage to drive girls back, buy a gift, get ready for a party and do all that without being late. You sighed you will have to improvise. You drove off girls and came back rushing straight to your apartment. The party started at 10 PM and you had to shower, somehow fix your sleep-deprived face and figure out how you're going to apologize to Def... You were home a few minutes before 8 rushing into your bedroom - at least you knew what you were going to wear. That would be the most expensive, or more like the only expensive piece of clothing you had — a birthday gift from girls. It was an oversized tuxedo jacket from Alexander Wang and you haven't worn it yet. You tried it on, it had quite deep cleavage, and exposed a lot of your legs, but you figured it would be ok for tonight. You smoothed out black velvety material before stepping out of it. You still had to shower and do your makeup. An hour later you were looking at yourself in the mirror — the mask Inha got you really helped out with bags under your eyes. You did good with makeup as well: it was soft brownish smoky eye, orange toned lipstick and some shimmers here and there — you actually looked healthy and well rested (a true Christmas miracle really). You looked even better after getting in your outfit — Ryunjin was right, the tuxedo like dress fitted your vibe. You even wore some black heels which didn't often happen since you always chose comfort over looks when at work.  

Fortunately you got to the party on time even though you couldn't catch a taxi for twenty minutes or so. People inside were already mingling and drinking, and you decided to grab something to drink before looking for Def. You located a small table with champagne in the corner of the room. You downed two glasses as quick as you got there, and were already grabbing a third one when a voice spoke up startling you so much you jumped a little.

"Rough day?" Defsoul was standing next to you, whiskey in his hand, smirking at you. You immediately blushed and gawked at him. He was so handsome it was simply unfair. This man clearly woke up today and chose violence. He was wearing a silky black shirt — and it was quite unbuttoned, so you had a chance of seeing his broad chest (you were currently having a heart attack), and slacks he also styled his hair so that his forehead was exposed with one defiant streak of hair falling onto his brow bone. You wanted to groan. You fucked up — this could've been your chance to get him to like you more...

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he was genuinely concerned, and here you were, basically salivating and staring at him like a starved, nasty man. That was so embarrassing. You cleared your throat and looked away.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just really tired today..." He smiled at you warmly, and you wanted to punch yourself for not getting him something, anything.

"That's great!" You gave him a confused look, and he bit his lip nervously while scratching the back of his head. He was so cute you could kiss him. Well to be fair you felt like you could kiss him any time. Why...why did you have to forget that bloody gift...

"I mean it's not great that you're tired... It's just… ah, shit I suck at this. Here." He handed you a plastic card, and you read it absolutely puzzled. Lifetime pass for coffee with Jaebeom — it also had a cute chibi character that looked just like Def, except it had some cat ears.

"Now you can get coffee whenever you want. I mean I know you can have it whenever you want anyway, I just thought that maybe you'd like someone to get it with... I mean get it for you… It's ok if you don't like it really, oh by the way I'm Jaebeom, I don't know if I already told you my real name or not…" he was rambling, and you were screaming inside your head. That was so cute. So kind. You wanted to hug him and kiss him so badly. "Ah, shit. I really do suck at this." he said more to himself than to you. You finally looked at him and grinned.

"I love it." you said and his eyes turned into big orbs before light pink colored his cheeks.

"You do?"

"I do. It's a perfect gift." you smiled, your heart swelled with happiness. You could technically go on a date with him whenever you felt like with this handy piece of plastic. That is if he wouldn't start to hate you in the next few minutes for forgetting his present.

"I'm glad." he grinned and it took your breath away. How come he was so perfect? You got even more nervous looking at the gift from him.

"Ah... I was your not so secret Santa as well…" you started.

"Really? So what did you get me?" he was genuinely interested, and you wanted to go back in time and kill yourself for forgetting about this party. You looked up. His eyes were gleaming with curiosity — you were fucked.

"It's me! I'm your gift!" you joked and looked down to cover your nervousness. You were about to say that it was just a stupid joke and apologize before he spoke up.

"I love it." his voice was deeper than normally, and you looked up shocked by it. He was checking you out, his hungry eyes traveling up and down. You've never seen him like that. You could feel warmth spreading on your cheeks under his intense stare, a tight knot forming somewhere near your core in excitement.

"Y-you do?" your voice faltered, and he chuckled while moving closer to you. He smelled musky with a hint of citrus. Your legs were about to collapse under you.

"I do." he hummed he was so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His hand brushed against yours as he bent down to reach your ear. You were sure your skin was burning where he touched you. "So, tell me Y/N, when can I unwrap you?" his tone was dark and dangerous and when he straightened up you've seen this gleam in his eyes as he smirked. Your legs felt like made from putty and you'd collapse if his hand weren't already wrapped around your waist. You couldn't believe it was happening. Your heart was beating so hard it was about to spring off your chest — you were wondering if he could hear it. You certainly could even though blood ringed in your ears. You felt your throat going dry and your panties getting moist.

"Def…" you started weakly. Shocked by your own voice — it sounded so needy.

"Call me Jaebeom.." he purred. "Would you like to go to my place? I don't think I can wait any longer to enjoy my gift…" You quavered from excitement, his voice was laced with a promise of sleepless night.

"Yes, let's go." you said and he smiled at you. You were sure you lost any oxygen you still had in your lungs at that moment. His hand left your waist, and you wanted to catch it and wrap yourself with it again. Instead, he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with his, smiling at you sweetly before he led you outside. You couldn't focus on anything else, but his fingers wrapped around yours. His hand was warm, and he held you firmly, his skin soft and delicate. You managed to quickly catch a taxi and through whole drive Jaebeom's hand lazily travelled up and down your thigh. His gentle fingers sending sparks to your core every time he brushed the inside of your leg. You glanced at him, eyes filled with desire — he shivered, and it made you feel a different kind of excitement — you didn't know that you had this kind of effect on him. You got out of the taxi and his hand was instantly on yours, he was almost dragging you skipping every other step as he rushed upstairs to his apartment. He opened the door and let you in. Immediately three cats came in and brushed against your legs. You smiled softly.

"They like you.." Jaebeom murmured against your neck while taking off your coat for you, you gasped at the feeling, and he released low chuckle before he started planting soft kisses against your neck — each time his lips touched your skin your muscles clenched with anticipation. You couldn't wait any longer. You turned around and looked at him, his eyes were glued to your lips and excitement bubbled somewhere below your stomach.

"I waited so long for this..." he started but never got to finish as your lips were on his in a second. Even his lips felt like cotton, and you sighed against him when he kissed you back. He was clearly enjoying slow kisses. You grew impatient once again and licked his lower lip, he gave you access you asked for, and your tongue brushed against his hungrily. You could already feel how wet you were, arousal making your panties stick to you painfully. Jaebeom's hand travelled around your back dropping dangerously low now and then but never grabbing you — you really wanted him to hold you and take you roughly. Once again you grew impatient this night. You took his lower lip in between your teeth, you bit it hard and moaned. That seemed to make him lose his cool, he let out a growl that travelled straight to your core.

"Bad girl..." he said before he turned you around and pushed you against the wall so that your back was facing him. His tongue already on your earlobe, you sighed and shivered when he licked it and let out breaths against wet, sensitive skin. "I wanted to take it slowly, but you're so eager, so impatient…" he was purring into your ear, and you were aching down there more and more with each syllable.

"Jaebeom..." you moaned as you pressed your ass against him. He sucked some breath in when you pushed down against his hard length, his body working on its own accord, one hand already on your hips pressing you harder when the other one cupped your breast. This is not how he envisioned tonight, he thought that he'd at best confess his feelings not have you here crumbling in his hands while moaning his name. Your hips bucked against his by itself as soon as you felt how hard he was. His hand grabbed your clothed breast, and you regretted wearing anything. You wanted to feel him against you naked skin not through layers of clothing.

"Jaebeom-ah..." you moaned his name again, and he rewarded you with sucking on your neck — it was painful yet pleasant, and you almost forgot what you wanted to say before he licked the fresh mark and kissed it. "Didn't you say you wanted to unwrap me?" You said in weak voice still affected by his mouth on your neck. He laughed against your skin, and you thought that's how paradise would sound like.

"You really are impatient... do you want me to fuck you so bad?" he asked rubbing into you, his dick almost in pain from the friction.

"Yes...please..." you panted out, and he let out some animalistic sound upon hearing how needy you were. He made you face him and unbuttoned your tuxedo-like-dress before he tossed it somewhere behind him. You shivered under his stare. He pulled you into him and his hands immediately travelled to your ass, grabbing it and lifting you up without effort. He began kissing your jaw, neck, collarbones, and you tilted your head, so he could have better access. He carried you to his bedroom and laid you down carefully on the mattress before he took a step back. His sheets smelled just like him, and you sighed in pleasure, sinking deeply into his fragrance. He bit his lip seeing you in his bed, wearing nothing but lacy underwear. However, you didn't want just lay and wait, you got up and reached out to his own shirt undoing the buttons hastily, but he didn't let you, he was in control. He held your hands and pushed you back on bed. You bounced and your hair created a sort of crown, spreading around your face — it emphasized your features even more, and Jaebeom felt as if he was making love to some kind of goddess. Your lips, eyes, hair, body everything was perfect. He wanted to taste you already.

"You need to ask me nicely." He smirked at you and you pouted a bit before a mischievous gleam appeared in your eyes. You let one of the straps fall from your shoulder and gave him an innocent look before taking off the other one as well. Just one move and Jaebeom would see your torso naked. He bit his lip unintentionally, when you pushed your breast closer while also moaning.

"Pleeeaaase... undress already and fuck me... daddy." He groaned - you'd be the end of him. He quickly tore any clothes that were on him leaving only his boxers on, and you stared him down hungrily. Saying he was beautiful was and understatement. He was perfect. His skin was light and smooth, it gleamed in the moonlight that illuminated the room through a small window located right above the headboard. It was still dim, but you could clearly see the outline of muscles on his stomach, and a tempting v line, waiting for you to be licked on his abdomen.

"Take off your bra." he ordered and you obediently followed. His eyes devoured your glistening breasts, two darker beads already hard and inviting him in. He licked his thumb and brushed it against your nipple watching intently for your reaction. You didn't disappoint him as you arched your back hungry for his touch. He took another one into his mouth, his tongue making circles around it for what felt like forever. The sound of his wet licks and your quickened breath feeling the silence of the room. You squeezed your legs looking for any kind of release, it didn't help much. Your core was aching and since you could only wait for him to bring you pleasure you closed your eyes and focused only on the sole path of his tongue. It was almost like a torture and Jaebeom seemed to enjoy it greatly, lazy licks, circles around your nipples, blowing cold air on them to hear your whines. And so when he finally sucked on your swollen nipple you moaned his name so loudly his neighbors could hear you. His dick twitched in his boxers. He couldn't wait for much long either, you were the most beautiful person he ever saw, and you were squirming under him, waiting for him to fuck you. He was honestly shocked he didn't take you against that wall in his hall when you pushed your ass against him. He smirked at you, he haven’t even fucked you yet and you were already having this kind of expression. His lips travelled from your breast lower and lower before his face hovered above your panties, hot breath on your wet, clothed pussy sending you almost over the edge. You looked down at him, his eyes were full of lust. He was so beautiful you felt like it was just a dream, not reality. When he pressed his nose against your wet folds you moaned again. He inhaled it a few times as if it was the most ravishing smell in the world.

"You smell so good I might go crazy." He actually was going crazy as his cock let out a bit of pre-cum only upon him smelling your pussy.

"Daddy... please..." you pleaded looking him in the eyes, he couldn't take it any longer. In one swift move he tore the panties off you, they were soaked, and he sniffed them one last time before throwing them out.  He took off his own underwear, and knelt between your legs his cock in his hand already.

"You're so wet for me. Such a good girl, I'm going to fuck you so good." he purred out, and you could go off his words only. He put on condom quickly and teased your entrance before sliding into you slowly. He was watching your face intently as he didn't want to cause you pain.

"Just don't move for a second, you're so big I need to get used to the stretch." It was painful a and pleasant at the same time - the way he filled you up. He didn't buck his hips as you asked, instead he kissed your lips, your jaw, neck, and you kissed him back with passion. Soon he started rocking into you and you moaned into his mouth.

"Harder." you managed to say between the panting and kissing. He straightened up and increased the tempo, sweat building on his forehead.

"Harder..." you said and his hand went to your throat while he almost crushed into you. He choked you lightly, and you felt the orgasm building already.

"Daddy... harder..."

"You dirty girl. On all fours." You obediently followed his order and soon he was fucking you doggy style, his hand spanking you lightly. "You like that? You like when daddy takes you hard?" His voice was so low you shivered under him.

"Yes, daddy." you moaned out when his huge dick filled you with each thrust.

"You're so dirty and good to your daddy. I will reward you and play with your other hole." Before you could say anything he spat on your ass and his finger danced around the other entrance. Just that was enough for you to see white. Your toes curled and your head went back, you screamed his name like it was the only thing keeping you alive, and you could feel how he twitched inside you when you clenched around him in orgasm spasm.

"Y/N, ah... I'm cumming, I'm…" he said through gritted teeth while pounding into you. You both reached your highs and fell onto the bed. He discarded the condom and started kissing your back lazily.

"Do you want to shower together?" he asked.

"Yes, but I don't think I have enough energy to go for another round…" you said while turning his way. He was looking at you lovingly, his expression completely fucked out. He was beautiful, the most handsome you've ever seen him actually. You sighed when his fingers brushed off hair from your face in sweet gesture.

"That's ok, I'll just shower you and we can go to sleep." You nodded, and he took your hand and guided you to his bathroom. He switched on the shower and pulled you under the water when it was warm already. He was so delicate with you, soaping your body, shampooing your head. You smiled at him warmly, and he chuckled.

"You're really cute." he said with a smile after making and weird shapes out of your shampooed hair.

"Stop it, I'll blush." you said while getting under the water, he was quickly spooning you, kissing your back almost with devotion.

"Good, you're even cuter when you blush."

You both towelled yourself dry and Jaebeom even brushed your hair for you before pulling you back to bed. You cuddled your face into his chest and he closed his arms around you. You didn't know if it was one-night stand only, but you'd worry about your possibly broken heart in the morning since his scent was already inviting you to the dreamworld.

You woke up to some rumbling. You opened your eyes and shot up, fear washing over you — that wasn't your bedroom. Memories of last night came next, and you fell back to the sheets squealing quietly into his pillow. That's when the realization hit you. What if it was just one-night stand, and you were rolling around his bed happily in love like an idiot? You sighed but before you could do anything, the man in question came to the bedroom smiling at you warmly.

"You finally woke up sleepyhead." He sat next to you and bend down to kiss your cheek. You looked down. "What's wrong? Have I done something?" He looked concerned.

"I.. no." You said sitting up, and he raised his brow on you. Ugh, he was looking great wearing a plain gray hoodie. You sighed.

"Was that one just for one night? If it was a one-night stand tell me now before I do something stupid."

"One-night stand?" He looked at you offended. "One-night stand?! Do you even know for how long I've been crushing on you? It was few years of my desperate attempts to ask you out, buying you coffee, looking for you constantly. Hell, I even made Yugyeom exchange the stupid lottery draw with me, so that I could give you that card. I actually thought that would helped me out with asking you out. One-night stand?! Jesus, Y/N, he made me basically his slave for a day, and you're asking me if it's one-night stand?" He was angry, and you looked at him shocked, you have never seen him like that. "Do you want this to be one-night stand?!" he raised his voice again.

"No!" you answered him immediately.

"No?! Great, then you can... wait you said no?" He cleared his throat, and you could actually see him smiling like an idiot before he cleared it again. "Well… good because I made us lunch already, and it would go to waste otherwise." He tried to act cool. You giggled at him and pushed him down before sitting on top of him.

"You're cute." You said and he blushed looking away.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You are the cutest actually." He groaned in response getting even more red, and you giggled once again. It was the first time you got him to blush so much, usually it was just light pink appearing on the apples of his cheeks. You kissed his face leaving pecks all over it, he chuckled before speaking again.

"I don't want this to be one-night stand. I like you I was actually planning on asking you out yesterday."

"You were?"

"I was. So would like to go out with me?" he wiggled his brows at you and you grinned before nodding.

"Mmm. I'd love to." you answered and he pulled you for a lazy kiss.

"Come, I prepared some food for you. It's hardly festive, but it's something"

"I'm sure it's great. I just need to put something on myself first."

"You can have my hoodie and sweats." he said while looking through his cabinet. "Here." He handed you clothes and blushed once again mumbling that he will wait for you in the kitchen. He got embarrassed — that was just too cute.

You slipped in his clothes, his smell wrapping around you. You got out of the bedroom only to be greeted by three cats purring and brushing against your legs. You smiled and petted them, scratching them on their chins. Jaebeom was just standing and staring at you, still not believing his luck. You were wearing his blouse, it was hanging on you like a dress basically and his heart ached at this picture. You looked up and grinned.

"They like me!"

"I'm pretty sure they're going to like you more than they like me." He chuckled. "Now come, let's eat."

You nodded and entered his kitchen, there was kimchi jjigae and rice prepared for both of you. You smiled and sat down already salivating because of the delicious smell.

"Merry Christmas Y/N." He said looking up from his dish.

"Merry Christmas Jaebeom." You smiled at him lovingly. "So what did Yugyeom made you do?"

"Don't even ask." He said and you giggled. Let's just say you didn't get to spend the Christmas break alone in the bed like you wished.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone's Symphony | Day Two | Persephone

Hey my lovelies a month later here is the next installment! When I was planning my chapters out a month or so ago I wrote at the top of this one "Sunny day, go outside, FLUFFY" (exact words)-- I regret to inform you that this is almost pure angst LOL. I deviated from that but the next chapter should bring some much needed fluff. Thank you all for your patience and support-- it means the entire world to me. All my love, until next time <3

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, anxiety, PTSD, nightmares, angst things, self-hatred, terrible Greek myth references, this ones big angst but necessary for the plot line

Word count: 5.2k

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Master List

He likes his coffee iced.

Black and iced.

She watches as Bucky lifts the glass— the one filled with more cubes than coffee— to his lips, wincing when his throat bobs. It’s seven in the morning. Sure, neither of them slept that much last night— something which makes her gut twist, knowing quite well that it’s her fault— but still. It can’t be as refreshing as he’s making it look. Iced coffee is meant for afternoons. And meant with as much sugar and cream as she can get her hands on. Never just straight dark roast. She clutches her own mug closer to her, taking a sip of the warm, sweet liquid. This is how it should be.

“Got something you wanna’ say, doll?” He takes another sip and she scrunches her nose, both trying to keep her eyes off his pink lips and trying not to force her own mug into his hands— she would be doing him a favor.

If the slight smirk— the millimeter tick in his cheek— is anything to go by then she would say he knows how hard this is for her. A sadist. His lips pull up a touch higher, as though reading her mind. A handsome sadist. Her face flushes under his gaze and she drags in a lungful of air through her nose, holding it for a moment— one, two, three moments— before blowing it back out her mouth.

She lets the hint of coffee leftover on her tongue carve a syrupy smile across her face. “Nope— nothing at all.”

He nods once, blue eyes creasing at the corners as he stares at her from over the glass. He knows. He lazily swirls the coffee, the ice cubes clinking together. Mocking her. She clenches her jaw, fighting the growing urge to snatch the bitter drink and dump it down the sink. The liquid is so dark that she almost gags, picturing what it must taste like. Bitter. Tangy. Vile. It’s the same color as his hair— brown but practically black. Unlike his hair, though, she doesn’t want to be anywhere near that coffee. He needs something warm. Something soft.

Something like her—

“You sure?” Bucky’s voice is mocking too but lacking the ice— the bitterness— his mocking is sweet.

He’s tilting his head now, his black and gold hand settling on the table between them, glinting in the dregs of sunlight starting to break past the curtain. To think yesterday she had been afraid to meet his gaze— afraid of her own feet creaking against the hardwood and of messing up his lunch. Now look at her, less than twenty-four hours later and she can’t look away from him. She doesn’t want to look away. Forget about being afraid to burn the grilled-cheese— she’s about to spartan kick the glass off the table if he takes one more sip.

“Oh I’m sure.” She simpers, fingers curling a touch tighter around her mug. “Why, is there something you would like to say, Bucky?”

His eyes sparkle, not backing down from the challenge. “Nothing at all.”

In that moment— in the one, two, three moments that it takes for his head to slope to the other side, still tilted but somehow more taunting— it’s almost impossible to hold in the scowl threatening her lips. “I see.”

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting but it certainly isn’t Bucky’s laugh— loud and raspy and rushing over her in a tidal wave of energy stronger than the caffeine on her tongue— as he throws his head back. He had laughed yesterday but it wasn’t like this. It wasn’t so pure. It’s all she can do to hold her breath as his eyes flutter closed, creasing at the corners, and wonder if she looks that wonderful when she laughs too. If she, too, looks like an angel falling from the sun, burning in the inkling of light the curtain allows. Does the kitchen haze halo around her hair as well? Does it make it look like her skin is gold— the same way he looks like a statue, sculpted and frozen from precious metal?

There’s just no way.

“You look like you wanna’ leap across the table—” his hand presses against his mouth, flesh fingers closed in a fist as his shoulders shake— “why— why do you look so determined? C’mon, fill me in please— I’m—” he has to pause, laugh turning silent from the force of it— “I’m dyin’ here.”

Her own laughs come in short huffs, airy and just barely making a noise. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep finally getting her— that would explain both of their laughs actually. She hasn’t felt giddy in months. It kind of hurts, how hard her stomach contracts upon seeing his eyes blinking at her, bright blue and glassy, swallowing his chuckles the same way she gasps for the breath needed to answer him.

She finally caves, finger pointing to the glass in front of him and a smile so wide on her lips that her cheeks hurt. “There’s just no way that tastes good.”

He glances down, looking at his offensive beverage, before looking back up, his eyes brighter than she’s yet to have seen them. “That’s what this is about? My coffee? I knew it.”

Nodding, she lifts her own mug, tilting it just enough for him to see the contents. “This is coffee— not that sludge. That cold sludge. Is there any sugar in there? Like, even one grain?”

“Quit bein’ dramatic—” he snorts— apparently the big bad bodyguard snorts— and it’s cuter than she would like to admit— “just because I don’t load my coffee with additives. S’there even any coffee in yours, doll? It looks more like milk if you ask me.”

Her face flushes hot and she doesn’t know if it’s from the nickname or the fact that he just called her out— so what if she likes sugar and cream?

She meets his smug gaze with her own, narrowed-eyed glance. “Sugar and cream aren’t additives, Bucky— they’re good.”

“But not good for you.” He counters, dark brows quirking.

She scoffs— scoff, swoon, same thing— “Not everything has to be a superfood to be healthy— at least mine isn’t iced.”

Bucky’s eyes glint upon hearing that, picking up his glass and swirling the ice cubes once more before taking a long sip. His eyes never leave hers as he peers over the rim, taking his sweet time to down the liquid. Does he know that even when he’s being arrogant he looks like an angel? Her hand curls tighter around her mug, testing the durability of the ceramic as his throat bobs again. Her palm stings in warning— a little hey maybe you should let go. She doesn’t— somehow shattering the mug seems like a better option than breaking her composure.

Her grip loosens a fraction when he finally sets his glass back down. “What’s wrong with iced coffee— isn’t it a California staple?”

“Not before eight it isn’t.”

“It’s refreshing.” He deadpans.

“It’s cold.” She deadpans back, fingers tapping against her mug— maybe she can hypnotize him into not wanting to finish it. “Californians don’t like the cold. At least not in So-Cal we don’t. Maybe Brooklyn’s different.”

Eyeing his drink, she contemplates the schematics of the mission at hand. It truly doesn’t seem that difficult. She could just reach over and grab it and he wouldn’t even see it coming. He’s already distracted, right? She stops tapping, casually— well, as casual as one can be when actually trying to be— laying her palm on the table. His eyes, thankfully, stay glued to her own, lips parting with a huff.

“New Yorkers just want coffee, no time for all that fancy stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” She drawls. “What does fancy stuff entail exactly?”

She can only hope that her voice sounds interested— her eyes are still locked on his but her attention is entirely elsewhere. She needs to keep him talking— to keep him distracted. His huffs as she crawls her fingers closer, drawing his focus to her shrug, making sure he never glances away. This is too easy.

“All that cappuccino, frappuccino, whatever the hell it’s called nowadays—”

This time she huffs. “Is that what you think we drink?”

She inches her palm even closer to his glass—

“I know it’s what you drin— Hey!” Bucky laughs again, tugging his glass towards him with a cheshire grin— okay so maybe he would see it coming— “keep your hands where I can see them—”

Whatever he says next falls deaf into the space between them, cut off by the sudden rushing of blood in her ears. It’s like his words hit a barrier between them, one hastily constructed of thin glass and terror. Every thought of coffee rushes out of her mind in an instant. She blinks, mouth going dry, heart stopping. A switch flips inside her— keep your hands where I can see them or what?

What did he hear?

He must have heard something.

Why can’t she hear him?

She can see him— see the way his lips form around his sentence, his smile starting to wane but still slightly holding in place— but she can’t hear him. She can see the way his laugh drops but she can’t hear the explosion of it hitting the table. She can only perceive the collision in the fall of his lips, echoed in the creasing of his brows. Her hands catch in mid air, hitting the glass as well— she can’t save it. Him. She’s trying— instinctively reaching for him— but she can’t pull the smile back up or smooth the lines on his forehead. She’s helpless— useless.

He knows— he must know.

What did she say last night?

Why can’t she break the glass?

The wall is too much.

She tries to tell Bucky— I’m so scared I can’t breathe— but when her gaze snaps to his none of the blue that she’s been memorizing for the last day is visible. There’s only blackness— blackness in the now dimming light of the bright room and blackness in his eyes, even the whites, and blackness in her own vision as she, too, drops. One minute she’s there, sitting at the table, watching the confusion pool into his features that were only seconds ago coated in mirth, and then next she’s back. She’s dreaming. She’s in the house that haunts her every night.

She’s not asleep but—

She’s in the coat closet of her parent’s home. It still smells the way she remembers— like sunscreen and lemon Pine-Sol. Her mother uses it to keep the wooden fixtures around the house oiled. Apparently that’s a thing. She’s never really understood why but at least it smells nice— like sunshine and laughter and her mother. Like her home. She doesn’t understand but, regardless, any other time she would be closing her eyes and drawing in as much of the citrus as possible, too content to be confused.

Not today, though— she’s too excited to do any such thing today.

She hasn’t told anyone that she’s coming home for the weekend; she wants it to be a surprise. Her brother always surprises her. His birthday is just around the corner and for once she wants to be the one to do the surprising. Hell, she even bought a cake with an inscription— the very same cake that’s nestled next to her feet as she rummages through the shelves. Happy 29th Birthday! She has a whole plan in place. Have Susan drop her off while her family is out and set up the celebration before they return. It isn’t a hard plan. It’s supposed to be simple— not hard and very simple.

And then the door opens.

Not the closet door but the front door. She hears the familiar tread of her family— her mother’s eco-friendly slip-ons and her fathers clunky, also eco-friendly, sandals, followed by the heavy thudding of her brother’s combat boots. Despite her mother’s pleading— and the fact that he hasn’t been deployed in over a year— he still wears them religiously. Still, her interest peaks— it doesn’t make sense. The only time he doesn’t wear them is when he goes to the beach and she could have sworn one of them had sent her a text earlier today asking if she had wanted to go with them—

“Keep your hands where I can see them, you hear me!”

She freezes, hands clamping around the towel in her grasp as she whirls around and squints through the grate in the closet door. She can’t make out everything in front of her but she can make out enough to know that something isn’t right. There are four people standing in the foyer. Not three— not just her mother, brother, and father— but four. She sees her mother shoved behind her father, his arm curled around her hip, and her brother, his hands held out in front of him towards the fourth person. His face, while slightly distorted from the grate, is terrified. Him— the man who’s faced the worst of the war— terrified.

Something is terribly wrong.

She pushes her gaze to the fourth figure, trying desperately to understand what’s happening. Dressed in all black, their back towards her, there isn’t much to go off of. Their stance is rigid, steps heavy as they slam the front door and lock it. Is her family being robbed? Is that what this is? She knows they’re well off— more than that. She knows her family is rich. But her neighbourhood is guarded— enclosed. She’s never heard of something like this happening—

She bites back a scream as the person shouts at her family, voice staticy as it crackles through what sounds like a modifier. “On your knees— now!”

Her mother’s cry rings through the air, piercing her chest like a bullet. She wants to scream too but something inside her catches the sound before she can. Maybe it’s common sense— her street smarts coming out to play for once in her life. Maybe it’s fear— the scream dissipating into a barely audible huff of air as she watches her brother sink wordlessly to the floor. Solidarity, perhaps. Maybe, though, it's the slab of iron in the person’s hand, pressed against her father’s head and winking at her in the bright foyer light.

A gun— whoever is in her home has a gun and is pointing it at her family.

“Please don’t hurt my family—” it’s her father this time, his hands in the air and voice deadly calm— how he manages that she has no idea— “I’ll give you whatever you want. Money, jewelry, whatever you want, it’s yours— just please don’t hurt them.”

It’s surreal— she’s heard that phrase in movies and shows— hell, she heard it in a theatre production one time— a macabre commentary about something she couldn’t remember if her life depended on it— does her life depend on it right now?— of course it doesn’t snap out of it y/n! She’s losing her mind, her throat is burning and her palms are starting to sting— the point is she never thought she would hear those words said aloud. She certainly never thought they would come from her own father as he covers her mother’s body with his own.

“I don’t want your money!” The intruder growls, their voice so low and grainy that she almost doesn’t understand.

What she does understand is the sharp click of the gun’s safety being released— she understands the way the muscles in her body tense all at once. In that moment the unthinkable happens—

She drops the towel.

It doesn’t make much of a sound at all, only a small thud as it falls, but it’s enough to make her jolt backwards, foot landing heavy in her brother’s cake. The heady scent of the cream-cheese icing melds with the Pine-Sol and she has to swallow the vomit that rises in her throat, not daring to lift her foot let alone move an inch as the hulking figure rises.

They spin around quickly, facing the closet with a covered face and squinted black eyes, and her heart stops dead in her chest. Can they see her? Do they know she’s in there? She had made a beeline for the closet when Susan dropped her off, not bothering to stop long enough to kick her shoes off until inside the small space. She hasn’t even turned the light on— there’s been enough pouring in through the grate to do without. Perhaps there’s a chance they don’t know she’s here.

She holds her breath as the figure steps forward, arms pressed tightly to her chest. Whoever it is get’s so close to the grate that for a moment she can’t see her family at all. It’s only a few seconds before they turn away— logically it can’t be more or else she’d be gasping for air— but it feels like a lifetime, her toes curling in the red-velvet and a steady bead of sweat rolling down the back of her neck. She prays the entire time— she doesn’t know to who— she doesn’t know if she’s being heard— but she prays.

And the figure turns around.

Her hands fly to her jeans immediately, frantically pressing against the material but coming away empty. Fuck— where the hell is her cellphone? She could have sworn it was in her pocket! She wracks her brain, trying to think of where it could be. She hadn’t brought her purse or a coat— why would she, she was only going home. She has both of those things in her bedroom upstairs. She had just slipped her debit card into her phone case and ran to meet Susan—

Fuck— no, no, no!

An image of Susan’s console jumps into her mind, her phone sitting in the cupholder, forgotten as she animatedly waves her hands around. She can’t even remember the story she’d been telling now. It was nothing important— now she knows that. Nothing important enough to warrant forgetting her phone. She never forgets her phone.

She sees movement from the corner of her eye and her gaze darts to her mother whose head is now turned towards the closet, her eyes— the very eyes she’s spent years wishing she could have inherited instead of her father’s because they’re just so lovely— locked on hers. They pierce through the thin opening, softening a fraction, and her heart jumps, restarting.

She sees her.

She knows— her mother knows that she’s there. She’s watching and she knows. It’s both relieving and terrifying, knowing that she isn’t alone but also what would happen if she’s caught. Y/n’s lips peel open instinctively and, ever her persistent mother, she shakes her head. It takes everything in her to not call out for her— to not burst through the closet doors and rush into her arms. But her mother’s instincts have always been better than her own.

So she doesn’t speak— doesn’t move— she just watches.

It all happens so fast— the time it would take someone to blink is the time it takes to watch everything she’s ever known crumble.

She watches as the intruder turns, deciding that the closet is empty and that there are more important matters. Matters meaning her family. Matters meaning the gun in their hand.

She watches as her brother lunges forward, his arms wrapping around the intruder and bringing them both to the ground with a thud that threatens to bring the entire house down around them. It all happens in slow motion— yet another thing she never thought she would experience off the big screen. They roll around for a moment, battling for control. For that moment her chest sags— he’s going to win. He’s a trained soldier and he’s strong and his birthday is in three days. He has to win.

But then a gunshot rings through the air and a cloud of smoke erupts from between their bodies.

And one of them slumps but it isn’t the one in the mask.

It smells like fireworks, the gunpowder. Like the fourth of July or labor day weekend. Like she should be celebrating with the neighborhood and not pressing her fist against her mouth, helpless as her brother’s body caves in on itself. She doesn’t even get time to process the crimson pooling from the corner of his mouth as his head slots towards her before the intruder is back on their feet.

She watches as the monster aims the gun again— matters being dealt with— and she watches as her mother nods ever so slightly, her mouth just barely forming one last ‘I love you’— different matters but she would later come to find that they were also being closed. Her mother has never been one to leave things unresolved.

The second gunshot doesn’t smell like fireworks— it smells like lemon Pine-Sol.

It smells like blood.

No, she’s not asleep but she’s definitely not awake.

In hindsight maybe she should have taken that breath. She would have, had she known. Hindsight is funny like that. No. Funny is the wrong word. Hindsight is cruel like that. Better. It makes her wish that she had just closed her eyes— that she smelled the lemon oil one last time before it mingled with the metal of her family’s death. In hindsight she wouldn’t have left her phone in Susan’s car. Or dropped the towel. Or said no to the beach. Or any other thing that led her to stand in the coat closet. And those are just the things she wouldn’t do.

She still can’t think about the things she would do— not without bile rushing into her mouth.

Bucky clears his throat and— like the towel— the mug almost slips from her fingers.

“You sure you don’t want to talk ‘bout it?” His voice is gentle— well, as gentle as she’s sure he can make it— and that’s all she needs to understand that he really has no idea as to what’s going on in her head.

Surely if he did then he wouldn’t be gazing at her with that look in his eyes.

Shrugging, she keeps her attention focused on her mug— the coffee doesn’t look nearly as appetizing as it had before. She raises it anyway, her lips sealing around the porcelain and pulling in another mouthful of the liquid. Somehow, despite the steam that had been rising from it only minutes ago, it’s ice cold now. She grimaces but swallows it anyway, if only to buy herself a few seconds to think of a suitable answer. Maybe that’s why Bucky drinks it too— as a distraction. As a guise.

The mug thunks off the table when she sets it down, her hand landing much heavier than she intends. Of course it does— gods can she ever do anything normally? She winces, passing him a look she hopes conveys that it was an accident. She doesn’t want him to think she’s angry with him. Not when it feels like he’s the only person she isn’t mad at. These days that’s hard to come by. Thankfully his blue eyes remain soft. Maybe he gets it.

“I, uh—” she twists her fingers together, dropping her gaze to his cheek— this isn’t the kind of thing you say while looking someone in the eye. Maybe she’s just a coward, though— “I had a dream. Erm— about that night. A memory. Kind of.”

Her voice cracks and she swallows, trailing off. She didn’t mean to say the last part but it’s like it forced itself past her lips, her psyche unable— unwilling— to withhold the truth from him. Well, not all of it at least.

It’s not the whole story. It’s not even close. What she doesn’t say is that it’s her fault. All of it. That if she had just acted— if she had done anything at all worth something then she would still have her parents. Her brother. That she may as well have killed them herself because she sure as hell didn’t do anything to stop it. She doesn’t tell him that she’s nothing but a scared, stupid girl who— when it came down to it— froze. A monster— The Queen of Death.

Aren’t queens supposed to save the people they care about?

“A memory?” He sounds confused but all she can see is the grain of the table, her eyes now refusing to look at even his skin.

It’s all she can do to play off the way her chin drops— the way the air gets sucked out of her lungs— as a nod. “Yeah.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything in return and she’s not about to pick her chin up from her chest to demand an answer. She likes him. She doesn’t exactly want him to know she’s a killer. Well, more so than he already does. He’s here, though, so it’s not like he doesn’t know that the people closest to her always end up dead. Mother, father, brother— dead, dead, dead. He just doesn’t know the extent of it— or that she’s the harbinger.

That there’s a little part of her that wonders if he’s going to end up dead too just for sitting across from her.

Would she save him or would she only watch from the closet as his body caved to the floor?

Bucky hums softly— reverently— and she remembers the way his skin had glowed only minutes ago— Icarus meeting the sun— and the way he had laughed— Icarus humming his praise to the sun— and she feels like she’s been submerged in ice.

Icarus falling.

What happens when Icarus hits the ocean? Will it smell like lemon Pine-Sol?

Nevermind, she doesn’t want to know the answer.

Bile pools over her tongue and she swallows it as a tapping sound catches her attention in the stillness, her eyes darting to the cause. Sparkling metal— his fingers. The gold gleams even more now that the sun has risen higher. It’s not raining today— was it raining the day Icarus fell? She can’t tear her gaze away from his metal digits as they thrum a beat against the table, the steady motion mesmerizing. It’s not raining but his fingers could fool her. It’s nothing dramatic— nothing harsh. Just the tap, tap, tap of his index and middle fingers, a little heavier than had it been his flesh hand.

It’s a normal motion— she misses normal.

Tap, tap, tap.

She misses the rain.

It hits her like a truck how much she longs for the grey haze of yesterday’s sky. The sun is too bright— her skin is too exposed. It feels like it’s beaming right through her hoodie, cutting through the heavy fabric and burning the flesh from her bones just to prove that they’re not the ivory they should be but rather charred and black. It feels like the sun is out for her blood— out to watch the citrus ichor drip from her veins through the veiled window. If her feet weren’t rooted to the floor, her toes digging painfully into the harwood, she’s sure she would be sinking below the table to escape the rays. She can’t breathe— her mouth tastes like acid. Like lemons.

She misses the rain.

Tap, tap, tap— it’s not the rain but surely it’s close enough, right?

Icarus would think it’s enough, right?

So why does it make her shoulders tense?

“A memory.” Bucky breaks the silence, repeating his words but this time they aren’t a question— not yet. “What d’you mea—” he stops, sentence dropping before picking up on a new, clearer note— “You were there?”

Maybe because it’s the sound of the puzzle pieces clicking together in his head.

It’s not an accusation— there’s no charge in his tone— but still she flinches, hands pressed together at the wrists, fingers tangled together, guilty. She’s yet to confess but she’s already been caught— she can feel it— red handed in red velvet and wondering if— when she glances past the table— she’ll see her foot still smeared in the cream cheese icing. She had stood in it for so long that she wouldn’t doubt it. It’s a part of her now.

She nods, not trusting her voice. Not trusting herself to not reveal more than she already has. She isn’t being accused but her heart is pounding so hard that she feels like she’s in the interrogation room again. She wiggles her toes— are they sticky or is she just imagining it? Her shoulders burn where the sun has managed to cut through the crack in the curtain. She misses the rain.

Tap, tap, ta— his fingers stop.

Her eyes dart back to his metal hand, the black and gold frozen mid tap.

“Holy shit—” there’s a pause, his fingers flex before straightening, flattening against the table before— “they didn’t tell me that.”

Bucky’s voice is so low that she almost doesn’t hear it— she probably wasn’t supposed to. She has to force herself to keep her gaze leveled below his, her voice steady despite the fact that she’s almost certain the sun has seared through her vocal cords. Her throat burns. Maybe he wasn’t so far off with the iced coffee after all. She wouldn’t mind it right now.

“I wasn’t sure if they would.” She croaks and then winces, swallowing before her throat can close on it’s own— she needs at least the semblance of control.

It’s the truth— she didn’t know. It would have made sense to tell him, though. It would have been polite, at the very least. She’s damaged, they should have told him. Watch out. They should have given him the papers— the records of the month she spent in a hospital bed. They should have told him. Maybe they were trying to help her— maybe they were trying to save him. But they should have warned him regardless.

She’s unstable; she’s liable to shut down in the worst moments.

She doesn’t sleep at night; she just screams and screams and screams.

She’s deadly; she won’t help you, Icarus.

His fingers start again but this time it sounds less like rain.

Tap, tap, tap. Mother, father, brother.

“They should have.” Bucky grinds out, voice thick— angry? “They should have told me.”

Is he angry with her? She squeezes her hands together tighter, her nails digging into her knuckles. Please no. She shouldn’t have said anything— she should have kept her mouth shut. Isn’t that supposed to be the one thing she’s good at? Not speaking out? Not talking? The thought of the dark haired man being angry at her is like poison in her blood. The tension rolls over her bones in a heavy wave, settling like a blanket, suffocating her.

She can’t breathe.

She needs to breathe.

“I know—” she pushes through her teeth, voice finally cracking— “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t know who she’s apologizing to— Bucky already told her not to apologize to him. She can’t help it though, the words are always on her tongue. Always haunting her.

I’m sorry I didn’t go to the beach— I know I missed a lot of family trips last year.

I’m sorry I left my phone in Susan’s car— I know you’re always telling me how forgetful I am.

I’m sorry I missed your birthday— I just wanted it to be a surprise.

Her skin itches, toes curling against the hardwood and the icing. It hurts. Everything hurts. The sun— the Pine-Sol. The sticky tinge to her skin where the blood had spattered through the grate. She needs out.

Tap, tap, tap. Mother, father, brother. Dead, dead, de— if she doesn’t get out of here right now there’s a good chance she’s going to explode.

“Do— ah— do you think maybe it would be okay to get some fresh air?”

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky @elijahs-wife @cari1bunny @im-just-star-dust @motherofallthesmallthings​ @hazardoushallucination​ @em-august @nuttytani @brown-eyed-babes

[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part Three - Most Of You

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 10k - Word count got away from me.

Summary: We learn a little about Y/N’s past. Tequila is involved and inhibitions lowered. 

Content Warnings: Mentions of death, themes of PTSD,18+ SMUT warning, oral, fingering, dirty talk, penetrative sex. Lots and lots of consent, cause consent is sexy and you know our boy Javi is nothing if not respectful.

MASTERLIST

AO3

Author Note: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s absolutely just porn with minor plot but I have no regrets.

Got the gif from this photo set during the week because THAT’S THE SMILE I’M ON ABOUT. That cute as fuck half smile; it melts my heart. 

Part One   -  Part Two 

It just so happened that when Javier decided to stop trying to seduce you, the two of you could actually be around one another and have a good time. Well, not quite as good as that night. But in the grand scheme of things; good-ish. 

After the debauchery that had occurred outside of the church the two of you had ceremonially agreed to a ceasefire on all hostilities with your second meeting. You were equal parts surprised and disappointed that Javier had been on his best behaviour, the two of you had successfully bought the ingredients and were currently producing what was sure to be a decent breakfast without either of you ending up naked. 

He was the picture of domesticity as he sat on the counter top with a beer in his hand at 8:15am as you whisked some eggs in a bowl using a fork, you paused for a moment, taking a sip of your own beverage, then resuming your task as you threw the eggs into the too hot pan making them sizzle on the skillet. 

"No, no, no, no." Javier cried and pushed himself off of the counter as he tutted, coming to your side and placing his hand on the curve of your waist to move you out of his way. His hand slithers forward and lingers a second on your own fingers before he takes the spatula and puts space between the two of you to manage the task at hand. 

For a moment, you're perplexed. The movement itself wasn't particularly invasive or breaking from the gentlemanly persona he had adopted in the last two hours, but rather it was an act of, well, familiarity. Which reason dictates simply shouldn’t exist between the two of you. 

You had known each other for a grand total of 48 hours and that was being generous as you had been comatosed for easily 15 of those. He had a bad habit of popping up when you least expected it and disarming you with an easy smile. 

You didn’t like how he made you feel. Everything you said, you measured his reaction, a pull of his lip, a flash of his teeth or a narrow of his brow; these were his tells, well his obvious ones. 

You tried desperately to convince yourself that this was platonic analysis. It would seem you could kid Javier but you couldn’t trick yourself. You felt things for the man that you really shouldn’t after knowing him for two days. You were frustrated with the situation, he’d slept with another woman hours after your encounter. You were jealous, sure, but not betrayed.  

It was a matter of pride, that evening had somewhat extinguished the fire for the bronzed man who was currently trying to save the eggs you’d flash fried. What you were experiencing were embers. Yes, embers. The fire hadn’t completely been doused and all you had was a residual heat. A deep glowing burning heat, sure. But eventually reality would be sure to dump some more water on this fire and you wouldn’t feel this lingering need for the man, right?

���¡Espero que te gusten los huevos calientes!” Javier hollered over the sizzling with a smirk on his face as he scraped at the pan with the instrument he’d stolen from you. 

“Eggs and Hot? That’s all I got!” You question a smile warming your face, apparently his enthusiasm was contagious. 

He chuckled at your words and nodded, “Tu español no es tan malo linda dama!”

“I got nothin’ besides español,'' you shrug. Javier let out another snicker, he seemed to laugh a lot but he was missing the soft wrinkles bracketing his mustache which made you think that maybe this wasn’t his natural state. There was a light silence whilst he sliced the loaf of bread you’d picked from the store. As you were setting the table your book caught your eye from its place on the coffee table and you couldn’t resist trying out some of your newly learnt infant level language. 

“Hola Javier, mi nombre es Y/N. Mi color favorito es el Y/F/C.¡Me gustan los perros!” 

(My name is Y/N, My Favourite colour is Y/F/C. I like dogs!)

Javier turned around his expression; a picture of incredulousness. His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, his mustache almost touching his nose as you got a view of his brilliant white teeth in a genuine honest to god grin. If you had a camera, you’d have captured that moment.

“I’ll have to be careful around you, huh, sunshine? These new Spanish skills of yours could get me into trouble.”

“Bailar es divertido!” You exclaim using the only Spanish phrase you know.

“What?...Dancing is fun?... Where the hell did you learn this stuff?”

“Español … para... niños”

“Española para niñas” Javier corrected helpful “Unless you’ve got something you need to tell me...” 

“Damn! The masculine and feminine, they briefly touched upon the theory in Spanish for Kids. It wasn’t as in depth as you might think though.” You joke with a huff. “Hey, do you know where I can get a better translating book?”

“Learning Spanish, huh? How long are you plannin’ on staying exactly?” You jump at the addition of a third voice, Steve appears looking thoroughly rested with his voice two octaves lower than it should be.

“Well ya’ know Stevie, it’s pretty ignorant to not learn a little of the language of the country you’re in.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Steve points out, you’d hoped he would give in and let it go considering Javier was here. Though seeing as he greeted his partner whilst grabbing a cup of coffee before turning expectantly towards yourself, your chances of skirting around the subject seemed slim. 

“I don’t have any commitments at home, not like I got the hospital waiting for me to come back. So... I’mma stay… ya know … live a little!”

“Gillian? She’s not waiting for you?”

“Nah, I quit.”

“You quit?! It took you fuckin’ ages to get that job.”

“Stevie, If I have to clean up puke in a fucking grocery store once more. I honestly don't think I can take it- don’t look at me like that. Three times is three times too many!” 

“You’re fuckin’ out of your mind. This isn’t a holiday.”

“No, but I need some change, you clearly need to get your ass kicked back in line. We both win! If you help me get a job it’ll be great… I can practically speak Spanish already....” 

“I dispute that.” Javier piped up.

“Shut up.” You say as you throw the tea towel at him. “Look Stevie. Everything’s fine. You were fine with Connie and Olivia being here. I’m a grown ass woman.” There was silence as Javier continued moving around the kitchen, only this lull was a little heavier, you chalk it up to you being the youngest and the only girl in a family with three brothers. God knows they’d been benching you your entire life. 

“Fine.” Steve huffed and sat down at the table as you and Javier served up. The man in question gave you a conspiratorial wink as you passed one another. Nothing more was said on the matter as you tucked into breakfast. Infact, pleasant conversation was kept up all through the meal until it came time for Javier and Steve to go.

“We gotta get into the embassy. Heard rumours the new boss starts soon and we need to get our ducks in a row.” Steve nodded to Javier's words. “You ready to get back in the ring?”

“Been ready for the past two weeks, man. This leave of absence was bullshit”

Steve grabs his coat as you watch expectantly, waiting for your invite to the boys club, that inevitably doesn’t come. Instead you receive a much more in character; “Stay in the apartment, for god sakes Y/N. Just for today. I’ve left my number on the pad if you need me.”

You nod noncommittally and combined with a shrug the action hits its mark as Steve sighs.

“This isn’t funny. Bogotá isn’t safe for you.” You repeat your action, this time without the shrug. He huffs but carries on out of the door, he must have realised that was as much as an acquiescence as he was going to recieve, Javier follows him but stops on the threshold. 

“Te encontraré ese libro, Guapa.” He calls out before closing the door behind him.

“no hablo español, motherfucker!” You shout after him, you vaguely hear his warm chortle as he descends down the stairs. With your legs propped up on the chair in front of you, you huff and look around the room.  The absolute assholes had left you with the washing up. Yeah, feminism was definitely taking a hit during your time in Colombia. 

Apparently the agents hadn’t got the memo about the change in gender roles, you cursed their names as you turned on the radio to some latin music and began the arduous process of cleaning the entire kitchen, including the appliances and counters you hadn’t even used. 

You then moved onto the lounge, hey, if you were going to play the role of housewife, you were going to at least be a good one. You hoovered, reorganised and dusted your ass off for at least three-ish hours before you got bored, abandoning your work for snooping, you were only human after all.  

First you looked in the medicine cabinet and found nothing good, I mean, you don’t know what crazy drugs you were expecting your brother, the DEA agent, to have in his possession but you were crestfallen with the dull discovery of a spare toothpaste, American xanax and ‘aspirina bebé’.

With a lamentful sigh you took your sleuthing into the bedroom, pulling his bedside drawer open with a hesitant hand. You don’t know what dark sexual preferences your brother and Connie may or may not have and you didn’t want to risk permanent scarring. As you open it fully you glance inside remaining tentative, your eyes first fall on the badge left behind. He must have forgotten it. You take it out and place it on the bed beside you as you continue to investigate.

Your hands find a wad of folded yellow notepad paper, the jagged edges have been ripped from the main pad in frustration. Unfolding the wad, you do a once over of the sheet in front of you. The words ‘Dear Connie,’ make you halt in your sted.  Finding a gimp mask or weed was funny, this however crossed a line. So you placed the notes back where you found them, you turned to grab the badge and place it back on top of the pile but as the light shone on the metal an idea sprung to mind.

To say you were famed for your impulse control issues was an understatement. You often acted first with no regard for the consequences, hence your presence in Colombia and your extensive shoe collection. But as you drove your brother's Jeep through the streets of Bogotá, you realised that you may finally push Steve over the edge. Already in too deep you took the final turn, following the map you had spread out on the passenger side and were greeted with the American flag. Eureka. You had taken an embarrassing amount of wrong turns but had finally arrived.

You pulled up to the barrier and smiled at the Colombian guard donned in a dark green uniform. 

“Hola, Agent Murphy DEA asked me to drop off his badge.” You wiggle the object of your deceit in his eye line. 

“Identification?” The guard asked in heavily accented English.  You shut off the car's engine as you turn to your purse and pull your driver's license out and hand it over. He inspects the plastic, looking between you and the ID before nodding and handing it back to you, definitely not a social butterfly.  He then waved to the gentleman controlling the barrier, allowing you access.  

“DEA office is to the right. Personnel only.”

“I’ll be in and out, quick as a flash.” You reassuringly smile at the man and receive only a stony glare in return. Deciding to stop pushing the apparently limitless bounds of your dumb luck you pull through the barrier and into the car park on the right. You park up in what you hope is an unreserved space and hop out of the tall vehicle.

“Right, what's the plan again?” you mumble to yourself as you pause for a second, before starting towards the cream building and hopping up the stairs. You cling to the badge like a life raft, terrified you’ll be stopped as the imposter sight-seerer you are. Now in your defence, you knew this was dumb. Steve had an important job and distracting him wasn’t helpful in the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. Stay inside- like that was ever going to happen.

So you scoured the offices of the embassy for about fifteen minutes before you decided to break and ask for help, finally stopping an american looking woman with large stylish shoulder pads and even bigger hair. 

“I’m looking for the DEA office? Steve Murphy, Javier Peña?”  She seemed to bristle at the mention of the latter.

“Take that elevator to the third floor and it's the third door on the left, but watch out for Peña, he’s a real- '' She cut herself off with a huff, before nodding your way and walking off.

No shit, sister. 

Following the potentially scorned woman's instructions you found yourself in the DEA Bogotá headquarters; only Steve and Javier were nowhere to be seen.  

Fuck.

You looked around the room taking a slight step back getting ready to turn on your heel as an older white haired man entered the room. 

“Hey Newbie, I need two copies of each of these and I need these faxed to the team in Medellín.”

“Uh-”

“I needed them there yesterday, so get to it.” He dumps the two huge piles of files into your arms as you stare at him bemused. Looking back you still don’t know why you didn’t say anything, but you rolled up your sleeves and whipped out that can-do attitude and got to work, at what was apparently your new guerilla admin job. And that is how Javier and Steve found you two hours later, fighting with a fax machine and on the phone to the office in Medellín.

“No- I understand how the machine works… Yes… Yes I’ve turned it off and on, I think the problems on your side… No I don’t- Well Weaver needed the case file there yesterday so you need to figure something out! Yes… Yes I’ll hold. “ You turned when you heard steps behind you, pressing the receiver between your head and your shoulder and holding the fax machine manual. 

“Hey Guys!” You say cheerily, pretending like this was completely normal, like you hadn’t just dropped into Steve’s life and then surprised him every step of the way. 

“What in the hell are you-” Steve started, however the woman on the other side of the phone decided to pick up, you held up one finger to the two of them as a pause. 

“Oh, Hey Salome, It’s no problem… that’s great, I'll give it a try.” You drop the manual and press the green button on the fax machine, the machine begins making the whizzing sound you’d been chasing for the past twenty minutes. “Sounds all good on my end. Right, that's great I’ll send the rest across now. Thanks, have a nice day!”

“Am I high, right now? What the fuck is going on?” Steve’s tone matched his face with the disbelief painted upon it.  He had taken a seat at the desk which just so happened to be next to the fax machine and copier. Javier sat at his own in front of the typewriter with a smirk on his face lighting up a cigarette.

“Uh, well... I came to give you your badge cause’ you forgot it at home and then Weaver asked me to do some copies. Turns out that security here is pretty lax, cause’ I’ve been copying and faxing classified case files for the past two hours and no one seems to know or care that I don’t work here.” Steve’s eye all but twitched as he rubbed at his face. He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began pouring himself a glass.

“Fine.” He actually shrugged after downing the drink in one. Damn, You weren’t sure which had broken him, yourself or Colombia. “Better you’re here where I can keep tabs on you...Javi, can we get her an actual job?”

“I’ll run it by Messina,” Javier shrugged as he stood from behind his desk. “Probably best not to mention the perusal of classified cases though.”

So that’s how the three of you ended up at dinner celebrating your new job four days later, you were officially an office administrator for the DEA in Colombia, heading to the CNP base of operations in Medellín alongside your brother and his partner as their administrator, well, from what you understood, you were their dogsbody.  Your Spanish speaking ability had been greatly exaggerated but you were undeniably overqualified for the position, so, pending a background check you were through doors. 

Your interview with Steve and Javi’s boss; Messina, had been nerve wracking and your Murphy name had won you no favours. 

You’d given it your best and from what you could see you’d managed to convince her you were worth your salt. 

Yep, you’d proved yourself totally capable and more importantly, completely willing to move around 8 hours away to Medellín to live on an army base where a drug cartel was incredibly active. According to Javi this had apparently made you a very appealing hire to the DEA.  As such you were being sent along with the boys to help out on the front line, well, as close to the front line as an admin/dogsbody gets.

The three of your glasses clinked in unison, before you drained your shot with a regretful gasp, Tequila was the devil. 

“Thank you to Javi, for not only saving my sister from her stupidity once, but twice… or is it three times now?!” Steve lifted his second shot as he gave his heartfelt speech. Picking up the lime you’d just sucked the juice out of you launched it at him, missing by some margin. He let out what could only be described as a snigger as both him and Javi threw their second shots back.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you were wasted. 

The three of you had enjoyed a meal and many, many subsequent drinks. Knowing full well the two men had a distinct advantage of having had at least a year to pickle their livers in whiskey from the stress of this place, you had insisted that for every two drinks they had, you had one. . 

Still, six drinks in with no sign of stopping you felt better than you really had any right to. The room had yet to start spinning and for those small mercies, you were thankful.

“Nah, Thankyou to you both! I’ve heard Medellín is lovely this time of year!”

“Well, you won’t know. You’ll be spending all of your time on base, where it’s safe.”

“Steve-”

“Non-negotiable. You wanna come to Medellín, fine. But you do what I say, and no Y/N’s day out like in Bogotá.” 

“Dude, you’re such a buzz-kill!”

“Dude? What are you 15?!” Javier jokes with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been here only a week and yet he’d managed to navigate how to defuse an impending Murphy fight from a mile away.

“You should’a seen her at 15. Those teeth!”

“Ya’ got any pictures?” Javi asks, half distracted with flagging down the waitress and showing her five fingers.

“Really Steve, you wanna go there? After the earring incident?” Javier turns his full attention on you. 

“Murphy had an earring?”

“No-” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Yep, a nice little hoop.”

“I didn’t…”

“It got caught on his windbreaker and he ripped it out of his ear, it got infected.”

“Wind breaker?” Javier was biting his lip and staring at your brother, not really trying so hard to contain his laughter.

“Can’t think why I didn’t want you around, Sis. Look- I was trying something out; It didn’t work, so I moved on.” You wait a beat, allowing Javier to take in the information before you helpfully and without prompt drop a nugget of information for the Hispanic man.

“... He had to go to hospital.” A chortle burst unintentionally from Javier’s chest as your comment caught him by surprise. 

“Y/N!” Steve burst out in frustration, making you cackle with glee.

“Okay, Okay.” You hold your hands in mock surrender as the waitress drops another round of drinks on the table.

“Let’s head over to the discotheque, live music- no Sicario’s. Big with Bogotá policia so very safe.” Javier pitched like he was speaking to a child as he tried to convince Steve. He knew you were in from the excitement that lit up your form.

“I don’t know, dancing-”

“Would be good for you! Come on Steve, this place is closing soon anyway-” You counter, only to be cut off as he frantically looks at his watch. 

“What time is it- I promised I’d phone Con tonight- FUCK!” He stood quickly grabbing the table to steady himself and ran to the phone box just outside of the bar, you could just about see him from where you sat in the window booth besides Javi.

The two of you looked at one another for a moment, you weren’t quite at the level where conversation came easy, but you weren’t uncomfortable by any means.

“Thanks for talking to Messina for me… honestly. You’ve done so much for me since I got here.”

“Like I said, it’s no problem, guapa.” He smiles at you, not a smirk for once but a delighted easy smile that rarely graces his face. “I saw your CV.”

“Oh.” The smile drops off of your face, his eyes analyse your reaction, the easy smile replaced by a sombre expression. 

“Yeah, Oh. You were a doctor, a surgeon? I thought you mopped up vomit in a grocery store in Miami?”

“It’s complicated.” You gave him no further explanation, you expected him to move on, except Javier wasn’t like other people, he didn’t make things easy. He stared at you expectantly with those deep brown questioning eyes.  “Christ, okay. Yes I was in my final year of residency, not quite a surgeon.”

“How does that happen?”

“How does what happen?” You question, you know you’re being difficult but this isn’t something you’ve talked about with Steve, for Godsakes. He did that trick once more, hitting you with those soul-full eyes. 

Honestly, it was lucky you weren’t working for Escobar, forget waterboarding, all Javi would have to do was look at you to get you to give up your darkest secrets. “Things didn’t go my way, I wasn’t happy there. The hours were long and that shit was heavy.” 

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but he didn’t push any further, finally respecting your reluctance, he nodded. Stubbing out his cigarette and tilting his head towards the shots he asked “...Another?” 

“Why not?” You reply hesitantly.

Taking the salt you go to shake it onto the back of your hand when a tanned one stops your movement in its wake.

“No, no, no. Let’s do it a little different.” His eyes shot up to where your brother was leaning against the phone booth before he took your hand in his. Adjusting his grip he lifts your wrist to his mouth. Your heart is beating in your ears as you watch as his pink tongue pokes out and laps one, twice at your pulse point. A long line of saliva is left on your wrist as he shakes the salt over it. His eyes meet yours for a moment, as if asking permission. 

You don’t know how you even instruct your brain to nod, but regardless you carry out the action. Javi brings his mouth to your wrist once more in one solid stroke of his talented tongue, your eyes clamp closed as he finishes swiping up the salt before draining both the tequila and lime.

You’re breathing heavy as you open your eyes, to find those mahogany ones laser focused on you.

“You missed a step.” You mumble, your eyes never leaving his as you hold the lime up to his mouth, rind first. His teeth close over it and his lips just barely graze your fingertips. You turn to check on Steve, thankfully your brother has his back to the two of you, deep in conversation with Connie. Probably for the best, given your plan.

You turn sideways to face Javi, lifting one of your legs up onto the booth and bending it at the knee to get a vantage point. The alcohol coursing in your veins gives you the courage as one  hand wraps around his neck and the other his shoulder, you lean forwards to give one long solitary lick up his neck, right on the pulse. You taste his sweat stained skin, salty and warm on your tongue. 

Reaching for the shaker, you apply it liberally, smiling as you drop some of it down his t-shirt. Though from the stare he seemingly refused to remove from you, you don’t think he much cared.  Once you considered your job done, you turned back and pushed his head to the side and began licking the salt from his neck, this time you tortured him with three small cat licks along the flesh, you felt his neck tense as his hand moved from its place on the pleather booth and wrapped around your thigh. 

You reached back to the table and sank your shot. Wincing you turned back to Javier, leaning forward to grab the lime from his mouth. As you did so, he dropped it purposefully, staring directly into your eyes, a clear challenge, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you forward locking your lips in a devastating kiss. He tasted of lime, tequila and just Javier; that unexplainable component which was both sweet and smoky. His tongue plundered the depths of your mouth, seemingly uncaring of your brother who was mere metres away. Your hands roved his chest before locking in the short hair on the nape of his neck. 

Unexpectedly it was Javi who broke the kiss. The two of you paused with your foreheads meeting, much like the night you met.  He seemed to be trying to regain control.

“Meet me in the bathroom?” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his beautifully angular hooked one. He breathed out heavily through his nose, his eyes opening and pushing you away by your shoulders.

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you in the fucking bathrooms of a filthy fucking bar- are you crazy?” Behind his eyes a rage and arousal battled, apparently you had rattled him with your question, he reached forward for his whiskey, and took a sip whilst shaking his head and trying to centre himself. “I’m giving you whiplash? Yeah that’s real cute. You change what you want every single fuckin’ day, then look at me like I’m a dick.”

You supposed he had a point, after all you had been the one to ask for the redo and then stared at him longingly every day since. “It’s not an easy situation to navigate, ok? I came here for Steve-”

“You didn’t come here for Steve.” He uttered under his breath, staring straight ahead with his elbow perched on the table and holding the glass to his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come here for Steve, not completely. You came here for you.”

“That’s not-” Javier turns to you, locking you down with his gaze. It was easy to forget he was a cop; observative and attentive to a fault, he could call your bullshit from a mile away. 

“Everything you’ve done since you got here, that’s not for him. You’re desperate for some life back in those veins. You don’t just give up being a fuckin’ surgeon and feel fulfilled with your position at a fuckin’ grocery store, Sunshine.”

“Wow, you’ve got me pegged, huh? No wonder they’ve got you after Escobar, best detective on the fucking case.” You roll your eyes refusing to look at him, sipping a beer as a way of hiding how he’s unnerved you. Everything he’s saying true and you’re ashamed of yourself.

“You don’t come down to the embassy if you’re trying to make your brother's life easier. I’m not criticizing Guapa, but how about cutting the bullshit messiah complex.”

You’re embarrassed and trying to look anywhere but him. His hand reaches for your own as Steve rounds the corner, the tanned fingers instead lock around the shot glass in front of you. 

“So, what’d I miss?”  Your voice is lodged in your throat, you don’t think you could speak even if you could think of the words you wanted to use. Javi answers in some nondescript way you don’t even really listen to before ordering another round of drinks.

“Y/N/N, You alright?” Steve asked, ever the concerned brother.

(your nickname)

“Yeah, Javi- uh, he saw my cv.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you still feel bad for using past trauma to make your brother skirt around the issue in the way you knew he would.

“Oh, Uh… Drink?” Steve stared at you, uneasy. 

“Yeah, a drink would be great.” Your voice is monotone to even your ears, you reach forward and down the beer in front of you, desperate for this awkwardness to be over and the feeling in the pit of your stomach to vanish. You’re happy to say after around ten minutes of the two men holding up the conversation, it atleast eases slightly.

There’s a lull as you all wait drinks arrive and you have managed to regain your basic motor skills. This is the selfishness Javi is talking about. Steve needs a good night, without feeling crappy about his damaged sister stealing the lime-light. So putting your best foot forward you look across to Javi and smile.

“So, how was Connie?”

“She’s good! She’s enjoying getting back to work, her sister’s having Liv during the day.” Guilt swells in your stomach once again. You should be there making Connie’s life easier, but instead you abandoned her to play the hero in Colombia. The shame spiral is slowly clawing at your stomach, as you force yourself to take a deep breath. 

“That’s good…” You’re saved by the bell, or rather the waitress bringing over the tray of beverages. Taking your beer first, you reach across and controversially take two of the shots. Both men chuckle at your bravado as Javi asks the woman for an extra shot.

The night continued on much like that, minus the regret whirlwind as the tequila seemed to help get rid of any real self reflection. The three of you didn’t even make it to the discotheque, as by the time the bar closed, the three of you began the short walk home, you were carrying the large box of pizza that you had insisted on ordering.

Surprisingly, Steve was the drunkest of your trio. His phone call with Connie had sent him into his own spiral. He began drinking tequila like it was water, to the point Javier had thrown in the towel, deciding he’d much rather like to live to see tomorrow. So with your pizza in one arm and your other wrapped around your brother's waist, you and Javi half carried Steve home and up the stairs into the apartment. 

The two of you unceremoniously dumped him on his bed, carefully you placed the pizza box you had cradled to your breast on the chest of drawers before you stepped forward past Javier. 

You pulled Steves boots off of his feet and pulled his legs up onto his bed, taking his belongings out his pockets; yes, including his gun, you placed them on the bedside table. You then placed a glass of water and an aspirin next to them, feeling sympathy for his head tomorrow morning. 

Happy that your job was done, you shut the light off and went into the living room, once again cradling the pizza. Javier was slouched on the sofa/your bed flicking through your Spanish introduction book, as you entered the room he threw it back on the table and pointed at the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.

“Got any more?”

“Think, that was his last one…” you shrug.

“Come down to mine for a drink? I don’t like how we left things.”

“No more talking?” Javier looks at you reproachfully, scanning your body as if the direct proposition you’d accidentally given him was the last thing he expected. “Uh- I mean- no more hard questions and no more...touching.”

“Alright.” He nods, pushing himself up with a sigh. “But if there’s no more touching, I get half of that pizza Sunshine.”

You nod and smile, following him down the stairs to his apartment. As you cross the threshold emboldened by tequila, you don’t dwell on your self destructive tendencies as Javier’s recent comments would’ve made you if you were sober. 

You’re tired and all you want is a drink of whiskey, some pizza and for Javier to give you that smile, the one that makes the side of his mustache raises and reveals the pearly white of his teeth. Dropping the pizza down on the coffee table you make yourself at home, sitting very deliberately on the couch he hadn’t screwed someone else on. If he notices, Javi didn’t say anything. 

He hurried over, cigarette balanced in between his lips as both hands were taken up. One holding two glasses and the other cradling the whiskey. He sits himself down with considerably more grace than you had, on the other sofa. You reach down the side of the sofa where you spy the remote peeking out from beneath the leather cushion and begin skimming through the channels until you find the telenovelas you'd unironically begun watching since arriving in Colombia.

Opening the box of Pizza, you take a slice and begin devouring the meal. It’s not quite like pizza as you know it, but it's tasty and full of carbs to soak up the alcohol so you can’t find a fault with it.  The two of you eat in silence for around half an hour.

It seemed neither of you were eager to break the silence after the daunting conversation from earlier. It’s as you’re taking your first sip of whiskey watching two women argue in Spanish on the television you decide to speak.

“I figure I owe you some answers.”

“You don’t owe me shit, Sunshine.” He’s leaning back in his seat, whiskey balancing on his knee and a fresh smoke in his hand.  “Sure I’m intrigued, but I'll figure you out in the end. Miami’s own angel of death?”

You chuckle at how close to the mark he is as he makes a shot in the dark. “I’m gonna need a refill if we’re gonna talk about our feelings…”

“Feelings… woah, woah, woah. I didn’t sign up for that.” He has a brazen smirk on his face, as he takes the now empty glass from your palm and fills it up. You down a second and he repeats the task.

“I killed a kid,” You wheeze as you wince from the burn turning your head towards the television and nursing the now full whiskey glass between your hands. “You asked why I gave up becoming a surgeon. I... I was the lead resident on a fuckin’ appendectomy. I could do that shit in my sleep. I perfed the abdominal wall as I was geting ready to close him up; a tiny fucking knick. There were no bleeders and his vitals remained normal, didn’t even notice I’d done it.  It was as they were taking him back to the ward, he just crashed.”  

You finish another glass and as your eyes water, you pretend it's the burn of the alcohol. You breathe heavy, your upper lip quivering. You’ve heard of the sensation but never felt it. 

“I froze. I opened him up in the lift, by the time I got back in there, he’d bled out. A twelve year old; Justin Miller. Just a fucking kid.” Javi doesn’t try to interrupt or make you feel better, which honestly made the whole thing easier. 

“His mom sued the shit out of me and the hospital, can’t say I blame her. I took a sabbatical and when it was time to go back, I couldn’t. Couldn’t go into the OR without having a fuckin’ panic attack.” You hadn’t met Javi’s eyes for the entirety of the one-sided conversation, scared that when you looked up you’d no longer find those treacle eyes filled with warmth. 

Silence fills the air for a devastating second whilst Javier digests your words.

“You fucked up.” He mumbled finally,  your eyes shot up to his own and within the pools of chocolate you found his usual warmth, though his customary jovial expression was suddenly somber. Such an expression looked strange on the gentle man you’d come to know, but you knew it was far from out of place. “In our line of work, you mess up; someone dies. It’s not fair or easy, just is what it is.”

You don’t have a word for the noise you make, somewhere between a scoff and a gasp. You chuckle as his response to years of complex trauma you’ve never recovered from is boiled down to five simple words.

“It is what it is.” You repeat disbelieving.

“Can’t change the past. Useless to try.”

“Stuff it down with the brown?” You ask, lifting your empty glass in a cheers.

“Exactly, Guapa.” He unscrewed the whiskey bottle and began pouring you a generous portion. As he’s screwing the lid back on he sits back down, this time though he’s on the couch next to you. “Maybe someday I’ll get teary and we can talk about my fuck ups.”

Your only response is to punch at his hard thigh next to you as you take a long sip, thinking about the information you’d willingly just divulged to Javi.  “I’ve never talked about that before.”

“Not with Steve?”

“Not with anyone. I was ashamed for a long time, still am. But it’s different now; more manageable.”

“Ready to operate then, Doctor Murphy?”

“Asshole.” You say with a reluctant smile to the joke at your own expense.

“pendejo” he leaned back on the sofa as he translated. 

“pen-dejo?”

“Si muy bueno.”

“Another!” 

“Coger!”

“Co-g-er?”

“Si insistes…” He trails off with a smirk.

“You’re a dick.” 

“Yes, I am.”

After placing your drink on the coffee table, you lean over to Javi slowly, refusing to break eye contact, all the while and you lay your head on the plush leather of the sofa; nearer his shoulder than his own face. 

“Thankyou, Javi.” 

“I keep telling you, Sunshine. It’s nothing”

“It’s everything,” You close the distance and place a kiss on his lips. It’s neither heavy nor chaste, like when he initiated them. This is full of meaning, It speaks of letting go of the past and welcoming the future, it's deep and warm and delicious. Your tongue licks at his own as your hand rises to rest on his cheek holding him there, you explore the depths of his mouth instead of conquering them. He tastes of the whiskey and somehow residual tequila, you find yourself getting drunk off of the taste of him. 

Pulling away you rest your forehead against his own. “I’m so tired… and drunk.”

“Sleep with me.”

“Javier, you said- I mean, I don’t think-”

“No, sleep. Just sleep... with me. Gotta be better than the couch up there,”

“No funny business?”

“Scouts honor.”  After a moment of contemplation you decide that this was specifically breaking the rules of your selfishness, the tequila may have altered your perception of the rules somewhat but you had wanted this man for so long. After your emotional confession, falling asleep next to him seemed cathartic.

You take the remote once more and click the red power button, the screen goes black as Javier has already disappeared into his bedroom. You hear him rummaging around in his drawers as you cross the threshold. Once he’s seemingly found what he was looking for, he holds the article up to your inspecting eye. 

It’s a plain olive green v-neck tee, nothing particularly special about it, but it would do as pyjamas, so you accept it gratefully, much preferring a tshirt to the sundress you’d worn out to dinner. You push the straps off of your shoulders, letting them fall under your armpits as you clutch the dress to your front. You pull Javier's t-shirt over your head and are greeted by the fragrance you’d come to love. It smelt like washing powder, spice and cigarette smoke, you wouldn’t say smoke was on your top tier of smells list but it reminded you of Javi so you couldn’t bring yourself to turn your nose up at it. 

Once the shirt was covering all the important bits, you lowered your dress and stepped out of the offending cloth. 

“A little late for modesty, eh?” He smirks as he lights his cigarette, leaning against the pillows of the bed. He was referring to the morning after you’d arrived in Colombia, where you’d walked through this very apartment, bare as the day you were born. 

At some point Javi had rid himself of his dress shirt and dropped onto the bed still wearing his jeans. You shimmy your bra down the sleeve of the tee, to make a point. Winking at him as you finally pull it free. You fling it on top of where your dress lay abandoned. 

“You’re still a perv for that.” You smile fondly at the man as you clamber over to your side of the bed. He’d taken the left, closest to the door. He doesn’t reply as you make yourself cosy, under the thin blanket of the duvet.

You roll over to face him, he seems to be miles away. 

“Where’d you go?” You ask softly, though he startles still. 

“I’m right here,” He deflects, leaning over to the ash tray to stub the smoke out.

“Ok…” You roll your eyes as he turns off the lamp and lies flat on the bed next to you. The two of you are silent for a while. It’s not quite awkward but it's definitely not comfortable silence, the two of you know the implications of your decision tonight. Even if Javi is being a perfect gentleman. Your eyes have yet to acclimate to the dark as you stare out trying to search for his form. 

“Stop staring at me.”

“It’s dark, I’m not staring at anything.” You reply to his childish remark. You hear a chuckle catch in his throat. He seems then to have finally made his decision, he reaches forward and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. You go to stop him, but there's nothing to stop. He makes no further move as he holds you there. Your cheek rests on the overheated skin of his pectoral, it has just enough give to be comfier than any pillow you’ve ever encountered. 

“Maybe, I’ll tell you about my fuck ups one day.” He whispers into your hair, despite the way he says it being non-committal there's a promise behind the words. You don’t reply, already drifting off into the best sleep you’ve had since arriving in Colombia, or perhaps ever. 

A part of your brain registers Javi placing a kiss on the crown of your head as your eyes finally shut, though it is quickly replaced by the singular thought of ‘God, I hope I don’t drool all over him.

                                                       “You sober?” You look up at the clock on the bedside table that reads 5am. You’d been asleep for about four hours. You make a non committal noise in your throat. 

“Javi?” You mumble sleepily, the man behind you is peppering kisses on your neck.

“You want this?” Again you groan, this time however, you nod your head. His arm rises to wrap around your neck, arching your back to get you closer to him. “Do you want this?”

“God yes.” You gasp, pushing your hips back against his bulge. His hands release your stomach as he kisses down your neck once more. His hands are hard on your flesh as they map out your body in the dark.

His hands continue to roam your body as they slide under his shirt, they land on your breasts, he can’t help himself as he weighs them in his hand. He groans in your ear at the feel of them in his palm. You’d always had Javier down as an ass man, he’d nearly burnt a hole through your jeans the night you’d met. But apparently Javi was a man of many tastes as he worshiped your nipple with the pads of his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud through his thumb and forefinger. 

You groan at the sensation and push yourself back into him, desperate to feel every inch of his body against your own. You pull away suddenly and he makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, though all of his questions are answered as you pull his shirt over your head and throw the offensive fabric across the room. As Quick as a flash he’s back on you, his mouth attached to your neck, giving you absolutely no quarter. 

He’s the one bucking into you this time and that seems to awaken part of your brain, your hands reach behind you they’re clumsy from sleep and the angle you have is awkward, you struggle with the button of his jeans for a second before his hand leaves one of your breasts to undo it for you. His hand returns as quickly as it left though it doesn't stay there for long as it slowly roves south, stroking the flesh of your stomach and making your entire being tighten up in anticipation as he feels you through your boy shorts. His touches are light at first, testing and exploring your body, before his fingers begin teasingly rubbing at your clit seeming to delight in the way, your wetness seeped through your underwear.

You force your brain back to the task at hand as your hand finds his abdomen and lowers through the hair lurking below his zipper, mimicking the actions he had performed on you moments before, however you have no intention of teasing. 

They find their mark, and you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’d felt him on the sofa that night but my god, your imagination hadn’t done him justice as your hand just about closed around him as you pumped him awkwardly behind you. He groaned in your ear and began whispering in a blend of Spanish and English.

His hands rise to dip under your panties, they brush across your mound before they find their home. His fingers barely touch you at first, seeming to be getting the lay of the land. After a moment of teasing, a single solitary finger swipes slowly along your slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on his fingers. 

He groaned in your ear. “So fucking wet, that sweet little cunt is so ready for me…” Instantaneously you lose all motor skills as your body goes into shock, Javier’s dirty mouth would be the death of you.

Fucksake Y/N he wasn’t even inside of you, yet here you were writhing in his arms like a wanton whore from a single sentence. 

Your reaction seemed to spur him on as he let go of your body and rolled you onto your back. He swung around on his knees to fit between your legs. His hands rested on your hips, gripping onto the panties that lay there before he rolled them down your legs and threw them behind him. He leaned forward on his elbows, to stare at the most intimate part of you. 

Javi began kissing down your thighs, placing small bites along the sensitive skin along the way, getting closer and closer to the throbbing warmth of your pussy. 

“I meant what I said, cariño. I want to know how you taste.” Your mind is brought back to that church, the way he had you pushed against those bars, you didn’t think your body could constrict any further. You were desperate for any kind of contact. And you knew right there and then that you had been right; This man would destroy you. 

He struck then, much like a cobra towards his prey. His tongue flattened against your warmth, breaching your folds and catching on your clit.  The tip of his tongue was skilled as it danced along your bud, drawing cry after cry from you as your hands grabbed at his short ink black hair. 

He takes one final lap at your swollen clit before his tongue goes lower, he pushes through and sinks his tongue inside of you. His nose, that you’d appreciated for its character bumped perfectly against your clit making stars shoot behind your eyes.  You clenched around his tongue, desperate to be filled, he seemed to get the message as two fingers were quickly buried in your aching hole. 

“So fucking tight,  Guapa, I don’t know if I can fit three...te lo vas a tomar tan bien.” His tongue had risen back up to your clit, the combination of the vibration and filth of his words made a whimper drop from your lips, before he started rotating his tongue in circles around your swollen bud as his two fingers pumped in and out of your cunt at a thundering pace drawing you closer and closer to the edge as the minutes went by.

Finally, his fingers curled inside you as he sucked your clit into his mouth and all at once you were pushed off the cliff. You couldn’t tell what pushed you over that first peak so quickly, maybe it was the fact that it was Javier, the man who had been plaguing your dreams since you arrived in Colombia, currently between your legs devouring your cunt like a starving man, perhaps it was a culmination of five days of foreplay, but whatever the reason, when you fell, you fell fucking hard. 

You clenched around Javi’s fingers like a vice, so much so he hissed into your pussy and began thrusting his fingers faster. Spots clouded your vision as your whole body curved upwards and around the man giving you this pleasure as your legs clamped around his head and your fingers must have scratched his scalp as your hips thrust, riding his face to your peak. You were as taut as bowstring before the tension finally snapped and your body exploded in euphoria. You let out a cry as you crescendo on Javi's talented tongue.

He didn’t stop straight away, even after your body slumped back against the bed, he coaxed you through the aftermath of your orgasm, lapping at your entrance and drinking your come like it was the most delicious wine he’d ever sampled, groaning all the while.

Finally, he pushed himself forward, kissing at your thighs, your mound and finally your stomach as he came to rest over you, holding all his weight on his elbows. His face met your own as he kissed you deep, fucking your mouth with his tongue as he had done your pussy moments before. He leans back rubbing at your stomach, at your hips, at any flesh he can get his hands on. 

“Sabes mejor de lo que podría haber imaginado precioso.” He whispers against your breast as his mouth locks around your nipple. Javier Peña speaking Spanish did things to you, even if he hadn’t been stimulating your breasts you knew for a fact you’d be just as wet from hearing him speak in what you could only assume was a first language from the ease with which it left his mouth. You wished more than anything you could understand what was undoubtedly the filth coming from his mouth. 

You had recovered enough from his assault on your clit, to move your hands from your sides. They raised up and traced the tanned skin on his chest. He really was beautiful. He pulled back to stare at you, giving you a clearer view of his body.

He was muscled yet lithe and you took a self indulgent moment, committing the sight of him to memory, before your hands wrapped around his cock, which was standing to full attention through the undone zip of his jeans. He was what must have been unbearably hard, if you’d have had light to see, you had no doubt the head of his cock would be purple, straining with need. You pushed his jeans further down, recruiting your feet to push them down over his ass. Your hands roamed down to squeeze at the bountiful offering of meaty flesh. 

He chuckled as you pinched his cheek, before lifting his knees one at a time and kicking his jeans off of the bed and before you knew it he was lining himself up, brushing the head of his cock through your wet folds. Despite his groan at the contact, he had the discipline to check a final time. “This is what you want, Y/N?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you pushed his hand away from his cock, and pushed it towards your hole. You pushed your hips up against him in lieu of an answer, welcoming the head of his cock inside you. Even though all you could manage was shallow entry, the feel of him inside of you was glorious. 

 His hands, those talented, glorious hands found your own, wrapping his significantly larger ones around yours above your head. He pushed forward with one strong thrust of those lithe hips and he buried himself balls deep inside of you, rooted so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix. He was everywhere, he was plundering every inch of you as his body surrounded your own, heat built between the two of you as sweat began coating both of your bodies. 

Every thrust brought you closer to your second peak, turning your head you couldn’t resist trying to get him to claim your mouth too. Though you couldn’t quite reach far enough to make contact, as if reading your mind Javier bent his elbow pushing his torso forward, coincidently pounding deeper into your body as your lips joined in a messy kiss.  He was fucking into you slow and deep, his tongue began following the rhythm of his cock as he claimed every single part of you as his own. 

The pace was brutally slow, just enough to get you to that edge and keep you on it, you could barely speak. You felt like you were drowning in Javier and every time you came up for air he bottomed out, meeting your hips with his own and the wave of pleasure cut off the oxygen all over again.

“Please… Javi…”

“W-what do you want Sunshine?” He panted out continuing with his slow tempo.

“Faster...please... God.” He ignored your cry for speed and continued fucking you into the matress at his own pace, though his thrusts were just as slow but they were harder. His hips hit against your own, as he put all of his power behind them, getting as deep as he could. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was trying to tunnel through to your womb. You clenched at the thought as he fucked you deep and hard. 

“... Javi…” You cried his name, a desperate plea as he kept you suspended over your peak, refusing to let you free fall. Finally he huffed, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

“You want me to fuck you properly, huh, Guapa?” He began thrusting into you at an arduous pace, the room was filled with your cries, his grunts and slapping of your connecting skin. Those telling black spots were clouding your vision, your second orgasm of the evening was fast approaching. Once again you clenched down on Javi’s thick cock. 

“I’m gonna’ come.” His hand lowered and began rubbing at your clit, not pausing for a moment as he fucked you thoroughly. 

“ven por mí...ven sobre mi polla… fuckin’ Sunshine, fucking taking my cock…. buena niña, podría follarte todo el día.” The second he lost his brain and began muttering in Spanish was the moment you were gone. You came for the second time as he was relentlessly hammering into you, drawing your orgasm from you. Your whole body braced against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down around his cock, milking him tightly.

“Fuck!” He growled at the tightness surrounding him. 

After a few moments he pulled out, quickly grabbing your and flipping you onto your stomach, after placing a pillow under your hips. He then buried himself back inside of you to the hilt his groans mixing with your own at the sensation. He kept up the pace he had before but this time the angle was deeper as he forced your legs together with his thighs. 

Javi’s hands grabbed at your ass (perhaps he was an ass man after all) slapping the meaty flesh which resided there and then instantly kneaded the tissue he’d just abused. His hands rose to carresse the skin of your hips before he took a punishing grip on them and began fucking you in earnest. Javier taking his pleasure from your body whilst you lay a drooling mess from the orgasm he’d already gave you was an image you didn’t know would turn you on, but it made you clench around his shaft as it plundered your depths. 

He began speaking again, though they were lost in a mix of Spanish and English, so much so you couldn’t differentiate. His pace was relentless and finally you felt him begin to shake as he gasped above you

“¿dónde?...w...where?”

“Come inside me, Javi.” He groaned at words and continued pounding until his hips stuttered and he brought it home and buried himself deep inside, filling you to the brim with his seed.  

The two of you lay there breathing heavy trying hard to get your breath back, half of his weight on top of you and the other half resting on the mattress.His cock was slowly going soft inside of you, yet you felt no urgency to move.

“So much for scouts honor, huh?” You ask from behind a veil of hair, turning your face which had been buried in the mattress moments before. Your voice is hoarse; completely wrecked much like the rest of you. 

He’s silent for a moment of consideration, before he leans forward in the moonlight and pushes your hair from your face. The action makes his cock shift inside of you and a little of his release spills out onto your thighs. He continues anyway and places a soft kiss on your lips before whispering “... I was never a boy scout, cariño.”

TAGLIST - Leave a message if you’d like to be added homies.

@drinkingwhileblogging @va-guardianhathaway  @jedi-jesi @obsessivelysearching @cannedsoupsucks @wantingtobekorra @littlemissoblivious @linnie0119 @pascalesque @pedrosmustache @sir-lili @obsessivelysearching @fairytale07

A/N: Fuck me that was the steamest shit I’ve ever written. This was especially for @drinkingwhileblogging and her turquoise titties, hope this makes up for me blue balling you all. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In the Neighbourhood

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, very lightly edited

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After your grandmother breaks her hip, you volunteer to look after her as she recovers but her neighbour is a bit too friendly.

Note: @lokislastlove​ thinks I won’t call her out anymore but I’m calling her out and you should too. Always blame her.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your grandmother’s house never changed. Nestled between two larger homes and with grass as green as the next, it was as perfect as any along the suburban sprawl. Inside, the same framed pictures of your mother and your aunt and uncle, those of you, your siblings, and your cousins, and family members you only saw at reunions. All of them far away. All of them keeping her company only in the still images. None of them coming to care for her; none but you.

You didn’t mind so much. With two degrees under your belt, you were ready to start your novel as you pondered a third. Your online transcription job was easy enough to travel with and you loved your grandmother. The least you could do was help her out in her recovery. A broken hip but otherwise okay. She couldn’t do much from her wheelchair and you feared a worse injury if she tried.

You moved in on a Sunday. The family next door, the Barbers, were the perfect picture of a suburban clan. Andy introduced himself and his wife, Laurie, and their quiet son, Jacob. Then they asked if your grandmother, Lucille, was coming to their barbecue that afternoon and invited you along with her. Your grandmother confirmed that she didn’t want to miss out on Laurie’s potato salad because she’d tripped on a rug.

So you wheeled her over, careful as the grass slowed the chair, and you angled her through the open gate. You seemed to be the last to arrive. The air smelled of searing beef and swirled with the buzz of voices. You stood behind your grandmother’s chair as you looked around nervously and a plump woman with short curly white hair approached.

“Darla!” You grandmother greeted. “You’re back from your little getaway.”

“Arn was keen to come home,” The woman smiled up at you and back to your grandmother. “I heard you had a bit of an incident.”

“Oh, still spry, but the damn doctor has me ‘takin’ it easy’,” You grandma sneered. “I’ll be up at it before long. This is my granddaughter, you remember her, don’t you?”

“I do,” Darla smiled though you barely remembered her. “So sweet of you to come down to look after our Lucille.”

“It’s nothing,” You said. “I owe her. I spent too many holidays on campus.”

“That you did,” Your grandmother chided. “But do go on and socialise, dear. There must be someone here your own age. Or closer to. You can’t be lettin’ yourself get caught up with us old biddies.”

“I’m fine,” You chuckled. “Really.”

“You go. Get something to drink.” You grandmother snapped her fingers. “Mingle!”

You huffed but left her with Darla and another woman, you were certain her name was Betty, passed you on her way to join them. You looked around. The wives were in their clusters and the men drank from brown bottles as they laughed and talked about sports. You didn’t know about children or baseball. 

You went to the end of the table, just by the barbecue, a cooler open and waited as a young boy claimed a can of Orange Crush. You reached inside and took out a grape soda. The lid of the barbecue closed and you turned to face its master; Andy smiled as you blinked at him.

“That’s the kid’s cooler,” He said. “There’s a mini fridge in the garage if you want something stronger.”

“I’m good with this,” You cracked the can. 

“I thought you were a college girl,” He said as he set down his long spatula.

“Graduated.” You assured him. “Never was big on the scene though.”

“Really?” He lifted a brow. “I kinda miss it.” He stepped around the barbecue, closer to you. “It was a while ago now but it was fun. You know,” He put his hands on his hips as he looked across the yard. “I was in a frat with Carson over there,” He nodded to skinny man holding a bottle of water amid the sea of brown glass. “We got in quite a bit of trouble. Maybe I wrote a few of my exams drunk but didn’t do much harm.”

“Oh yeah?” You said dully. “What do you do now?”

“Law. Assistant district attorney.” He preened. “But don’t worry, I can still have fun.”

He winked and you squinted at him. He was an old man trying to relate to a youth. There was what, ten, fifteen years between you? Wasn’t that much, really, and yet it was.

“Legal fun,” You suggested.

“Well, the immoral isn’t always illegal,” He mused. “So… Miss Graduate, you have a job lined up?”

“I work online for now but I’m writing, too.” You shrugged. “Nothing fancy but it’ll do for the time being. Until my grandma’s better.”

“That’s a nice thing you’re doing,” He said. “You know, not a lot of people I know my age would drop everything to go care for family.”

“Least I can do,” You sipped from the can. “She always did make the best lemon meringue. It has its perks.”

He chuckled and backed up as he grabbed the spatula again and opened the barbecue.

“Offer stands,” He called over the smoke. “Beer’s in the garage.”

“Thanks,” You smiled and slowly walked away. This was like that party you’d spent hiding on the porch; awkward as hell.

🏡

The first two weeks passed swiftly. You woke up, made breakfast for your grandmother, her usual oatmeal and tea, then you spent a few hours working online, then lunch, an hour of writing, a walk through the neighbourhood, some alone time, dinner, and then some nightly crime dramas with your grandmother. Each day was identical to the last and you felt the vaunted slog of suburban life.

It was Saturday. You needed to get out. Your grandmother even encouraged it. A few hours at the bar, drinking, dancing, you returned with a guy, Gabe, you met there, hushing him as you snuck him in the front door. 

The house was dark as you climbed the stairs carefully and ushered Gabe into your bedroom. You closed the door and grabbed him as you stumbled to the bed. It was messy, hurried, and desperate. Entirely regrettable as you laid staring out the window at the sky after. You didn’t have time to ask him to leave before he started snoring.

You slept for a few hours and woke as the sun began to rise. You poked the stranger you knew as Gabe until he woke up and you threw his clothes at him before you dressed. You peeked into the hall and waved him out behind you. You led him down the stairs and to the front door. He left you with some empty nicety and you hid your wince. It wasn’t your first one night stand but it was definitely the worst.

“Fun night?” You turned as Andy descended the steps of his porch and opened his car door.

“You work on Sundays?” You grumbled. You hoped he hadn’t seen your regret walking away.

“Not usually but I got some hours to make up.” He dropped his briefcase in the back seat and closed the door. “I know that guy. Pretty sure he’s still on probation for the molly he was dealing at the mechanics.”

“Ugh, no.” You covered your face. “You saw?”

“I got a bit curious as I was finishing my coffee.” He pointed to the window with lacy curtains. “Great view just above the sink.”

“So you’re one of those neighbours?” You crossed your arms.

“I seem nosy but really I’m just looking out for you.” He opened the driver’s side door and planted his hand on the roof of the car. “Look, you don’t know the people around here. I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I won’t be seeing him again.” You retreated to the door and stopped there. “Boring, to say the least.”

“Heh,” Andy scoffed. “Really?”

“Not that it’s any of your business.” You rolled your eyes and stepped inside, closing the door with a snap. You went to the bottom of the stairs and looked up. “Hey, grandma,” You called as you began to climb. “You ready to get up?”

🏡

At the end of the next week, you took your grandmother to her check up. Her recovery was on track but she had a long way to go. The doctor was optimistic that at her next appointment, she’d be ready to use her walker more often.

As you helped her out of the car and got her settled in her chair, you ignored the roar of the mower in the next yard. You’d seen Andy as you drove up. He was pushing the machine back and forth across his already perfectly manicured yard; shirtless. As you turned to push your grandmother up the walk, you couldn’t help but notice that he was in great shape for his age. For any age, really.

“Hey,” He yelled over the motor and shut it down. “How’s it going, ladies?”

“Andy,” Your grandmother chimed. “Great! Doc says I’m doing well.”

“Mmhmm,” You mumbled, still slightly embarrassed over your last interaction with the man.

“Well, seeing as I’m already out here and you already had such a busy day, I could do your lawn while I’m at it?” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and you quickly tore your eyes away from his chest. 

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” Your grandma giggled. “It’s so hot out here.”

“I don’t mind,” He insisted. “Laurie’s gone to see her parents with Jacob so I’m just trying to keep myself busy.”

“Twist my arm, why don’t ya?” Your grandmother shook her hand. “Fine! Sweetie,” She reached back and tapped your hand. “Let’s go make some lemonade for this young man so he doesn’t overheat.”

Andy smiled and you nodded at him awkwardly. You wheeled your grandmother up the newly installed ramp and inside. She ordered you to the kitchen and directed you to the lemons hidden in the crisper.

“The juicer is just under there.” She pointed to the cupboard, “And you’ll want to add some sugar.”

“I know how to make lemonade, grandma,” You said as you pulled out the pitcher.

“That Andy’s a nice man,” She said. “So helpful… handsome too. It’s too bad you’re so young… and he’s so married.”

“Stop,” You warned. “You said the same thing about your doctor.”

“Yes, but he’s a doctor. He’s rich.” She snickered. “And not married, just not into your type.”

“Grandma,” You snipped. “Really.”

“I don’t know how your mother ended up with you.” She said. “She was such a little troublemaker.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard,” You said as you washed the lemon juice from your hands and added water and sugar to the pitcher. “I think her stories were more a warning.”

“Too smart for your own good,” She tutted as you mixed the lemonade.

You went to the cupboard and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer as you set a glass on the counter. You poured the lemonade and gave her a sour look. 

“You think you can look after yourself for a few minutes?” You asked dryly.

“Girlie, I was taking care of you while you were in diapers,” She narrowed her eyes.

“Oh, how the tables have turned.”

“I don’t wear diapers,” She hissed as you neared the door. “Yet.”

You went out the front door as Andy pushed the mower across the yard just along the walkway. He stopped and looked over at you. He shut down the motor again and neared you as you came down the steps to hold out the glass. He thanked you and took a big gulp before he handed it back.

“You know, I didn’t mean anything,” He said. “The other day. Sometimes… I say stuff without thinking.”

“It’s… whatever.” You shrugged and set the glass on the rail of the porch. “No hard feelings.”

“I just got a hot tub. Just gotta hook it up and it’s ready to go.” He said. “You should stop by later. Get a soak in.”

“No, I don’t think so.” You stood at the top of the steps. “I don’t wanna leave grandma all alone. She wants to watch Casablanca tonight. I promised we would.”

“Maybe another night.” He offered. “You work so hard. You deserve a break.”

“Maybe,” You said evasively as you turned and crossed the porch. You glanced back as you opened the door and he was still looking at you.

“Lemonade’s good.” He smiled. “Thanks.”

🏡

You finished lunch and left your grandmother to her puzzle at the dining room table. You went upstairs to change the shirt you’d spilled mustard down; it was all you could smell. You tore off your shirt and tossed it on the bed. You rounded the bed to the dresser that sat just below the window and opened the draw. Movement caught your eye and you looked up across the space between yards.

Andy’s eyes met yours through the windows. You’d never realised they were adjacent, let alone so easy to see through. He wore a towel around his waist, freshly showered and his gaze strayed for just a moment. You blanched and pulled out a shirt and covered yourself with it. He smirked and tilted his head. Then he winked and a shiver went through you.

You grabbed the curtain and closed it so forcefully you nearly bent the rod. You backed away and put the shirt on properly. Surely, he was being funny. A tense, awkward moment. What else could he do but make a joke? Well, it wasn’t a very good one.

🏡

You stayed inside for the better part of a week. Aside from your walks with your grandmother and a trip to the grocery store, you kept your curtains closed, and hid yourself away. Maybe you’d built it up in your mind but you were just set off-kilter by the wordless interaction. Since, you felt as though you’d been walking a tightrope, too afraid to look down.

But that night, your grandmother wanted to sit outside. It was warm and the nights were shorter; later. You wheeled her out, a book on her lap, and as you made to skirt back inside, he appeared. Andy had impeccable timing. It made you wonder if he was watching you; if he had been for much longer than you knew. Well, now you were just being paranoid.

“Hey,” He stood at the edge of the yard. “Beautiful night.”

“Sure is,” You grandma replied. “I’ve got a new book and I’m ready to enjoy the breeze.”

“Oh, a new book? What’s it about?” He asked as he neared tentatively.

“Another scary one.” She cracked the cover. “Or so I hear. Skinwalkers taking over a whole city.”

“Ah, spooky,” He commented and looked at you. “And you?”

“Writing. Inside.” You said evenly.

“I figured since it was so nice, I was finally gonna try out my new Jacuzzi,” He said. “I just… I did promise you a soak so I thought maybe--”

“Eh, I don’t know.” You neared the door. “I really should try to get some writing done.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Your grandmother intoned. “You’ve been on that computer all day. You should go, relax.”

“Really, I--”

“Laurie might join us. She’s inside doing some work.” He piped up. “She wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Go on! I’m getting sick of ya anyway,” Your grandmother snorted. “You could stand to loosen up.”

“Grandma,” You huffed.

“Go get changed,” She ordered and smiled at Andy. “She’ll be over shortly.”

You blinked and tried to hide your irritation. You went inside before Andy could notice and you stormed upstairs. You weren’t even sure you’d packed a suit. You searched through the dresser. The curtains were still drawn tight. You found your old pink bikini with the white flowers. Really? It had to be that one?

You changed, reluctantly. It couldn’t have covered less of you. You found a tee shirt and pulled it over. You descended the stairs again and stepped out on the porch.

“Thanks for that, grandma.” You scowled.

“I can see why you were never popular,” She laughed. “Go. Have fun. This old lady can handle herself.”

You stomped down the steps beside the ramp and stopped at the border of the yards. You sighed and went to the gate, it was open in expectation of you. You heard the whir of jets before you entered. Andy was just beside the hot tub, testing the temperature with his hand as you stood across from him. He looked up and gave a crooked smirk.

“Andy,” The back door opened and Laurie appeared. “Oh, hey.” She smiled at you before turning back to her husband. “I’m gonna pass. Gina’s not going to make it in tomorrow so looks like I’ll be up all night.”

“Damn, that’s too bad,” Andy said. “More tub for us I guess.”

“Yes, love you too,” She said dryly. “You enjoy yourself. And don’t leave that thing on all night.”

“Yes, honey,” He said before she shut the door. “Love you.”

You swallowed. Your mouth was dry. Maybe you had been a bit presumptuous. Andy climbed into the jacuzzi and lowered himself into the warm water with a sigh. You hesitated to get closer but you did. He watched you, expectantly. You grabbed the edge and tried to will yourself in.

“You’re wearing that?” He nodded to your tee.

“Yeah,” You lifted your leg over the side.

“You don’t gotta be shy,” He grinned.

You paused and frowned at him.

“I’m joking,” He said. “The other day. That was… funny. Bad timing.”

“Mhmm,” You drew your other leg over and carefully sat.

“You met any more cute guys?” He asked suddenly. You squinted.

“What?” 

“Not much to do around here, you know? Pretty boring.”

“No. I don’t--” You sputtered. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea. Once my grandma’s better, I’ll be going.”

“Still, it’s lonely.” He said softly. 

“What do you care?” You asked, harsher than intended. 

He was quiet. He leaned back and looked over at the house then back to you. He exhaled and spread his arms over the edge.

“So… that toy you hide in your night table? You always use it or you ever just… feel yourself?”

Your heart sank. You felt as if you would choke on air. Had you imagined his words?

“What did you just--”

“Took you long enough to catch on,” He said. “Got a good view of you when I can’t sleep but… not anymore. Too bad.”

“Andy,” You stood and the water splashed around you. “You-- You’re-- Laurie, she--”

“I haven’t fucked her in months. This is what she does.” He sat forward and caught your hand. “She works. All the time. I try and she… just doesn’t want to.”

“Let me go.” You struggled with him. “You’re disgusting. You’re married!”

“Me? Fucking awful some young girl strolls into town and tries to seduce a married man? What would grandma think? And Laurie? She’s not one to sit back and be humiliated.” He tugged on you. “I have a reputation around here. You’re just a stranger, and apparently one, who fucks strangers.”

“What are you talking about?” You nearly slipped as he spun you back to him. “You’ve been watching me and--”

“I’m just a neighbour looking out for you,” He pulled even harder and your feet slid across the bottom of the jacuzzi, forcing you to catch yourself on him. “Like I do all my neighbours. They would confirm as much.”

“Get--” You grabbed his arm as it snaked around you. “Andy! Laurie--”

“Doesn’t give a fuck and if she came out, well, she’d only realise what’s she’s pushed me to.” 

You wriggled as he held you to him. He drew your leg over his so that you straddled his lap. You pushed on his chest and grunted.

“You keep it up and everyone will hear. Even sweet old nana.” He snarled. “I saw you looking at me that day… when you brought me lemonade.”

“No, no,” You rasped.

“I’m old, not that old,” He purred. “As you can obviously see.”

“Let me go. Please.” You begged. He was too strong and your arms only ached from pushing against him. “Andy--”

“Shhh,” He grabbed your chin with his wet hand and pulled you close until your lips almost met his. “In this town, rumours travel. It might be old news that you left a bar with that dumb kid but now, it’s evidence.” His hand slipped down your neck and squeezed. “Such a bad girl.”

“No one would--”

“They have no reason not to believe me,” He rolled up your wet shirt with his other hand. “Annie across the street, she likes gossip. She’s seen you flirting with me, at least that’s how she told it to Laurie but you know, my wife just laughs it off. And now she’s no doubt seen you come into my backyard in just this.” He pulled your shirt higher. “And her mind is going wild.”

“I can’t--”

“How long did he last? A minute? Less?” He snarled and his other hand slipped down to draw your shirt up. You kept your arms down as you tried to resist. “Bet you could wait to use your little toy.”

“Stop,” You pleaded.

“Get your arms up.” His voice was deep and dangerous. “And stop your whining.”

You stopped and stared at him. His blue eyes burned into yours and sent a shiver through you. His fingertips pinched your hips as they crawled under your shirt and he pushed it higher.

“You don’t shut up and someone will hear, sweetie,” He warned. “Up.”

He tugged until you raised your arms. A wave of bile rose in your chest and you let him peel away your wet shirt and reveal the skimpy bikini beneath. He dropped the cotton over the side of the tub and his hands grazed the triangles of your top.

“Cute,” He hummed. “You hiding this from me?”

You were quiet, sickened. With him, with yourself. You knew you couldn’t fight, wouldn’t. You remembered the barbecue and how you’d been the odd one out. Recalled how Andy had talked to almost every person there. Everyone loved him and no one knew you.

“Mmm mm mm,” His fingertips walked around your neck and he picked at the knot behind your neck. The straps loosened and he let your top fall and expose your chest. 

He bent to bury his face against you and nibbled along your tits. You looked, startled, to the back door. It was still shut. A light glow from a bedroom above and the distant beat of music escaped through the slightly opened bedroom window. Another light died on the first floor and was replaced by a second on the top floor, reflecting against yours on the other side. 

You quivered as Andy took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. You felt it in your core as his hand cupped your other tit. He reached beneath you and played with the edge of your bottom. He drew you back as he leaned against the side of the tub and lifted his pelvis, and you with him. He tugged on his shorts and sat back down.

You felt hollow and a cloud of panic filled your stomach. You struggled against you and he bit you. You squeaked as his teeth threatened to break the skin and stilled. He parted and looked up at you.

“Be a good girl,” He felt beneath you and began to stroke himself.

“Please--”

“Shhh,” He turned his hand and hooked his fingers in your bottoms, pulling them aside. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He rubbed his tip against your folds. “It’ll be good.” He drew you to him and angled you over his dick. “Better than ever before.”

He forced you down and your lips formed an o as he entered you. You latched onto his shoulders without thinking and he pushed you to his limit. His lips and teeth returned to your chest as he once more began to toy with you. You quivered as he began to rock your hips.

The water swished around you, swirling and slapping against your skin. You held your breath as you tried not to cry out. You hissed as you dug your nails into his shoulders and let him guide you. Despite yourself, despite everything, it felt good. It felt wonderful. He was right and you were weak.

“You like that?” He nuzzled your throat. “Is this what you think of at night, huh?”

You bit your lip as he kneaded your hips and kept your moving.

“I think of it all the time,” He muttered. “All the time. Maybe…” His breath caught and he groaned. “Maybe I could offer to take you grocery shopping, hmm? We could have some fun in the car…”

“Andy…” You whimpered. “No, we can’t-- not again…”

You grasped his wrists and tried to push yourself off of him. A semblance of sanity returned to you as you looked him in the face. His eyes were dilated and dusky. He was entranced; incorrigible. You struggled as he held you down.

“This is wrong--”

He shoved you off him as his lip curled. You stumbled back and caught yourself on the other side of the tub. The water splashed as he stood behind you and grabbed your arm. He turned you over and pushed you over the siding, a jet blowing against your pelvis.

“Doesn’t feel wrong to me.” He growled.

He held you down with a large hand between your shoulders as he pushed your legs apart with his knee. He pressed against you and searched for your entrance, swiftly impaling you. You choked down a mewl as your hips crashed into the wall of the tub. He leaned his weight on you entirely as he rutted into you without relent. You were certain someone would hear the clapping of flesh or the stir of water all around.

“You’ll do what I want, when I want,” He sneered. “And from what I can tell, you’ll like it.”

“Andy--” Your voice fizzled as the pressure mixed with the steady stream of the jet as it hit your cunt. 

You held in a moan as you hung over the side of the tub, the blood pounding in your head as you panted wildly. You covered your mouth, afraid you would cry out as the coil inside you twisted and twisted. Your legs quaked as you orgasmed.

Andy’s hand gripped your hips and he pulled you back against him, again and again, using your body easily. You slid back and forth over the side and he bent over you, crushing you against the tub. He growled in your ear and his thrust jolted your body.

He pulled out suddenly, still looming over you as he stroked himself against your bikini and pressed his damp beard to your cheek as he shuddered. His hot cum spilled out onto the wet fabric and dripped down your thigh as he eased himself through his climax. He sighed and pushed himself from atop you, falling back into the water heavily.

You stayed as you were for a moment. Stunned. Shakily you stood and fixed your top and pulled your bottom straight. You couldn’t look at him. You climbed out of the tub and walked unsteadily across the grass.

“Ah, that was relaxing,” He said. “Come back anytime.”

You ignored him and continued onto the gate.

“Oh, and it’s supposed to be a cool night,” He called after you. “You should keep your window open.”

You slipped through and the gate creaked behind you and closed with a metallic click. You shivered as you kept to the side of your grandma’s house and entered through the back. You didn’t want anyone to see; you were certain they would know if they did.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

daddy jaehyun

iv.xlviii. Jaehyun’s working day (a)

a/n: Hey, I’m back. After a break I feel now better to write again and let me say one thing I MISSED YOU GUYS ❤ the last weeks were pretty hard for me and I no room in my head to write. But now I had a new idea and I want to be back. And I’m also thinking about to make a discord channel to talk with you guys about the story and other Jaehyun things (for example his dramas). What do you think about it? ❤

4 am For Jaehyun, work was on his plan and the filming for the new drama started again. He always had to leave early and didn't come home until very late. In the morning the twins were still with you because you had to breastfeed Kiwoo. Most of the time you pick them up at 4 a.m. and they were with you for a while. Jaehyun especially enjoyed this time. Kiwoo was on his chest and he knew he had to go. Every time it was a struggle for him to leave the house. He wanted to put his youngest son with you very slowly but he immediately began to cry. Kiwoo already knew that his father would go and he knew that he would not see him for a very long time. "Don't cry, I'll try to be back soon." He knew it was a lie. The work took longer and longer and he felt guilty. "Kiwoo please ..." When he took the boy back to himself, he calmed down again. Jaehyun was torn, he was already too late for work. But as soon as he moved away from his son, Kiwoo began to cry again. At some point you notice this back and forth and you turn to him sleepily. "Hey, give him to me." You stretch out your arms and lay your boy on your chest. Kiwoo was now calm again and looked at you excitedly. "Thank you. I love you," he said, kissed you and quickly left the house.

6 am It was really difficult for Jaehyun to work without his children. He hated being gone for so long and had the guilty conscience of failing as a father. "Hey, are you okay?", Minu, his co-actress, asked him and smiled gently. She noticed that he was absent and could hardly be spoken to. "Yeah .... Kiwoo just lies with me every morning and he cries every time I leave him .... It's really not easy every morning right now." Jaehyun sighed and took a sip of his coffee. "Kiwoo is your youngest son, isn't he?" She asked and Jaehyun nodded. "Yeah, actually it's Geon, but they are twins. Kiwoo came first, half an hour later Geon." He had to smile when he thought of the time when they were so little. They were so tiny and looked so inhuman when they were born. Still, they had grown so well and he always wondered how these two boys had room in your belly. "Wow, your wife must have done a lot," said Minu and smiled. "Yes, she really gave everything with all of our children." It hit Jaehyun even more that he cannot be with you. The weather was so nice and he would have loved to go out with Miga and Sunoh and they could have romped around at the playground. "I would really like to get to know her and your family," Minu says, but Jaehyun didn't find the idea that exciting. "Minu, that's not personal, but we're playing a couple in the drama and my wife doesn't think it's great that we kiss several times. I really want to separate my professional and private life." Jaehyun looked at her a little worried, but Minu nodded. "No problem, is understandable." But she got up immediately and left the room.

9 am During his first break, Jaehyun called you right away. He wanted to know whether Kiwoo was happy again and whether everyone else was fine. "We're having breakfast," you say, and put the iPad on the table so that Jaehyun could see everyone on video. "Mummyyyyy .... juice!" Sunoh stretched out his arms and you got him something to drink. "What do we say when we want something?" You look at your son admonishingly. "Pleaseeeeee." Sunoh's eyes widened and Jaehyun had to laugh. He was happy, if only digitally, to be a part of it. "Have you already filmed?" You ask him and now sit down at the table. "No, I was only in the mask so far. I'll wait that they call me." Jaehyun glanced to the side and made sure that he still had time. "Dada?" Geon suddenly looked up at you, recognizing his father's voice. "Yes! There is Dada!" You point to the screen where Jaehyun waved. "Good morning Geon." When the boy heard his father's voice, he began to squeak with joy. "Yes, you are happy." You brush his hair aside and smile. "And how is Kiwoo doing?" Jaehyun still felt guilty from the morning. "Kiwoo is fine. He's taking a nap. Don't worry." You knew he was sad because Jaehyun struggled with it every morning. "I just want to be with you." Jaehyun was really sad because he knew that there would be a few more days of shooting. "You'll be back with us very soon. We can do it." You also try to be positive, even if it was difficult for you too. "Jaehyun, you have to get to the set now." One of the staff came into his room and Jaehyun had to leave. "Okay, I have to work. I love you all," he said quickly before hanging up.

12 am Jaehyun didn't like the scene he was supposed to play today. It was a romantic scene where he and Minu were comfortably sitting on the couch, arm in arm. But it felt so wrong that the woman in his arms and chest wasn't you. "Yes, because I love you," Jaehyun acted, trying his best, but the team wasn't happy. "What's going on today? Jaehyun, every potato could show more love than you do today," said the director and sighed. "I know, I know ... let's do it again." Jaehyun sat up and put his arm around Minu again. She snuggled up against him and he was amazed at how well she was acting because it felt so real with her. "Yes, because I love you." He looked down at her and she looked at him with wide eyes. "Yes?" "Yes!" He stared at her and her face slowly came closer. It wasn't a kissing scene yet, he knew that, but he already felt like he was cheating on you. "Am I bothering you with something?" The third actress was added, who played Minu's roommate. "And CUT!" The director then shouted and rolled his eyes. "Jaehyun! That was a disaster. With music and light we can still manage it, but I hope the next scenes will be better." Jaehyun felt bad on both sides now. "I'm sorry. I'll do better." He bowed his head and hoped the day would pass quickly.

3 pm When Jaehyun later looked at his phone, he saw a few photos Miga sent him from your phone. He had to laugh because Miga was having a lot of fun with her brothers and he also knew that you must be angry that she wasn't doing her homework. "The twins already look so big," said the hairdresser, who often accompanied Jaehyun for shows or dramas. "Yes, I can watch them grow." Jaehyun laughed and looked at the photos. "When my son was born, it seemed to me that every time I slept, he just grew two inches." The hairdresser smiled and showed then also a photo of her son. But before Jaehyun could say anything, Minu came in. "Hey Jaehyun." She sat down on the table in front of him and grinned. "Hi Minu, is there anything?", Jaehyun asked surprised, but she shook her head. "No, I'm on break right now." She grinned and slowly rocked her legs. "Oh ... okay. Have you already eaten?", He asked surprised and Minu started to giggle. "You care about me! Yes, I've already eaten." Jaehyun was a bit surprised by her statement and her suddenly childlike behavior, so that he was quite embarrassed. "Um ... very good ..." he stuttered, but the hairdresser can no longer listen to it. "I have to blow dry Mr. Jung now." And before Minu could say anything, she switched on the loud hair dryer. Minu looked at her in surprise and waited a little longer, but the hairdresser took her time, so that Jaehyun's scalp burned a little. At some point Minu understood that it would take even longer and left the room again. "I know, I'll be the last to say that ..." The hairdresser switched off the hairdryer and gave Jaehyun a serious look. "But this girl is the devil." She sighed and hoped she had no regrets. "What?" Asked Jaehyun and was quite surprised. "Just that she's not that nice otherwise ..." She pressed her lips together and then quickly ran away.

8pm When Jaehyun looked at his phone, he saw that Sunoh and Miga had already wished him good night. He had missed their calls again because the filming had taken much longer. His feelings of guilt grew to infinity and he didn't know how long he could endure it. He packed his things and hoped that he would make it home in time, that he could at least talk to you a little longer. "Jaehyun." Minu suddenly jumped in front of him and grinned. Jaehyun was just tired and wanted to go home. He didn't mean to be rude, but Minu was particularly stressful today. "Minu?" He asked surprised and held his car key tight. "Me and some of the grew going to have another drink. Would you like to come with us?" "I'm sorry, I'm hardly home and I have to drive home for at least an hour." "You can sleep at my place. I have a guest room", she suggested and Jaehyun stroked his forehead. "Minu, I'm really sorry. But I have babies at home who don't have a sleep schedule and a woman I would still like to see, unfortunately I don't have time for that." Jaehyun sounded stricter than expected, but he was tired, stressed, and plagued with guilt. "I'm ... so-so sorry." Her eyes were glassy and she looked like she was about to cry. "Minu ... it wasn't meant badly. The day was hard today ... I'm sorry ..." Jaehyun tried to clarify everything, because he didn't need any stress at work either. "No, I'm sorry. Have a nice evening with your wife." She then suddenly smiled and then turned around. Jaehyun was totally surprised for a moment, but he didn't want to waste any more thought. He got into his car and drove off.

10 pm You sleep already, but only lightly because you could never sleep well if Jaehyun was not with you. The TV light was still flickering because you needed some kind of noise that was in the background. But then the door opened and Jaehyun finally came to you. "I'm sorry I was so late. It was a construction site on the freeway and then a traffic jam ... I'll take another route tomorrow." He looked at you sadly, but you don't say anything and just kiss him. You were just happy to have him with you, to feel him, to smell him. You hug him as tightly as you could and never wanted to let go of him. "I missed you so much ..." he mumbled into your neck. But something about his voice worried you. You look at him and see how his eyes were red and glassy. "Jaehyun ... is everything okay?", You ask him worried and stroke his cheek. "No ..." He bowed his head because he didn't want you to see him like that. He didn't want you to have to worry about him too. "Jaehyun ... I can see that you are not doing well." But the few hours that he had with you he didn't want to talk to you about all of this. "Can we just lie there and just cuddle?" He asked, looking at you with puppy eyes. You weren't sure because you don't want him to suppress his feelings. But he looked so exhausted and talking about his feelings can be very exhausting. "Okay ..." you say gently and stroke his back.

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[seaweedbrain404]

Wolfstar Au! : Parties and Morning Regrets

read it on ao3

pt2

Parties weren’t exactly Remus’ scene. It’s not that he hated the loud noise, smelly sweaty drunk people who constantly bumped into him or the inevitable hangover he would be most certainly having the next day. Except, he did hate all of those things, so why was he there?

The answer was simple: Lily Evans. Aka his best friend and flatmate. She had wanted to go, Remus couldn’t remember why. Maybe it was for a birthday? or a promotion? He couldn’t recall. Although that might’ve been the effects of the copious amounts of alcohol he had managed to consume in the past few hours. Remus wasn’t a light weight by any means so it really was copious amounts.

Drunk and a little annoyed because Lily had ditched him at some point and now he couldn’t find her, Remus made his way to the corner of the room where he could hopefully be left alone. He’d also have to keep an eye out for her, in case she needed help or in case she wanted to leave. He doubted any of those things, vaguely remembering that Lily wanted to go to the party to get laid. Which was fair.

Remus was propped up against the wall, drink in hand when it all went downhill. He only just began to entertaining the idea of either finding Lily and telling her he was going him or getting laid himself. He preferred the latter but didn’t have much of a say in it when someone came up next to him.

“Remus Lupin?”

Remus’ brain short circuited when he heard the voice. This was proof the universe hated him. As if the accident that happened shortly after he and Lily had moved to New York had been any indication of the universe having it out for him.

“What?” He managed to sound vaguely disinterested as his gaz met the other person’s.

Sirius Black looked the same as he did when they were 17. Same stupid leather jacket and everything. It made Remus want to groan because it was so stupid, he thought he’d left all of this back in England. Clearly he was about to be proven wrong.

Sirius shrunk back at the tone. He wasn’t used to Remus being so cold and bitter. Remus didn’t care though, Sirius had hurt him and he had some nerve coming up to him again.

“Just thought I’d say hi”

“Well, hi”

“Mmm...” Sirius paused for a moment, “how have you been?”

“Grand”

“Oh.... did you get into that school you wanted?” Sirius tried again and Remus almost felt bad for him.

If Remus wasn’t intoxicated, he would’ve told Sirius to go away. Instead he answered the question. “No, got my second choice though”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” Remus didn’t want the pity Sirius was so clearly trying to offer. He had gotten over himself, it was years ago that he got rejected from his first school of choice and his second one was still really good. Then a thought occurred to him, “why are you in New York?”

“Oh!” Sirius seemed surprised by the question, Remus couldn’t blame him. He hadn’t been exactly pleasant up until this point. “Business opportunity for my dad’s firm, he wanted me to check it out and James already lived close enough to here”

Of course, still doing your family’s bidding when we both know you hate it, Remus had to stop himself from saying. Instead, he settled on a nod and took a sip of the drink in his hand.

“What about you?” He asked timidly.

Remus wasn’t used to Sirius being timid. Sirius had always been loud, demanding attention and boisterous. Maybe it was the party or maybe it was seeing Remus after so long that knocked the wind out of him just like it did to Remus. Hence why he was acting like a bit of a dick.

“Lily and I both wanted out”

That was all there was to it. Lily and Remus had been best friends and grew up together in a small town just off the coast of England. It horribly small minded and suffocating. It only got worse when Remus came out. Lily wanted to go to New York to get away from her sister and start a small bakery. For Remus, she was the ideal ticket out of there. He had been hesitant at first, up until he tried to speak to his father for more than ten minutes at a time. Then he was certain he had to leave. His mum wouldn’t have wanted him to stay if he was unhappy and if Lyall couldn’t get his shit together without him, well that wasn’t his problem anymore.

“I don’t blame you” came Sirius’ answer. “Compared to that shithole, New York is a breath of fresh air”

Remus chuckled at that, mood lightening. Was it the alcohol or was it him actually missing Sirius? He’d blame it on the alcohol.

“How is Lily?”

“She’s good, snogging some bloke right now I think” Remus shrugged.

“Good for her” Sirius nodded and Remus swore he could see the other glance down at his lips.

“What are you thinking about?” Remus knew he was asking a very dangerous question but his drunken mind pushed for it.

Clearly, Sirius was drunk enough to look at Remus and smile and as he said, “kissing you”

“Then do it”

Remus said this without thinking of the consequences. A very un-Remus thing to do.

Sirius obeyed though, stepping closer and closing the distance between them. Remus forgot what it was like to kiss Sirius. He could taste the alcohol, and the same cigarettes as when they were teenagers. The new taste was coffee, a welcome addition to what Remus already knew and remembered.

He suddenly wondered if anything else was the same. Throwing caution to the wind, Remus gently bit down on Sirius’ lip and in turn, Sirius parted his lips. This allowed Remus to slip his tongue in, his brain short circuiting again.

He pulled away breathless and Sirius grabbed his hand. “Let’s get out of here”

Remus let himself be dragged away from the corner and outside. He didn’t bother asking where until Sirius started hailing a cab. That’s when the alarms bells sounded.

“No! let’s- no not the cab... I’ll- I’ll get sick” This was of course a lie. Remus knew this and if Sirius remembered how good Remus’ drinking health was, then he knew it was a lie too. He didn’t say anything though. Maybe it was the panic in his fear-stricken eyes that made Sirius back down.

Remus felt stupid, not wanting to take the cab but it made perfect sense in his head. One late night coming home from work, he had taken a cab and got in a terrible accident. An accident that left violent scars all over his right side. An accident that made him quit his job and not want to get into a car ever again.

Despite all this, Sirius, bloody Sirius who was always so understanding even while drunk, squeezed Remus’ hand and started walking.

Remus decided he didn’t feel bad for not taking the cab. It wasn’t a long walk to where Sirius was currently staying. It was a nice, fancy and very expensive hotel. He instantly felt out of place.

Sirius didn’t seem to notice though. He also didn’t notice the receptionist giving him a funny look. A look which Remus knew too well and made him feel more than a little insecure. If it wasn’t for the alcohol coursing through his system, he would’ve gone home.

Fortunately, Remus didn’t get the chance to dwell of any of this simply because the second they were in the lift, Sirius was pressing him against the wall. All the kissing made Remus feel a bit dizzy. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been in relationships or had one night stands after Sirius. It was more the fact that it was Sirius.

Somehow (Remus can’t recall the details) they ended up in Sirius’ hotel room. Remus would later regret the events that took place that night for a while.

The next morning, Remus woke up naked and hungry. Not a great combination. He felt a hand draped over his waist, pulling him closer.

“Morning” Came Sirius’ sleepy voice.

Shit

Remus pushed Sirius away, establishing a small distance between them. He was about to go for his phone when it started ringing, this caused Sirius to groan and cover his ears.

Remus pick up, it was Lily. “Hi? what’s up?”

“Remus John Lupin”

“That’s my name?”

“Tonight was my turn”

Right. This meant that she didn’t have the keys to their apartment and that Remus did.

“Sorry”

“Just come home, quickly? You’ll never guess who i slept with last night”

“I’m intrigued”

“Then hurry up! I’m going to be catch pneumonia”

“Alright how does i’m-sorry-for-leaving-you-out-in-the-cold-coffee sound?”

“I suppose I could forgive you” Remus could practically hear the smile in her voice.

“Give me a few minutes, I’m on my way”

“Be safe, love you”

“Love you too”

When Remus hung up and looked over at Sirius, his brain short circuited for the third time since they’d met last night. Sirius Black was beautiful in the morning, he was breathtaking every time of day but he was especially beautiful in the mornings. With his shoulder length black hair, sharp cheekbones, pale skin and grey eyes, he always looked melancholy. Even when he was smiling. Remus supposed there was a sort of tragic look about Sirius that drew a lot of people in. It didn’t help that Remus’ favourite colour used to be grey.

“Who was it?” Sirius’ voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Lily. I should- I really have to go” When Remus said this, Sirius’ face fell.

“Can I drive you home?”

Remus climbed out of bed and stopped, he was in the middle of pulling his jeans back on. “No, it’s not too far, I’ll walk”

Sirius started getting out of bed too. “At least let me walk you then” He walked over to the suitcase and pulled out his own clothes, getting dressed as well.

“Fine but I have to stop for coffee” Remus replied, not being able to come up with a good enough excuse to ditch him. He finished buttoning up his shirt and pulled the sweater he wore last night over his head. It smelled like bad beer and cheap vodka. He was in desperate need of a shower the second he got home.

They walked in silence, from the room to the lift and outside in complete silence until Sirius spoke up again. “How are you?” he asked.

Remus looked at him, a frown quickly taking over his features. He remembered the sincere tone and genuine look in Sirius’ eyes from the time his mum passed away, sometime in fifth year. “You don’t get to ask that”

“Oh... I’m sorry”

“I know you are”

“You’re different” Sirius said, sounding a little uncertain.

“People are allowed to change Sirius” Remus’ tone was cold. He was in no mood for this, he just wanted to get the coffee and get home as quickly as possible.

Sirius soldiered on, as if Remus hadn’t said a thing. “You’re taller.... your hair is longer and curlier, you have plasters all over your fingers and scars, the scars are new”

Remus’ shoulders tensed at that. Who was Sirius to be saying all these things? And more importantly, why was he saying all this. It’s not like Remus didn’t know that he changed since they were 17. It had been years.

“Am I allowed to ask about the scars?”

“I got into an accident”

“How bad was it?”

“No, you’re not allowed to ask that”

“Right” It was clear Sirius was grasping at straws at this point, anything to keep the conversation going. “The plasters?”

“I work in a bakery”

“As if that explains it” Sirius huffed, a lot more Sirius-like than whatever he was like before. That was the Sirius he remembered. “What about me?

“What about you?”

“Have I changed?”

Remus thought for a moment. He wanted to say no, everything about Sirius was the same; he looked the same and his clothes were also the same. Another thing that didn’t change was him clearly being under his parents’ thumb. Yet, there was something about Sirius that was very un-Sirius and Remus couldn’t place what.

“No” He replied, ducking into a coffee shop to avoid the conversation from progressing further.

After buying three coffees, the two men were off again. They walked in silence for about five seconds before Sirius spoke up again.

“Why are you being like this?”

“I don’t know what you mean” Lie. Remus knew exactly what he meant but he refused to acknowledge it. Besides, the walk was starting to do a number on his hip and he had to slow down.

Sirius frowned at him. “Being all.....” he gestured vaguely with his hands, he had never been good with words, despite going to a private boarding school (he and Lily were scholarship students). Remus thought it was ironic, you’d think someone that rich would be at least a little more eloquent.

“You’re being distant”

“No offense but I’m not usually all cuddly and sweet with one night stands, I’m sorry”

Unfortunately it seemed that Sirius had taken offense to being called just a one night stand because he took a sip of his coffee and stuff a hand in his jacket.

“Asshole” Sirius mumbled.

“Sure, I’m the asshole”

Hurt flashed across Sirius’ face. “That’s not fair”

“I didnt say it was”

Sirius scowled even further and Remus just smiled. “I’m trying to be nice, I don’t get why you’re still being so mean”

Remus looked down, suddenly feeling really bad. “Sorry”

“Can we just talk?”

“There’s nothing to talk about” Remus sighed. “You haven’t changed, your parents still dictate your life and by the looks of it, you’ve stopped rebelling”

Now it’s Sirius’ turn to look down. Remus had his a sore spot, that much was clear.

Neither said anything for the rest of the walk, until Remus started limping enough for Sirius to notice.

“Are you okay?” Concern filled his pretty grey eyes.

“I told you- the accident... it’s not too far now, I’ll be okay”

Sirius looked unconvinced but didn’t say anything else. He was probably too scared that Remus would snap at him again.

The silence resumed til they saw Lily, who ran up and pulled Remus into a death grip hug when she saw him, causing him to nearly drop the two coffees he was holding.

“What took so long?” She let go of him, studying his face, “don’t tell me you walked all the way here, you dolt”

“That would be lying though” Remus quipped with a smile.

Lily shook her head. “Idiot” she muttered, taking the coffee cups from Remus as he fished out the keys to let them inside.

Lily’s gaze travelled between Sirius and Remus, silently giving Remus the ‘oh god you slept with him didn’t you’ look. “I’ll go on ahead”

Once Lily disappeared upstairs, Sirius opened his mouth to say something but Remus stopped him with a hand in the air.

“Do you want to come upstairs?” He asked, not sure if he was going to regret this later or not.

Sirius nodded, “Yeah, yeah... if that’s okay with you”

Remus held the door open. He could give this a chance, maybe it wouldn’t end as bad as it did when they were 17. He had changed and maybe, somewhere deeper so had Sirius. For once, Remus let himself hope.

“You wanna know why I stopped rebelling?”

Remus hummed in response.

“I didn’t have anything left to fight for, now I might” with small smile he ducked into the apartment building.

Remus followed in after a moment. Thinking about how this could be finally something good. Maybe the universe doesn’t hate him as much as he thought it did. Maybe the universe was trying to shove him in the right direction again.

[mommymooze]

Dreaming of a Different Day

Reader, Fe3h Characters, Modern AU

Blood, gore, fighting, dead bodies, homework, sweating

7986 words

Working night shift at a gas station isn’t the most glorious job, but it helps pay the bills while you are trying to complete your degree at college. Determined to graduate without getting buried under an insurmountable amount of student debt, you work two jobs, sometimes three, even if it means taking 10 years to get a 4 year degree. Scoring a job in building maintenance for the college certainly helps with getting reduced fees on classes and books. Between two current jobs and classes or study time, there isn’t much time to sleep. Sometimes you volunteer your body as a lab rat for some of the studies done at the university, if you can work them in to your hectic schedule. This time they want to study your brain while you sleep. Getting paid to sleep? Sign me up!

Filling your 32oz. thermal bucket with coffee, you head out to catch a bus to campus. You have about an hour to study before you make it to the appointment at the psychology building.

An alarm sounds on your phone, time to pack up to make it to your appointment on time. Stashing your laptop and books into your backpack you head up the stairs to the third floor. Opening the door, you see a sleepy looking green haired student gathering forms together and stapling them into packets, placing them into manila folders.

“I’m here for the 8:00am appointment.” You announce.

He hands you a folder and a pen, telling you to fill out the paperwork and return them to him when complete.

You fill out the forms completely and honestly. Your sleep schedule is hell, you sleep when you can, mostly during daylight hours. You don’t recall any of your dreams or nightmares. No drinking or drugs. No sense in lying on these forms, they’ll find out if you’re trying to say something to please them or force yourself into their study group. Forms complete, you place them on the front desk as the young man nods.

Returning to your table you pull out your laptop and begin working on homework. You notice someone is standing in front of you.

A tall young woman with short blonde hair smiles at you, asking you to follow her. You grab your things, she leads you to a small room with a bed and several different machines, some on tables, some freestanding.

She tells you to change into a hospital gown, tie in the front because they need to attach some wires for monitoring. Most of the wires are attached to your head. She tells you the liquid they use to have it stick to your head is easily washed out of your hair. Once you are fully wired, she leaves and comes back with the fluffiest, warmest blanket you have ever felt and wraps it around you leading you to the bed. She asks if you want a sleep mask to block out the light and you do. The hum of the machines, the darkness and the fluffy warm blanket are enough to get you to fall asleep quite quickly.

A soft alarm goes off and you hear the voice of the green haired man asking you what you remember. You stay still, thinking. You recall walking down a corridor, speaking with other people. They are dressed differently. Maybe wearing a school uniform? You were carrying a book headed to…you can’t remember. It is strange, why suddenly have a dream here of all places? Taking the mask from your eyes you look to see him writing. He finishes his notes and leaves muttering a soft “Thank you.”

The wires are removed, you are told to change back into your regular clothes. They will message you if you will be chosen for further study. Handing you an envelope full of cash you head out the door, just in time to make it to your class.

Classes done for the day. You are mopping the floors of the student housing building 3. Yet another party to clean up after. Sure, you could notify the RA’s and make the other students do it, but they would make more mess and take too long. It is easier to simply clean it up yourself. Giving the floor a final mop, you shriek as someone steps behind you and taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, sorry we made so much mess for you.” A handsome male with dark hair, darker skin and brilliant green eyes smiles at you.

“No prob. No mess, no job, right?” You answer. They always show up when the work is about done.

“Can I interest you in some cake? We have some left.” He gestures with his hand open towards you.

“Nope. Smelled it too long cleaning it from floor vents.” You keep swiping the mop back and forth, then dunking it in your soapy bucket, squeezing it out and slapping it back on the floor.

Claude attempts to introduce himself. “Claude Riegan, Senior, Political Science.”

You answer in a monotone voice, “I am the janitor.“

“Hah.” He forces a laugh. “I’ve seen you in the halls here and there. You’re a student as well.”

You shrug, going to the closet to dump out your bucket. “Gotta run. Bldg 2 calls.”

He smiles and waves, you sort of wave back.

Work complete you head back to the smaller than an efficiency apartment you rent. Hotplate, and microwave for cooking, it has a half bath so you wash in a plastic tub. One small room for everything, no closets. Everything you own is in labeled tubs. No windows, but there is a door that locks.

You work on homework until your brain is fried. Collapsing on your bed you set an alarm, plug in your phone and laptop and sleep for a few hours before you have to get up for work tonight at the gas station.

Making it to class 5 minutes early you haul your bucket of coffee with a straw in it to your seat. Did you see that Claude guy in the halls? He likes yellow shirts. Both times you saw him in that color.

Today you listen to the lecture while looking around the room. Most of the time you take notes but you know this particular subject well. There’s a guy with light green hair and glasses to the right. Why does he look familiar? Have you seen him in a class before? You recognize the emo guy in front with a brown haired girl always huddled together. Oh no. The horrendous heartbreaker is here. Who doesn’t know about him? How many messes of his have you cleaned up because he’s dumped a girl and she resorted to violence and damaged school property? At least 100. You had no idea he was in your class. You lift up a book to block his direct view of your face. Perhaps you can remain nonexistent to him.

The professor ends the lesson. You note the work to be turned in, due date, assigned reading. Just as you’re about to finish tossing everything into your bag, you get a text. The psych guys want you for another sleep study. You tell them you can daytime sleep Tues or Thurs or Fri til 5. Great. They take all 3.

Cool. You may actually have some free cash for a few weeks. Maybe you can splurge on new shoes.

Monday night at the gas station is quiet. They usually are. Coffee keeps you coherent enough to make correct change and clean things properly. You have enough time to get home, clean up and hit the psy lab by 6am. They are to wake you 2 so you can make your class in plenty of time.

Mercie is the girl that wires you up to the machines. She hands you the sleep mask and fluffy blanket. It doesn’t take you long to go to sleep having come off your caffeine high a couple hours ago.

The alarm goes off and you bolt upright to a seated position in the bed, gasping for breath.

“Tell me quickly.” The green haired man encourages you to speak.

“I was fighting for my life. There was a battle. It was primitive. There were swords and long spears and huge axes with blades bigger than your head. A woman had fire coming from her fingers killing a man. I could smell his flesh burning. I stabbed bad people with my spear. I had to help my friends. We were fighting…um…a gang? thieves? They were hurting people nearby. My friend was hit by a spear and I killed the guy that hit him. Then I was…touching my friend’s stab wound. Light came from my fingers and I watched the hole in his side close up.” You sat there, staring at your hands. They were your hands but no longer covered in blood. You were grimacing as hard as you were in the dream, concentrating on your hands. But they did not glow.

“What else? What about the land?” His disinterested voice demands more.

“It was in a wild undeveloped area. No buildings. Just trees and rocks and bushes. We were fighting our way up a hill. Some of us going up one side, some going the other. I could hear them fighting on the other side of the hill. We were going to meet at the top. I couldn’t wait to see the leader, I kept looking for her blue hair. I knew she was the best fighter ever and would do everything to keep us safe.”

“Anything else?” His last follow up question.

“It’s faded a lot now. So much blood everywhere. The smells, they were awful. Metal banging on metal was so loud.”

He stands and stretches. “Thank you.” He says as he closes the door behind him.

You get dressed and grab your stuff heading for your afternoon class. Why are you suddenly dreaming? You don’t remember dreaming much before since you were a kid. This was a nightmare. You didn’t drink anything. You had slept over 7 hours, that’s the longest you’ve slept in…months? If the nightmares keep up, you’re not sure this is worth the extra cash.

After class you head home. You don’t feel as exhausted as you normally do, so you work ahead on a class or two. Most of the time homework can be done while you’re at the gas station counter.

Class in the morning is boring. Only a few more weeks to suffer before you get a break. Heading home you lay in your bed. You want to sleep. You really, really do. But now you’re afraid if you close your eyes, will the dreams continue? You grab your accounting book and start reading. You wake up with your alarm going off so you can get ready to head to work tonight. You do not dream, not even a about spreadsheets.

Work is uneventful. Mostly the same people coming in to buy the same things. Taking deliveries of different foods and replacing the purchased items on the shelves. Completing homework as time allows. Finally, it is time to clock out as the next shift comes in to deal with the daytime crowd.

You hit the bus, get to your room, swap out what you don’t need with what you do, toss your backpack on and head out to the Psych lab. You’re wired up and under the blanket. You feel a bit anxious about sleeping, however it is totally dark and the humming of the machines soon overtakes your thoughts and you fall asleep.

You awaken to hear the same guy as before asking you to talk.

Not opening your eyes you go through what happened.” There was a battle but not a real battle. Everyone is fighting but you aren’t really trying to kill each other. The weapons are fake. The magic is real but not seriously real. It reminds me of watching football practice. Each team wore their colors and are trying to beat up the others. The yellow team wins and everyone goes to a party. The blue haired leader lady said I had done a great job. She asks me to have tea and wants to talk about joining her house. Is she leading a fraternity? I woke up as I was helping clean up the mess after the party.”

“Tell me where this happened.” He asks.

“Well, the battle was on a big open field. There was a hill that someone could pull a lever and fire stuff at others. Scattered clumps of trees here and there, where some people would hide. It was a long walk to get to the field there. When walking I spoke with a grayish haired guy that would talk about stories he read about knights and do gooders. Oh, and on a big hill were three people with bright green hair. A man, woman and a younger shorter girl. They were watching. But they did not go to the party after. The party was in the dining area back at the school.”

You’re dressed, your hair feels sticky, so you put on a baseball cap with the university logo on it and head to your janitorial job. Mind numbing floor sweeping, mopping, and emptying trashcans fills your night. You are glad you had a good sleep at the psych lab, because it’s a short night tonight after getting off at 3am and having a class again at 8am the next day, you make it, like any other college student.

Grabbing something awful to eat after class, you head back to the third floor in the psych building for the last sleep of this week.

You wake up completely and totally freaked out. What a nightmare. Walking forever in the rain until you are soaked through, your skin all cold and wrinkly, and now you go into the creepy tower with the rest of the Blue Lions. You’re on the blue team. An older woman is the teacher, you wish you had the blue haired lady, she was so awesome.

Everyone creeps around and around going up higher in the tower while bad guys are firing arrows and popping out of hidden spaces. You remember using magic. You concentrated and this circle with marks on it appeared in your vision and next thing you know you shot lightning out of your fingers at a monster. A horrifying monster. It used to be a mean ugly guy but he changed and got big and evil looking, like a T-rex heavy on the claws and teeth. Everyone is fighting for their lives.

The worse part is one of them was his brother and had to get something back for his family. There was so much blood. Everyone was freaked out, especially the guy that killed his brother. It was horrible. By the time you finished talking to Linny, you were shaking and holding yourself. He just kept saying it was only a dream and told you that you would be fine.

You head to classes trying to best to concentrate.

Normally the job of polishing floors is nice. The machine does all of the work, you just change out the heads to clean then polish. The hallways here lead to rooms that have been reset for a large Art show presenting the student’s works. Many of the students are in your way, hauling in stands and setting up displays of their work. You keep looking down, studying the polishing machine. You can’t look at most of the artwork it, reminds you of the monsters you’ve dreamed of, or swords, or there is blood everywhere. What happened to fields of flowers? Paint a bowl of fruit or something bland.

You clock out at 3 am, head back to your room and crash burying yourself under a ton of blankets. One class today then you don’t have to be back to the university until 6pm. You need to hide in your bed. You are mentally exhausted. You need to sleep, so you down some cold medicine and it knocks you out.

Sleep is not kind. You aren’t in the lab, you are in the safety of your own bed. The dreams, okay, nightmares continue. Some girl is missing. Everyone is trying to find her. The Blue Lions leave to find some item and fight monsters, when you come back they found her, some other gal that was missing, and a creepy skeleton looking guy on a horse fought them in the basement. Ugh. You remember that head someone had on a stand in the art class, with the red glowing eyes. At least before you woke up you remember having tea with the blue haired professor and you agreed to join her group. She also gives you nice flowers for your birthday. You wake up just after tea was over.

You’ve never dreamed before. What the hell. You aren’t getting paid to dream at home. You don’t want this. What can of worms have they opened on you? You want your regular dreamless close your eyes, sleep, open them and go again. Not running miles and chasing horrible things and stabbing stuff and getting hurt and bleeding.

After class this morning the library is your destination today. Gotta get some references and info for a class. You stop by a quicky mart on the way. Need coffee. You’re not one of those fancy coffee kids, just creamer and go. You could care less what mountain they grew the coffee on as long as it is caffeine and keeping you awake.

Filling your cup with the elixir of consciousness, you see a girl with purple hair having problems with the whipped cream function of the expensive coffee and creamer dispenser.

You walk up to her. “Hey Bernie, want me to help?”

“Sure.” The girl says still punching buttons.

You fiddle with the machine knowing how temperamental they can be and get plenty of whip cream on top of her coffee.

She looks at me to say thank you, drops her books and screams. “Who are you? I don’t even know you!”

You shove a lid on her cup and put it in her hands. “Take your coffee.” Picking up her books, you stuff them in her arms. You head for the checkout. Your brain is confused too. You don’t know her, but she’s in the dreams and it’s her, Bernadetta.

Heading to the library you pull out your laptop and begin working on a project for class. You keep your head down, concentrate you keep telling yourself, but pieces of the dreams creep up on you every time you try to focus. Writing a few sentences, you click on an arrow on your laptop screen. You remember Bernie shooting arrows and she’s an amazing archer along with Ignatz. They love to paint. You wonder what it would look like if they did something together.

Concentrate. Fingers on the keyboard. The page is filling with text, the project is coming along. You need to find another book for reference. Signing into the library website you search for its location. You find the book and take it back to your seat. Flipping through it you find the section you want. Inside there is a postit note:

“Don’t bother with this. It’s wrong. See…” It lists a book you passed on, thinking this would be better. Perhaps the mysterious postit writer has been through this class and is saving everyone else from the same headaches. Nice. You get up and trade out books. This one does have exactly what you are looking for and your project speeds forward. You flip through the book once you’re finished with its contents and surprise! Another postit. “Bonus: Check out…”

You are enraptured, of course you go to find the next book. It is even better than the last one. The section related to your task has a note. “BTW, don’t quote that last book, Prof hates it. Do this instead. The curious get the rewards!” OMG. This is the greatest stuff. But the game is over, no more notes, you even check behind the last one. It did keep you entertained and focused though, a great help or you may have never finished this.

Saving everything and backing it up onto the cloud you have enough time to toss your stuff into the employee lockers and get your janitorial getup on. Baseball cap and earbuds in, it’s time for 8 hours of cleaning up after everyone else.

Building 3 is the party hub of the campus. At least they cleaned up some of the party decor, floor vents contain no cake, but they still leave a mess. You have to wash down the walls.

About 1:30am a dark haired guy with a ponytail comes in all frazzled asking if I’ve seen a red headed guy passed out somewhere. Nope. We both check the balcony and there he is out on a plastic chair. It is heartbreaker Sylvain.

You ask for help picking him up to get him to a standing position. You tell his buddy to hold him still. Throwing your right shoulder into his crotch you grab his left arm and throw it over your opposite shoulder. Sylvain is now up over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

His buddy gets the door and elevator for you. When the door opens there is a wheelchair close by and you dump Sylvain into it.

“How’d you know how to do that?” His friend asks.

“I’ve carried him before.” You answer as you help wheel Sylvain to the car. You help pour him into the front seat and reach over the seatbelt to his friend.

“Good luck. He’s your problem now.” You mutter as you turn around and head back to work.

At least this time he wasn’t bleeding you think. Wait. You’ve carried Sylvain before, during a fight. To get him to safety. That was Felix who came to get him. When you carried him, you were in leather gear and had more muscles. It reminds you of highschool wrestling. You did that for a few years. It felt so right doing that, but this college doesn’t have women’s wrestling, so you left it behind. It was how you got the job in janitorial because you are a female that can lift and move heavy weights, doing it the right way and not getting hurt.

Finishing your shift it is early Sunday morning. You go home, sleep, and dream.

You’re playing chess with Hubert. You’re beating him and he is pissed. He threatens you with cheating, distracting him, etc. You laugh at him. He’s always threatening someone or something.

Byleth comes in and ends the game. You head to a war meeting with the rest of the Black Eagles Strike force. Now that Byleth has returned Edelgard wants to recapture the great bridge at Myrddin.

After the meeting you head out to the training area for magic users. Warming up with a few Thunder spells, you work through Thoron then Bolting. The magic flowing through you feels amazing, you are one with the forces of nature.

You can feel the cold flowing from your fingertips as you cast blizzard at a target. Casting Fimbulvetr you watch as a solid ice grows around and surrounds the target.

Taking a few cleansing breaths, you then cast sagittae, the arrows breaking chunks of ice off of the target. Agnea’s Arrow finally strikes the ice, causing bright flames releasing steam into the area. The ice and target are obliterated.

You feel a good exhaustion come over you. Practice complete, you head to your quarters to complete additional research for some spells you have been working on.

The next moment you are on the bridge, fighting Alliance fighters and a few former classmates. Byleth has you stationed further away from the students, your goal is to take out a number of heavily armored ground troops and clear the way to Judith, leader of the enemy forces. Your fingers spark with electricity as your favorite spells are prepared. You remind yourself to keep your jubilant shrieks to yourself, in the last battle Hubert chastised you for frightening Bernadetta.

You wake up in your bed. This time you are not revulsed by the fighting. It felt thrilling. That scares you more than when you were upset and afraid. Things are so different in this dream. Byleth is a woman. But you’ve seen them before as a man. You know Edelgard was your enemy before, but this time you practically worship the ground she walks on. You remembered the singular focus you had in the dream. Nothing to distract you from your goal. You would forgo sleep, train well into the night.

Why were you playing chess with Hubert? Oh. He had tricked you, saying that chess is training of the mind to think more strategically. You thought he was trying to keep you out of the training grounds for a while. He’s always playing mother hen over everyone, sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.

Sitting up in your bed you shake your head. That was not part of the dream. It felt more like a memory. Are these dreams making you delusional now? You would like to get off this mental merry-go-round.

The next two weeks are filled with working nights, classes or sleeping during the day. Your bank account is getting fat. Your brain is not doing so well. Things from your dreams hit you during the day. Stopping at the cafeteria of the college, you look down at your tray of obviously poor choices. Mercedes voice is in your ear, suggesting that you eat more vegetables. You swear you can hear Manuela tell you to put the pie back on the shelf and get brussels sprouts, dark greens are much healthier for you.

You wear hoodies to class now that the weather is getting a bit colder. Tying the hood around your face to block your peripheral vision helps you concentrate on where you are going. Otherwise you feel like you recognize so many people.

Yesterday, while in the cafeteria you ate your oatmeal with extra raisins and apples, less sugar, thank you Marianne, when you heard a male voice over the rest of the throng. You knew it was Ferdinand. He was being boastful and incredibly proud of his stance on the subject, as a noble should be. It had to be him. Gulping down your food you grab your carton of 2% milk and head out the door to take the long way around to class.

Being a lab rat for the psy group seems to be getting easier. It is like you slip into an alternate universe in the past. Everyone there has the right names and faces, while here in the future, most of them don’t know themselves as you do.

Linny gets lazy about writing down everything. He simply records everything on a laptop and someone else can transcribe it. He sits in his chair, folds his arms and drifts off to sleep to the sound of your voice telling of your dreams.

It is getting harder to keep your accounts of what happens in the dreams simple. You know everyone’s names, the weapons, the enemies, the spells. You feel the need to translate them into something that relates to modern equivalents. You are also trying to be careful about revealing just how deep you are into these…are they just dreams? Memories? Recollections?

Finishing your recitation of the dream, Linhardt is asleep again. Linny!! It’s Linny now. You poke him in the ribs where you know he is ticklish, he quickly wakes and demands that you stop. You ask him to unhook the wires so you can head out. Taking your envelope, you head out to the ATM, deposit the cash then get ready for work.

Noting the amount of posters on the walls for the party in Student housing building 3, Claude is going to have a huge mess for you to clean up. Finishing work on the admin building you head over to whatever disaster awaits you after the party.

The common area and meeting room used for the event are not the worst you have seen. They even bagged up most of their trash. Hauling in a huge plastic dumpster on wheels, you load up the bags to make room to maneuver. Wiping down the tables and chairs you stack and move them to make mopping easier.

“Hey, hope things are better this time, Janitor.” Claude announces as he walks into the room.

“It’s nice. Thanks.” You mumble, surprised that he is here.

“I know we left a huge mess before, so I put Hilda in charge of cleanup.” He has that smirky grin on his face. It’s funny how some things never change. He’s still handsome too.

“I bet she was pissed that you’re making her work.” You say without thinking.

“She was.” Claude nods. “You know her?”

“I..uh..know some people in common.” You answer, wiping a table harder. Claude has always been intensely curious and you are now on his radar. Great.

“You look familiar. I can’t recall where I know you from.” Claude’s voice trails off as he puts his hand to his chin and thinks.

“I have pretty common looks. One head, two eyes with bags under them from lack of sleep. Same as most students.”

Claude sits cross-legged on one of the not too dirty tables, making himself at home. He is staring at you, his chin resting on his fist.

You finish the tables and chairs, except for the table that is occupied and sweep the largest chunks from the floor.

“Please tell me you are not majoring in sanitation or building maintenance.” Claude finally speaks.

“I thought you fell asleep.” You shake the broom onto the building pile of crumbs and debris. You answer him, “No.”

“Too simply dressed to be arts. Rocket scientist?” Claude asks, raising an eyebrow. “You hang out in the science and mathematics buildings.”

“Allergic to RP-1.” You answer, sweeping the crud into a dustpan and heading to the janitorial closet for a mop and bucket. As you emerge with your tools, Claude is in the hallway waiting for you.

“Thank you for an engrossing and in depth conversation.” He yawns and stretches his arms. “Next time don’t talk my ear off.”

Giving a happy sigh of relief you finish cleaning and reassembling the room into its standard configuration. Finishing for the night you grab a shower and head home for a nap and a homework filled day.

Sunday night at the gas station starts off with the normal routine. Delivery trucks unloading overpriced snacks, little old ladies holding up the line while they dig out exact change from their purse, kids dumping sodas on the floor. Past midnight the customers are few and far between. The door sounds and you look up from your bookwork. Some guy with messy red hair starts to come in, turns around and yells at whoever is in the car parked outside in the handicapped spot.

He turns around and faces you. First, you see the gun in his hands. Second, you look at his face and see Miklan.

“Hands up, Bitch. Listen or you are fucking dead.” He snarls, waving the gun.

You put your hands in the air alongside your head. A gunshot rings out, you hear the bullet hit the wall behind you, just over your head.

Miklan snickers, “Yup, loaded. Open the fucking cash register then get back.” He orders.

You open the till then push your back into the cigarettes displayed behind you. He climbs on the counter, reaching in the drawer, looking to grab the cash, but still pointing the gun at you. You keep your hands up, moving them in familiar positions as you softly mouth the words.

An incredibly bright flash of light goes off in front of you combined with a near deafening boom. Miklan’s body flies in the air, landing on his back on the floor. The entire store goes dark. The car outside flashes its lights, then backs up, crashing into a gas pump and speeds off.

You grab your cell phone out of your bag, thrilled when the screen lights up. Calling 911, they say they are on the way. In minutes police, a fire truck and ambulance arrive. They let you grab your belongings and take you outside away from the building under a nearby streetlight. You see camera flashes coming from the building as the ambulance hauls a stretcher inside. An officer speaks with you for a while, telling you to relax and saying a lot of nothing. They frequently ask if you are okay. Your voice shakes and you are visibly trembling from the experience.

After almost an hour they make you lock up the building (minus one Miklan) and take you to the station for questioning. You call your employer while riding in the car. They will handle the store, they are happy you are alive. Take off the rest of the week with full pay.

At the police station you tell them what happened. He came in, shot the gun, you opened the drawer and while he was taking the money something electrical must have happened because there was an electric flash and the whole building went dark. You try to describe the car that was parked outside. You never got a look at the driver.

The police thank you for your cooperation, giving you a cup of coffee, a Danish, and a ride home. You head up the stairs to your apartment and unlock the door. Turning on the light you notice an unmarked envelope on the floor. Nervously you open it. Inside is a slip of paper that says:

“We need to talk. -B.”

You fall onto your bed. You know the handwriting. Its them. Byleth is here, now. There is nothing else on the paper. No phone number. You have no idea what to do next. The only thing you can think of doing is wait. Since it is 3am, you may as well try to sleep. For seeing a dead body for the first time in this life, you are more relaxed about it than you feel you should be.

You wake up to your phone announcing a text message. You sit up and see you have 3 unread messages from an unknown number. You take a deep breath.

[8:00] Hey

[8:05] Wake up

[8:07] Wakey, wakey

I’m up. [8:07]

[8:08] Blue Prius outside, get in and take a ride

Every alarm in your head is going off telling you that this is a bad idea.

Give me a couple minutes to get ready. [8:08]

Stepping outside there is the Prius. As you arrive you open the door to see a huge man hunched over the wheel. He is so large part of him is in your seat. You close the door as you wonder how he got into the car in the first place. You move his elbow away to put on your seatbelt.

“Heya pal.” He says.

“Balthus?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“The one and only.” He smirks and hits the gas so hard you fly back in your seat.

He takes you downtown. You are glued to the seast, white knuckled, hanging on to the door handle as he drives like a maniac. You can’t say anything because your heart is in your throat. He suddenly stops in front of a large, unmarked brick building with a 16 above the door.

“Go on ahead, it’s going to take me a while to get out of here. Elevator is through the doors, fourth floor.” Balthus grunts as he opens the door and begins to unfold himself to get out of the tiny car.

As you step up to the door you hear it unlock. Going inside there is no doorman, no security, simply a hallway that leads to the elevator. Punching the up button, you wait. Checking your phone there are no new texts. The doors open and you go inside, hitting the 4thfloor button. You are shaking with excitement, nervousness, dread and who knows what else. As the doors open, they reveal an elegant and very tasteful office setting. Behind a high counter you can’t recognize the person sitting there until they stand up and smile widely at you, holding out his hand.

“Hi. Just call me Gavin. I’m sure you know me as-“

“Gatekeeper!” You gasp and laugh, shaking his hand warmly.

He hits a button on the desk and a voice on the intercom responds, “Okay.”

The door on the other side of the room clicks and opens.

“You can head on in now.” Gavin gestures to the slightly open door.

You walk to the other side of the reception desk and the door is open to a richly wood paneled hallway. The door on the other end of this hall opens as you approach. You pull the door the rest of the way open, stepping in to see Byleth sitting in a large comfortable office chair and Yuri partially seated on the top of the desk on the opposite side.

“Welcome to the fold.” Yuri holds his arms out wide.

You rush over to give him a huge hug, like you would any dear friend. Because he was? Is? You’re not sure, but you hug him anyway.

“I’m sure you have many questions.” Byleth folds his hands on his desk and looks at you, waiting for your response.

“I don’t get a hug?” You ask, holding your arms out.

Byleth stands and steps around the desk and hugs you, then looks down at you. “I apologize. I am not certain what you know and what you remember.”

“A lot. This is going to take a while.” You answer. “Can we drop the formal setting and sit somewhere comfy? With you behind the desk it’s like we’re back in school.”

“I’ll get us some coffee.” Yuri offers. “Cream only, right?”

“Yup.” You chime as Byleth leads you to an overstuffed corner couch in front of large windows that offer a great view of the city. You take a seat at one end and take your coffee, placing it on the end table next to you. Yuri and Byleth sit beside each other on the other end.

“So you two are together this time?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Yuri smiles as he takes Byleth’s hand in his own.

“Awesome. My favorite.” You nod.

“Just how much do you remember?” Yuri asks, tilting his head.

“I remember fighting alongside each of the houses. If I was not in the house when Byleth led them, they recruited me. Byleth was a male once, a female twice. Three times altogether.” You begin, then frown. “Strange. None of them are like the history books.

Yuri and Byleth look at each other for what seemed like a long time. Yuri bends over and hits a button on the telephone on the table.

“Gavin, order lunch to be brought in and make reservations for dinner. Cancel any remaining appointments for today. Thanks”

“Okay. Start from the beginning. Let’s say Blue Lions. What is your first memory with them?”

“I was staying at an inn, Remire Village. I just made it to the dining area and was stuffing my face full of food when Jeralt comes in all pissed off because these kids show up and they’re in trouble.” You begin. They let you keep talking. Yuri tents his fingers at times, mostly sits back sipping his coffee.

Byleth is spellbound as you begin. He stares into your face like he is reliving your memories with you. Well, they did live them with you. They were your best friend.

You tell them of the battle with Miklan, finding Flayn, Remire, the fall of Jeralt, the defeat of Solon, the battle of Garreg Mach, the five years of being without Byleth, reuniting for the Millennium festival, Dimitri’s madness, the battle at the bridge and Dedue’s return, the nightmare that was Gronder, Merceus and Enbarr.

You then go silent. You look at Yuri and Byleth. You grimace for a moment.

“BylethmarriedDimitri.” You cough into your hand. “I don’t remember much after that.”

Byleth sits back on the couch. “Fascinating.”

“You never told me that-“ Yuri begins to say until Byleth gives him a look that obviously says now is not the time for this.

A beep sounds from the telephone.

“Time for lunch.” Byleth says as he stands up.

You leave through a different door and are led to a dining room. The food smells delicious.

Over lunch you begin your questioning. “Okay, so was this all real? I know you merged with Sothis and everything, convenient to leave that out of the history books, but this actually happened? It’s not just dreams. I began to remember while dreaming, then it moved on to remembering while I was awake. The memories flooded my brain like a tidal wave.”

“Yes. It was real. It did happen. Several times.” Byleth answers you without hesitation.

“You kept reliving that part of your life over and over until you arrived at the best solution? That is fucking amazing. Hawking would've loved it.” You shake your head in near disbelief. “You were the archbishop, but the church isn’t around any more. I guess you just let that go away on its own. What are you doing now?”

Yuri comments about how well the meat is spiced and that they should order this dish again. You interpret this as new subject time.

“There was no mention of dragons or Agarthans in the history books. Did that happen?” You ask quietly.

Byleth nods, “Yes. It did. It was a fantastic combined effort to take them down. We agreed it was best left unwritten.”

The food is quite delicious. You try to think of more pleasant things to talk or ask about, your head spinning with this revelation before you.

“Who else remembers?”

“Just you.” Yuri answers.

“You gotta be shitting me.” Your jaw drops nearly to the table.

“Only you.” Byleth nods.

“Is anyone else supposed to remember?” You’re happy about these two, but you also hoped to speak to a few others. Reminisce about old times? Something like that.

Yuri explains, “Well, in the past we tried a few times, reincarnation is a thing actually. Most of you appear close to the same time. We had tried different ways of bringing through their memories. The problem was that when some remembered they mentally crashed. Now with counseling and medications being as advanced as they are we thought we would try again.”

“So then I volunteer to be a lab rat and something clicked…” Your voice drifts off as you recall the early dreams. .

Yuri continues, “When we read the reports of your dreams we were very excited. What we weren’t’ prepared for is how quickly it awoke the memories in you. We had no idea how you would respond.”

“You are a secretive creature, keeping mostly to yourself.” Byleth nods.

“We’ve been spying on you here and there.” Yuri grins. “You are so damn boring. Anyway, hiring you at the university made it easier to eavesdrop on your conversations.”

“What about the gas station incident.” You have a puzzled look on your face.

“That was all you.” Byleth shakes his head. “We had no idea that you could retain so much knowledge that you could actually cast spells. Crests have pretty much faded from existence. There are probably a few flickers here and there but nothing manifesting.”

You head back to the comfy couch, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. “So what now?”

“Well you can go on with your best life. You can work with us. What do you want to do?” Byleth shrugs. “We want to give your soul some closure. Maybe to be able to move on? Not like some creepy ghost or anything.”

Yuri winks, “Hey what about your love life? Do you remember much about it?”

You scrunch your face remembering what a mess it was. “Yes, I do. Ugh. I fell for Claude but had no chance because of supersexy female Byleth. I chased after Felix who was a good friend, but he was in love with Sylvain for forever. Then omg, can’t believe I am saying this, Hubert, and well, he was all over Ferdinand.”

They both look at you with a slight frown.

“I don’t know what order Byleth went through the different houses. I never remembered from one experience to the next. Now that I remember them all, I can certainly see what I didn’t before. A whole lot of ‘love is blind’ going on. Wanting something so much you can’t see the signs blocking your way.”

“How about now?” Yuri has that sly look about him. What a gossip.

“Working two jobs trying to pay for college and not be buried in debt, I have not dated. Ever.” You shrug. “It isn’t fair to someone else, we would have almost no time together. I work nights 7 days a week then school and homework. There is no time to breathe or eat, much less look for love.”

“Well, Byleth is unavailable.” Yuri moves a bit closer to him to assert his ownership. “You know Claude is quite curious about you, ‘Janitor’.” He taunts.

You roll your eyes. “What part of my life don’t you spy on?”

The three of you talk about fond memories, precious victories, even recalling a few of the tragic events.

“So you’ve poked a hole in my brain and all of my memories are out. What would you like to see me do? Wow. I feel like I just dropped a card into the Advice Box.” You laugh.

Byleth, who loved to answer these, sits up. “You should finish your degree and get your Masters.”

“Masters?” You groan, “I am dying right now, you want more? Degree, Masters, required internships and I’m already behind not being able to take things on full boat. I’ll be graduating when I’m 40.”

“Well, there’s a scholarship you may be interested in.” Yuri has his sneaky sneak face on. “You qualify of course. Pays for your schooling, housing, and monthly stipend. Funded by the Eisner foundation. Very private lot they are. More of a don’t call us, we’ll call you kind of group.”

You fall back onto the couch in shock. “W-why are you doing this?” trying to choke back tears.

“The usual.” He drawls. “Finally being able to catch up with old friends. Thank them for everything they’ve done. We would not be here without you. Hoping maybe you want to hang out with us. Maybe awaken a few others?”

“This is all beyond belief.” You shake your head. “If you asked me six months ago that I would be here with you two, talking over past lives. Wow. Do Seteth and Flayn come and visit?”

“They’re around.” Yuri gestures just vaguely enough to let you know yes, but that is not readily available information at this time.

“You are not planning on forming a vigilante superhero group or something weird like that are you?” You frown.

Yuri pouts. “You don’t want to be Lightning Lady or the silver bolt?”

“No.” you answer resolutely. “Masks freak me out these days. You should’ve seen some of the stuff in the art show. Made the Death Knight look like a fairy princess.”

Byleth stands. “We deserve a great dinner, care to join us at Dedue’s?”

“He’s here? Cooking? You bet!” You realize this is the beginning of something amazing.

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 1

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

TW: Blood

It was a warm night, and I was wearing my favorite summer dress, seated on a velvet couch, in an old house.

“Well, miss Sunday. Thank you very much for coming all the way out here to speak to me. I’ll go over your resumé one more time, but I think I’ve heard all I need”. The dark-haired, pale man gave me a friendly smile. I knew better than to reach out my hand for him to shake, and simply got up to stand, and nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr. Compton”, I smiled. “Just let me know if there’s anything else you need… So, interview over?”. “Interview’s over”, he said. “Good! Calling you Mr. Compton was getting weird!”, I laughed. “Well, you did insist”. “It was a job-interview. It was only proper”, I shrugged.

Bill Compton walked me to his front door, and I was about to say goodbye, when he halted, just before going for the doorknob. “There is one thing, I wanted to ask you; and seeing as you’ve been so forthcoming with me, on everything else…”. The vampire narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”, I said. “Why did you decide to apply for the position as my day-person?”, he asked. I smiled embarrassedly. “Honestly… I need the money”, I said. “I’ve been hoping to pay down my student loan, but taking up extra shifts down at Merlotte’s just isn’t cutting it”.

“That’s not what I meant”, he said. “You just don’t strike me as the type of person to take a job for a vampire”. He raised an intrigued brow at me. “Not enough fang marks on me?”, I chuckled. The vampire chuckled, and it seemed that if he’d been able to blush, he would have. “You’re offering a good salary for what seems like an easy job; and one that I can do while still staying on with Sam. The fact that you’re a vampire doesn’t really matter to me”. “Why not?”, he asked. “Why should it?”, I retorted. “Some might say it’s dangerous to work for one of us”, the vampire said. “You’re no more likely to hurt me than any other vampire around – or human for that matter”, I said. “Besides; Sookie speaks highly of you, and I trust her”. “Well, she speaks highly of you as well”, he said.

He seemed to think for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “If you want this job, it’s yours”, he said. My jaw dropped. “Really?”, I asked. The vampire confirmed it with a nod. “Thank you, Bill. You won’t regret it…! One thing, though… Day-person? Can’t we call it… secretary? Or assistant?”. He chuckled warmly as he opened the door for me to leave. “Please come by tomorrow. I’ll have a list for you with some things I need handled”, Bill said, as I went down the steps of the porch. “8 pm?”, I asked. “That sounds perfect”, Bill said. “See you then”. He handed me back the “resumé”, which I’d written on the back of a paper placemat from Merlotte’s. As I took it, I got a slight papercut on my finger. “Shit”, I muttered. Bill smiled slightly. “Would you like me to fetch you a band-aid?”. “Nah…”, I said, and looked at the trickle of blood. “You hungry?”, I teased. “I think Sookie might have a problem with me feeding from a friend”. “Alright”, I shrugged.

I began fishing my car keys out of my bag, and cursed to myself, as they fell from my hand, and landed in the gravel on the ground. I was about to crouch to pick them up; when I felt a gush of wind, and suddenly stood nose to chest with a very tall man. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. They were bright blue, and had a sharpness to them. “Hello”, he said, a cheery mischievous tone to his voice. “Hi”, I said, and went to pick up my keys again. The man – vampire, I realized – held them out to me, before I even so much as bent over. “Fuck, you’re fast”, I gasped. He put the keys in my outstretched hand, and grabbed my wrist, to look at my bleeding finger. “When I want to be”, he smiled. “Bill, who is this? Introduce us”.

Bill stepped of his porch, and walked warily towards us. “Eric Northman… This is Liv Sunday”. I found it hard to break eye contact with the tall vampire, mostly because he was one of the most handsome people I’d ever met. “Liv”, Eric said. He dragged out the sound of my name, pronouncing it Leev. “Yours…? She smells… pure”. I managed to look away, and turned my gaze to Bills face instead. His jaw was clenched. “My assistant”, Bill repeated, put a hand on my arm, and went to stand half way in front of me. The tall vampire let go of my wrist. “Off limits”. “I’m a big girl, Bill", I said. “I can speak for myself". “Yes, she’s a big girl, Bill", Eric smiled. “Let her speak for herself". I frowned at the tall vampire, and shook my head. “That means you too, Vlad", I said. A grin ghosted his face.

Eric leaned his head forwards, and burrowed his eyes even deeper into mine. “Liv… You’re interesting”, he said. “Please. Tell me more about you”. “Eric!”, Bill growled. “Why have you come?”. “To discuss matters surrounding the conference. It is election year, after all”, the other vampire replied, never taking his eyes off mine. “Now stop interrupting my conversation with… Liv”. The vampire-testosterone was heavy in the air, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe some other time”, I said. “Oh come now…”, Eric smiled, his eyes digging even deeper. I frowned at him. “I said no!”, I sneered. The tall vampire seemed taken aback, and Bills eyes widened. “Ok… I’m just gonna go”, I said.

Bill followed me all the way over to my car, and held the door for me as I climbed in. I opened the window to let some air into the cabin. “Drive safely now”, Bill said. “See you at 8 tomorrow. I’ll give your regards to Sookie”. Eric smiled at me. “It was nice meeting you, Liv”, he said. “Until next time”. His intense gaze made heat pool in my lower stomach, and I had to consciously tell myself to put the key in the ignition.

I drove home to my one-bedroom rental feeling happy that I’d nailed my job interview; and stirred from meeting Eric. I supposed he always had that influence on people; Bill probably just turned his mojo down, because he had Sookie, and didn’t need to impress people in the same way. Bill was the second vampire I’d met that I’d actually spoken to, since they came out of the coffin. Eric was the third, so I didn’t have much to compare him too; but I read magazines as much as the next person.

When I got inside, I took a cold shower; trying to shake the meeting out of my system. Before I climbed into bed, I checked my messages, and saw that Sookie had sent me a text, congratulating me on my new side-gig with Bill. I sent her one back, thanking her for hooking me up with the interview.

Sookie had been a good friend every since I got to town. I’d been down on my luck since leaving San Diego; but Bon Temps had been good to me so far. I had a waitressing job at Merlotte’s, on top of the one I’d just gotten with Bill – taking care of the things he needed done during the daylight – and some good friends in Sookie and Bill; and even my other boss; Sam. I’d even go so far as calling Sookies brother, Jason, a friend – even if he did try getting me into bed with him, whenever he could. I think the fact that I was so fervent in my dismissal of him, made him have some weird kind of respect for me. I was happy – settled, even. The last thing I needed was some blonde hottie trying to get in my pants; it didn’t matter if his name was Jason Stackhouse – or Eric Northman for that matter.

---

I slept in the next day, as my meeting with Bill had been quite late – or should I say, early, as I’d not been home until 3 am. My shift at the bar was a slow one, which was good for Terry, who was having one of his bad days in the kitchen. All 6 hours dragged along in a manner so boring, it was a relief when 7 pm. came along, and Arlene came to take over from me.

Arriving back at the Compton house, I was met in the door by Sookie. “Hey, Liv! Come on in!”, she grinned. “Bill’s in the living room”. “Is it your night off, Sook’?”, I asked. “Uh huh”, she said. “Bill’s taking me to dinner”. We walked into the living room, where Bill was waiting, with a somber look on his face. “Liv… I would like to apologize for Erics behavior last night”, he said. “He didn’t do anything wrong”, I said. “It’s not the first time someone’s flirted with me”. “Eric Northman flirted with you?”, Sookie chuckled. “And you didn’t end up with your legs around his waist?”. I mock scoffed. “I am a lady”, I said. “I tend to throw them around a man’s neck first”. Sookie punched my shoulder. “Slut!”, she grinned.

Bill looked very seriously at the both of us. “This is no laughing matter, ladies. Eric glamoured you!”, he said. I shook my head in confusion. “He didn’t…”, I said. “I saw him… He was using his glamour on you”, Bill repeated fervently. “I really don’t think he did. At least I didn’t feel anything happening”, I tried again.  “Jeez… I worked for you for five minutes; and you’re already acting like my daddy”, I said.

The vampire looked confused, but Sookie broke the tension, by reminding him they had reservations. “You’re right, of course; sweetheart”, Bill said, and took a piece of paper from the coffee-table. “I made this list for you. On the top here is making an appointment with an electrician. I’ve been having some flickering lights in the kitchen. Of course, I don’t use it much, but I do want it working… Then there’s this case of TruBlood O-neg. The all-night supermarket won’t be getting another shipment for at least a week, and I can’t…”. “Honey? We’re late!”, Sookie sighed. “Where are you going?”, I asked. “A place in Shreveport. Ky-auntie”, Sookie smiled. “Chianti”, Bill said. “And you’re right. Let’s go”.

We all left the house, and walked to our respective cars, when I remembered something. “Hold up!”, I called out. I ripped some of the paper from the list, and quickly wrote down my phone number with an eyeliner from my purse. I ran over to Bill with it. “Here. You never got my number. Just in case anything else comes up”, I said. “Thank you”, Bill smiled. “Any big plans for you tonight?”, he asked. “I have a date with my neighbor’s cat. At least I think he belongs to my neighbor. He might be a stray… We eat tuna together on Thursdays”, I sighed. “I thought you were allergic to cats”, Sookie said from inside the BMW. “Our love is complex… and I take pills”, I said. “Go on now. Have fun”.

I waved them off, as they drove away; and got into my own car. It stalled a few times, before finally starting up, and I could drive home – just in time for my date with Mr. Whiskers. He was only mildly annoyed when I came out the back door 3 minutes late, with his bowl. “Sorry I’m late, honey”, I said. “I had a vampire to tend to”. The cat wailed at me, and attacked the tuna like it hadn’t eaten in weeks.

I lit a cigarette, and sat down on the steps, leaning against the screen door, reading a magazine. Some of my neighbors were having a party, and I enjoyed the music coming out of the window. It was a warm night, but not many mosquitos around. I was happy to be left alone from the little bloodsuckers, when my phone vibrated, and I found myself summoned by a large one. - Need you in Shreveport asap. Bill

I frowned at the phone. - I’m your day person. Nights are off limits.

- Fangtasia. Be there in an hour.

- Remind me to ask for a raise BOSS!, I replied; stomped out my smoke, and went back into the house to look up the address of whatever the hell Fangtasia was. Google let me know it was a vampire bar. Dinner must have been over quickly, and Bill had probably taken Sookie for a drink. I looked down at the attire I was currently wearing, and decided that if Bill insisted on being a jerk-boss, I’d be a jerk employee; and show up in cut off shorts, and ABBA t-shirt – that was fifty sizes to big, and hung off my shoulder – hopefully embarrassing him in front of his friends.

I cursed at Bill all the way to Shreveport. “Stupid vampire, ruining my date with Mr. Whiskers”, I muttered to myself, as I parked my rusty car next to a flashy convertible on the parking lot of the bar. There was a line down to the door, going all the way around the corner of the building. A blonde woman with a bored expression on her face stood at the entrance, turning away anyone she didn’t see fit for entry. I sent Bill a text, letting him know I was outside, and had no intention of waiting in line. He’d have to meet me in the lot.

I leaned against my car, kicking at a stray paper cup on the ground, when a cold finger poked my shoulder. I looked up into the face of the blonde woman. She was striking up close. “Liv Sunday?”, she said, sounding as bored as she looked. “Yeah?”, I said. She gave me an insincere smile. “Follow me…”.

She led me to the entrance of the bar, and a burly doorman lifted the red rope for us so we could walk inside. A song with heavy bass was leading some scantily clad dancers on podiums, and the air was heavy with cheap perfume and sexual frustration. The blonde led me to a table, and waved over a black clad waitress. “Order whatever you want on the house. Ginger will sort you out”, she said. The waitress smiled brightly at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m here to meet Bill”, I said confusedly. The woman rolled her eyes, and walked away. I would have given her the finger, if I wasn’t worried, she’d bite it off. “What can I get you?”, the waitress, Ginger, asked. “The most expensive thing you have that isn’t blood”, I sighed. “Long Island Ice Tea, coming right up!”, she grinned, and walked away; tugging at her tiny top as she did.

I took my phone out of my pocket, and saw I had a new text from a number I didn’t know. - Hello Liv. This is Bill Compton. I would like to extend my gratitude to you for accepting the position as my assistant. I’m writing this as Sookie is powdering her nose; as to not interrupt our evening together. Could I please ask you to add to the list, that I need to get in touch with a florist who knows where to get some sunflowers? Sookie likes them. Thank you very much.

I was deeply confused at this point, and not a little worried. If Bill hadn’t been the one to summon me to Fangtasia, then I was currently in a strange bar, surrounded by vampires, without a companion; just sitting around like a delicious crab leg on a buffet table. Sure, there were humans around, but they all seemed more focused on getting the attention of vampires, than helping me out, if needed be. I texted Sookie. - What’s Bills number? I think someone texted me, pretending to be him.

She responded quickly. - Who? Are you ok? Where are you?

I wrote back. - No idea. I’m in some place called Fangtasia.

I was still holding my phone, when Ginger returned with my drink, and set it down. She seemed about to say something to me; when suddenly she bowed reverently. “Master…”, she said, sounding like she was having a strange sort of orgasm.

I looked up, and saw that Eric Northman was standing by the table, with the blonde female vampire next to him. He gave me a slight smile, and sat down across from me; relaxing against the backrest of the chair. “Jag är inte din budbärare, bare för at du vil knulla en liten människa!”. The blonde seemed annoyed, but I didn’t understand her words. “Slapna av, Pam. Det här är annorlunda”, Eric said. “Fika på hende, då. I don’t give a shit. Just don’t ask me again”, she snarled. ”Pamela!”, Eric said firmly. “Leave us”.

“What’s up her ass?”, I muttered. “Pam doesn’t take it up the ass; she gives it”, Eric said matter-of-factly. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You texted me…”, I said. “I did”, Eric said. “Go away, Ginger”. The waitress backed away, her eyes still on the floor. “Master. Yes, master”. I raised my brows. “Wow…”. I met Erics eyes hesitantly. “Why am I here?”. “Because I wanted to see you…”, he said. He dipped a finger into my drink, and licked it. “Don’t drink this. Someone put drugs in it”.

I swallowed hard – a sudden flashback striking me, taking me to a place I didn’t want to go. “Liv?”, Eric said. “What?”, I snapped. The vampire seemed taken aback. “You’re very brave”, he said. “I don’t know what you mean”, I muttered. “Speaking to me like that… and the text you sent me back, when you thought I was Bill. You obviously don’t know a lot about vampires”. I shrugged, trying my best to seem at ease with the conversation.

“How did you get my number?”, I asked; pushing the drink away gingerly. “I’m not listed”. “I flew over Bills house, as you wrote it down”, Eric said. “I have very good eyesight. You used a .01 Ultra Black eyeliner”. “That’s kind of creepy”, I said. “You’re a flying, creepy guy”. Eric laughed heartily, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “You’re funny”, he said. “It’s like you have no sense of self-preservation”. “Well, I figure you didn’t go through all the trouble of flying over Bills house to get my number; just so you could kill me”, I said. “At least… I hope you didn’t”. Eric looked towards the bar, at the tender behind it. “Chow, get her a fresh one. Make sure it’s drug free”, he said, so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it. I realized the bartender must be a vampire as well; that was the only way he’d be able to hear him. “You don’t have to… I’m fine, really”. “It’s no trouble", Eric assured me. “This is my bar after all. It’s in my interest to keep the patrons happy". “I’m not a patron…”, I said.

Eric ignored my words. “Your t-shirt… I like it”, he said. “I’m related to the blonde, you know…”. “You’re Swedish?”, I asked. A fresh drink appeared in front of me, and I looked at it hesitantly. “It’s safe”, Eric said. “Yes, I’m originally from Sweden…”. “So, you were speaking… Swedish, before?”. Eric nodded. “You name, Liv; it’s actually the Swedish word for life”. “Huh…”, I muttered. “I always thought it was kind of geriatric”. Erics eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Quite the opposite… It suits you. You seem full of life”. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and took a sip from the straw. The drink was delicious. “And… when are you from? If you don’t mind me asking”. “Are you asking how old I am?”, Eric smiled. I blushed, and took a second sip. “I am a little over 1000 years old”.

I choked on my drink, and suddenly, Eric was next to me; gently patting my back with one hand, and holding mine with the other. “Are you alright?”, he said worriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine”, I croaked. I looked up into his eyes, and saw true concern. “Really”, I smiled. Eric sat back down on the chair opposite me; still holding on to my hand. His own was cool, but not cold. I guessed he’d recently fed.

I bit my lip. “Are you really 1000 years old?”, I asked in a whisper. “Yes”, Eric confirmed. “I was a Viking”. My eyes widened. “Like with the… pillaging, plundering and… raping?”, I said. Eric smiled smugly. “I didn’t need to rape to bed a woman; or a man for that matter”. “Huh…”, I said; and took a deep sip from my drink. “Well, you do have that tall, blonde and handsome thing going for you”. He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “You find me handsome?”, he said. “Every person in this room finds you handsome”, I retorted; rolling my eyes. I looked towards a nearby table, where a young woman with obviously dyed black hair was starring at us. When her eyes darted towards me, she looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out.

“Tell me about you…”, Eric said. “Why?”, I asked. “Because it’s only fair”, the viking-vampire said. “In the last ten minutes, I’ve told you my age, occupation, sexual orientation; and I’ve saved you from getting drugged". I was painfully aware that Eric probably had a million different ways of getting what he wanted from me, but for some strange reason, I didn’t think he’d use any of them. Not yet anyway. None the less, I still didn’t see his reason for wanting to know. “I meant, why are you asking?”, I said.

Eric played absentmindedly with my fingers – or maybe not so absentmindedly; as he seemed to know exactly where and how to stroke my fingers in a way, that sent signals straight to my core. "You’re interesting“, he said. “And Bill interrupted me before I could finish my glamour on you, to get you to tell me". I chuckled softly. “You didn’t glamour me", I said. “Of course I did", Eric retorted. “Sorry, but I think you have little too much faith in your own abilities“.

He let go of my hand, and sat back straight in his chair. For a long time, he didn’t speak, just starred at me, before his pupils suddenly dilated, and a tranquil and yet almost flirtatious expression spread over his face. “Liv…”, he said softly. “Tell me; what’s your favorite sexual position?”. My jaw dropped. “That’s absolutely none of your business!”, I growled. Eric looked completely confused, and even paler than his usual pasty shade. He furrowed his brows, and moved his head forwards; almost crouching in his chair, as to reach my eye-level. “You want to tell me, Liv", he said, his voice alluring. Abso-fucking-lutely I wanted to tell him; but not under our current circumstances. As it was, Eric was being completely inappropriate, and I had no intention of continuing our conversation. I stood up. “Thanks for the drink. Now, if you don’t mind, please go to hell".

I walked towards the door, and made it halfway through the crowd, when suddenly, Eric was standing in front of me. He looked almost enraged, and towered over me menacingly; starring into my eyes so hard, I could almost feel it physically. “Liv. You want to tell me about yourself", he boomed. “I want to go home!”, I hissed, trying to pass the imposing vampire. He moved slightly, making me have to brush against his chest with my shoulder. Eric’s hand was suddenly on my upper arm. I froze in place, as he lifted my hair slightly, breathing in my scent. “What are you?”, he asked in a low voice, his cool breath sending annoyingly pleasurable shivers down my spine. I looked up into his eyes again; and jumped a bit, when his fangs popped out. The deepest, darkest part of me wanted to put my finger to one of them, and see how sharp they were.

“Eric!”, Bills voice boomed over the music. Sookie came out from behind him, walked straight up to the 6’4 inches vampire, and hit him over the shoulder with her purse. “Looks like that’s two dates you’ve ruined tonight”, I said. Eric smiled. “But ours was going so well”, he said; his fangs retracting again. “This wasn’t a date…”, I said. “This was you tricking me into meeting you”, I hissed. “You had another date tonight?”, he asked, darkness ghosting his face. I gave him a sarcastic smile, and pulled my arm out of his grasp, stomping out of the club, past Pam. She looked amused at the situation, and stepped back to let me get to the parking lot.

With shaking hands, I opened my car door. Bill and Sookie weren’t far behind me. “I am very sorry, Liv”, Bill said. “Had I known there was a chance Eric would…”. “Forget it, Bill”, I said. “I’ll take care of the things on your list tomorrow. Right now, I just want to go home… I’m sorry I ruined your date”. “It’s not your fault”, Sookie said earnestly. “Do you want us to follow you home in Bills car?”. “No, I’ll be fine… Just, go salvage whatever you can of your night”, I said. I gave Sookie a half hug, and nodded at Bill.

Eric was staring at my car, as I drove away. I saw him exchanging a few words with Pam, before he went back inside Fangtasia.

---

I had the next day off from Merlotte’s, and after I – once again – slept in, I had plenty of time to take care of my errands for Bill. When I got back home from having dropped of a case of O-neg on his porch, I texted him the info of an electrician and a florist who could help him out with his other requirements.

My mail had arrived while I was gone, and as I got ready for a night of serving beer, I looked through the bills and catalogues; finding among them an envelope without sender. Inside was a picture of a young woman in a seductive pose, wearing very little. I recognized myself immediately. It had been taken my last night at my old job at Sugar and Spice – a night I didn’t remember much from, due to a drink I should never have accepted. I almost fell into a kitchen chair, and shuddered. I put my hand to my chest, remembering the wound I’d earned that night.  

He’d found me. I wasn’t surprised. Though my number and address weren’t listed, if Thomas wanted something, he’d get it; he had a way of talking himself in to things. Either that, or he’d use brute force. The thing that made me confused, was the fact that Thomas wasn’t even supposed to remember me. I was supposed to be just another dancer he’d taken pictures of, at the club.

I was startled when my phone suddenly rang. I picked it up, when I saw it was Sam. “Hey…”, I croaked. “Hey, Luce’… I’m really sorry to ask you this, but Coby has the mumps, and Arlene needs to…”. “You need me tonight?”, I asked, almost hopefully. I didn’t want to be alone. “You’d be doing me a big favor…”, Sam said. “I’ll be there”. “Thanks, cher’. I’ll give you tomorrow off instead”, he replied in a relieved voice. “No problem what so ever”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few”. I hung up, and hurried getting ready for work.

Merlotte’s was full of people; which was pretty typical for a Friday night. The tips would be pretty good, and I wouldn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Sookie handed me a clean apron, and I tied it around my waist, avoiding her gaze. “You seem out of sorts”, she muttered, as I tied up my hair in a bun. “Seem? Or are you listening in…?”, I said. She looked suddenly sad. “I’m sorry, Sookie… It’s been a hard day”. She smiled a little. “I can’t read you as well as I can some other people, you know”, she said. “Whatever comes through, is usually just colors and emotions. But they’re pretty intense, so I try to avoid them”. “Why?”, I asked. “I don’t know”, she shrugged. “It’s just like that with some folks… Makes it easier to be your friend, though”. I squeezed her hand, and walked out to take some orders.

Hoyt and Jason were nursing beers in a corner, and I walked over to check on them. “Everything good here?”. “Much better, now you’re here”, Jason winked. “You know, I saw your car out back. It ain’t looking good. I’d be happy to give you a ride, when you clock out”. “I’m sure you would, but I’m not in the mood for crabs tonight”. Hoyt laughed heartily, and Jason smiled and shook his head. “Any food for you gentlemen?”, I asked. “LaFayette has some gumbo cooking tonight”. “Sounds good. Hoyt?”, Jason said. “Two bowls, then”, Hoyt smiled. “Coming right up”, I said, and took their order to the serving hatch; winking at LaFayette in the kitchen.

For the next few hours, I pushed away all thoughts of possessive men, and focused on earning my wages. Bill stopped by to give Sookie a kiss, and thanked me for my help so far; leaving me another list. “Just some time next week, will be fine”, he said. “You’re welcome to text me, Bill”, I said. “I dislike using the keys to type”, the vampire grumbled. “I prefer the old-fashioned way of writing”. “Did you use a quill?”, I asked, giving him a sly smile. “Just a no. 2 pencil”, he retorted. “And once again; I’m sorry…”. I groaned. “Please, stop… Nothing happened. I’m perfectly fine”.

Sookie gave me a slight look, which Bill caught immediately. “You’re not. What is wrong?”. “Sookie!”, I sighed. “Sorry! You’re pretty much radiating fear, honey”, she said. Bill looked at me earnestly. “I will do my best to keep you safe from Eric”, he said. “I don’t want you to worry about him”. “I’m not scared of Eric… No more than the next person, anyway”, I assured him; and walked towards the bar, to grab a tray of beers. Sookie followed me there. “What, then?”, she asked. I clenched my jaw. “Could you give this to Jane Bodehouse? I’m gonna go take my break”, I said.

I almost ran out the back door, and lit a cigarette. Sam was putting a bag of trash in the container, when I got there. “Everything alright?”, he asked. “Why is everyone asking me that?”, I almost snarled. Sam seemed taken aback. “Sorry… I’m just… It’s been a day”. “We all have those”, Sam said. “You want to talk about it?”. “Not really”, I said.

Sam scratched his head. “How’s it going, working for Bill Compton?”, he asked. “Fine, so far. It’s an easy gig”, I said. “Don’t worry, it won’t get in the way of my work here”. “I know. I just worry about you, is all”, he said. “You’ve had a strange look on your face all night”. I sighed deeply, not wanting to give away too much. “I got word from an old… acquaintance”, I said. “I’d hoped to avoid it”. “Ex?”, Sam muttered. “Not really…”. I swallowed hard. “Sam… If I… If some day I don’t come in to work… It’s not because I’m playing hookie”. “That sounds ominous…”, Sam said. “Just… I like this job. Bon Temps”, I said. “I’m happy here. So, if suddenly, I’m not around… I didn’t just skip town, ok?”. Sam walked up to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Liv, talk to me. What’s going on?”. Sookie stuck her head out. “Sam, we need to call Jane’s son again. She’s passed out on the pool table…”. Sam rolled his eyes, and went back inside, leaving me to smoke in peace.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had a text; from Eric, of all people. - When can I see you again?

I rolled my eyes. - How do I know you’re not watching me now?

The reply came within seconds. - You don’t. But I’m not. Do you want me to? I decided against replying, and went back inside – chiding myself for indeed wanting that.

When I got back home, I collapsed on my bed fully clothed – but not before having checked to see if all windows and doors were safely closed and locked. Even without A/C, I’d rather sweat than risk someone coming into the house while I slept.

My phone vibrated, and when I saw who was calling, I picked it up. “What?”, I said. “Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”, Eric said. Loud music was thundering in the background. I looked at the screen of my phone, and saw that I had multiple unread texts. “Because I was working. And because I didn’t want to”, I said. That last part was a lie. “What are you wearing?”, he asked. “A leather garter belt, and a top hat”, I sneered. “Really?”. I could hear his smile. “No. Goodnight, Eric”. “Read your messages”, he managed to say, before I hung up.

I more or less had to pry my eyes open to read the messages the vampire had sent me. - I’m not used to have my messages ignored. Well, get used to it, I thought. - I could come by your job. Just say the word. - I want to see you soon. When? At least he was asking, and not telling me. That was a step up from what I was used to. - Please. That one must have hurt. I sent him a message back. - I’ll let you know. And if you insist on texting more than a teenage girl, I’ll reply like one. Ttyl lol rofl xoxo

As soon as I’d dropped my phone on the bed, I smacked my forehead. I’d written xo. That thought kept me awake for hours, and I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up again.

---

As soon as I woke a little after noon, I rushed out to handle Bills errands. He’d given me until the week after, but as I saw the picture sent to me laying on my kitchen table, I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in the house. I even called Sam to ask if he was absolutely sure he didn’t need me at the bar; but he all but told me that if he saw me anywhere near Merlotte’s, he’d throw me over his shoulder, and carry me home, so I could enjoy my day off.

A little after sunset, there was a knock on my door, and I was slightly startled to see Eric on my small porch. I swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”, I asked. “I was in the neighborhood; and thought I’d save you the trouble of texting me, when you’d be able to see me”, he said. “Besides, I don’t want you driving that rust bucket all the way to Shreveport again. It’s a death-trap”. He looked towards my car, in the driveway. “You can see me now”, I said. “Wonderful”, he said, and once again dug his eyes into mine. “Invite me in”. “No…”, I said. He once again looked confused. “Why can’t I glamor you?”, he asked. “I don’t know… Maybe you’re impotent”. Eric barred his fangs; making me jump slightly. He looked dangerous. “Not nearly”, he said. “You shouldn’t test me”.

Not wanting him to think he’d scared me too much, I took a hesitant step out of the door, putting less than a foot between us. Eric smelled like nothing I’d ever encountered before. It was crisp, and yet warm; like expensive aftershave and salt water, with an undertone of something I couldn’t define – something musky.

“I don’t understand why you keep wanting to talk to me”, I said. “I get it, I’m human. Blood and sex, and all that… But you have a club full of willing participants to whatever it is you wanna do”. Eric nodded. “I know. It’s infuriating that I feel the need to be here”, he said. “But I think I found a fix for it”. “Oh?”, I croaked, doing my best to ignore the fact that a man, that looked more or less like a GQ model, was currently reaching out his hand to stroke my cheek. As his fingertips touched my skin, my breath hitched. “Yes. See, when I have sex with a human, I usually bore with them pretty quickly”, Eric said. “I thought we should just get it over with, so I can move on”. I took a step back, and my back hit the screen door. “I don’t want to have sex with you!”, I lied. “Of course you do. I’m a very good lover”, Eric smiled. “Now, invite me in, and I’ll undress you”. “Shove it up your ass!”, I said. Eric raised a brow at me. “Well, it’s been a while, but I’m up for it if you are”.

I scrambled to open the screen door, and get back inside the house. My body was screaming at me to give in to the sensation in my lower belly, but I told myself that I had to persist. “You should… go now”, I said. Eric stepped closer to me, and I felt his firm chest against my back. “Why?”, he asked, sounding genuinely confused again. “You’re… imposing”, I croaked, and turned to meet his eyes. They were piercing mine, sending tingles down my spine. “Stop trying to glamour me” “I’m not. It doesn’t seem to work on you”, he said; a hint of regret in his voice. “Though I wonder… would you let me test a theory?”. “What theory?”. Eric smiled. “Just humor me. Pam?”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, when the blonde female vampire suddenly stood next to Eric; and hurried over the threshold, so neither of them could reach me. “What the hell?”, I said. “Yeah, Eric. What the hell? I’ve been waiting behind that tree forever. In my new Jimmy Choo’s”, Pam said. “Be nice, Pam”, Eric said. Pam drew her lips back in an insincere smile. “Hello, Liv. I am very glad to see you”, she said. “Happy?”. She looked out the corner of her eyes at Eric.

Eric gave her a look, and something unspoken passed between them. Pam seemed to shrink in front of me. “Liv, I would like you to let Pam try to glamour you”, he said. “What? No!”, I exclaimed. “I want to know if it’s…”. “Just you?”, I said. For the first time, Eric wouldn’t meet my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Fine. But I’m not coming outside”. Eric nodded. “Pam, try to glamour her. But don’t ask her to come outside where we can reach her”. He was trying to make me feel safe – it was almost endearing.

Pam took a step forward, and looked deep into my eyes. Her voice was soothing. “Liv… You want to invite Eric inside. You want to have sex with him”. I shook my head. “No… Not happening”, I said. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “You… want to invite me inside… Have sex with me”. “No thank you”, I snarled. Pam stepped back, and began laughing. “What the actual fuck?”, she guffawed. “What are you?”. Eric stepped in between us, his back to me. “Thank you, Pamela. You can leave now”, he said. “Eric! She’s…”, Pam began. “Now!”, Eric growled. She disappeared as fast as she’d come.

Eric stood there for a moment, not turning to face me. I was about to close the door, when he spoke again. “I’m making you mine… And getting you a better car”. “The hell, you are", I sputtered. He spun around with wide eyes. “You’re saying… no?”, he asked bemusedly. “I’m not anyone’s; let alone yours”. Eric chuckled at me. “I just claimed you”. “Well you can shove that claim up your ass, as well”, I proclaimed. “You wanted me to tell you about myself”, I said. He didn’t respond, simply stood still and never diverted his eyes from mine. “I left San Diego to get away from a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer… I’m not about to throw myself into the arms of another one who does the same”, I said. “This… guy”, Eric said. “Did he hurt you?”. There was an angry edge to his voice. I looked down, and crossed my arms in front of me. “He did… It’s over. But only because I ran away”, I said. “He… It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want that again”.

For a long moment, he just looked at me; making me swallow to wet my dry mouth. “Alright”, he finally said calmly. “Are we finished?”, I asked, almost in a whisper. “We’re finished”, he said. “For now”. Eric lowered his head, looking earnestly at me. “As long as you say no to me, I won’t do anything”, he said. “I will not force myself on you, Liv”. “Why?”, I asked, genuinely surprised. “Do you want me to? I don’t mind playing games…”, Eric smiled. I shook my head. “Never mind. I thought we were having a moment here, but it’s gone”. I went to close the door in his face. “Liv!”, Eric said; his voice imposing. I halted, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why… But I will not”.

He turned around, and walked down the steps from my small porch. I took a deep breath, before running after him. He heard me coming, and turned around. “Thank you… For at least kind of taking no for an answer”, I said. I tugged at his jacket, to get him to lower his head, and I got on my toes; placing a kiss on his cheek. Once again, I was surprised to find his skin not icy, but simply cool; and I let my lips linger for a moment.

I was about to turn back, when Eric put both his hands on my shoulders, and looked me square in the face. I could tell he wasn’t trying to glamour me. “Be mine”, he said. My breath hitched, and everything in me screamed say yes!. “N-no, Eric… No, I can’t do that”. Eric looked as if I’d slapped him. My phone vibrated, and I took it from my pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Bill… I have to take this".

Erics face dropped, and he let go of me. “Goodnight, sunshine”, he said, and walked away into the darkness. “Eric!”, I called after him. “I regret picking up your keys for you”, Eric replied, his back still to me. “I would have loved to see you bend over”.

---

[dershloop]

Breakfast In Bed

“Snowball! Happy Valentine’s day!” Cole yelled, kicking open Zane’s bedroom door, “I made you breakfast like the amazing, loving and caring boyfriend I am!” He said, walking over to his bed and standing over him.

“Cole, it’s 8 am,” Zane said plainly, rubbing his eyes with a yawn, looking up at his boyfriend and back at the clock next to his bed, that clearly stated it was too early to be awake, especially when it was a Sunday.

“Z, man, bro, dude, I’m begging you. Please eat the breakfast I made you,” Cole said, trying his best to mimic the expression of a kicked puppy.

“I never said I wouldn’t eat it, it’s just that it’s 8 am and you look like you’ve barely slept,” Zane said, sitting up and stretching out his arms out, rolling his shoulders back, listening as the sprockets and joints in his shoulders pop satisfyingly.

“So you will eat it?” Cole said excitedly, looking down nervously at the very full looking tray in his arms. Zane laughed endearingly and moved over in bed, patting the space he’d just been lay in as in indicator that Cole could get in with him and he’d eat breakfast. His eyes lit up and he dashed over, careful not to spill any of the food or coffee onto his white sheets. He lifted the tray off his own lap and placed it on Zane’s carefully. His eyes scanned over the tray, a proud smile growing on his face.

“You never answered the second part of the statement Cole. How much did you sleep last night?” Zane said, looking from the plate of very thick pancakes to the cup of jet black tea. The bowl of strawberries, blueberries and other assorted berries was overflowing, a few toppling out onto the tray itself. He had a feeling there wouldn’t be much fruit left in the monastery until the next big shop from the looks of things. There was however a pot of Zane’s favourite yoghurt. It was a thick greek style yoghurt in the flavour strawberry, with a spoon next to it. That was a nice touch, he thought.

“Not really, I couldn’t sleep,” Cole answered plainly with a shrug.

“Why not?”

“I didn’t have my teddy bear with me,” Cole said, smiling sweetly, resting his head on Zane’s shoulder. Zane laughed, heat beginning to rise to his face. He knew full well Cole was referring to him.

“Why didn’t you just get in bed with me?” Zane said, confused. The nindroid wouldn’t lie, he had had trouble getting to sleep too. He was so used to Cole coming and climbing in bed with him and filling half of his bed, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close that the lack of that last night almost made him sad. Needless to say, his bed had been very, undeniably cold.

“I didn’t want to get out of bed early tomorrow and disturb you! This was supposed to be a complete surprise and an alarm going off at 7 wouldn’t exactly help me.” “Fair, fair. What do you want me to try first then? Tea or the pancakes?” Zane asked, his hand hovering over the fork and knife on the side of the tray.

“Pancakes! You’d be surprised how long it takes to make them, the fuckers never cook evenly it’s so annoying. I only made 3 because they were pretty big so I didn’t want to make you puke or something. Wouldn’t be the best valentines day gift ever if you did,” Cole said with a yawn, pulling the covers up a bit to keep himself warm, not moving his head from Zane’s shoulder.

“Ok, pancakes it is,” Zane said enthusiastically, picking up the fork and pushing them through the small but thick stack, then grabbing some strawberry pieces and eating them with the pancakes. Nice… wasn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe them. Somewhere along the line, he’d forgotten an ingredient or a step but Zane couldn’t pinpoint where. How exactly did one mess up pancakes? However, Zane loved Cole a hell of a lot more than he disliked the taste of them, so powered on.

“And? What do you think?” Cole said, practically beaming that Zane had gone in so quickly for another bight.

“Delicious C,” Zane said, quickly swallowing down his third mouthful, “They’re amazing, so fluffy and uh… tasty!” Zane ate some more fruit with his next forkful, not wanting to subject himself to the taste for any longer than necessary.

“Are you sure? You don’t look as if you’re enjoying them that much,” Cole said hesitantly, raising his head to look at the nindroids face suspiciously.

“I promise you, Cole, they’re delicious. I’m just tired is all. I’ll have some of the tea, that might help wash it down and wake me up,” Zane said quickly, putting down the fork onto his plate and lifting up the tea, hesitantly bringing the cup to his mouth and drinking some. It wasn’t scolding hot, much to Zane’s surprise, and it didn’t taste too bad. A little sweet for his liking but he didn’t mind. Cole had a habit of zoning out and forgetting what he was doing halfway through a task, so he assumed that’s just what happened.

“How do you like the tea?” Cole asked, still not buying into the facade that his pancakes were any good.

“It’s lovely, rocky, I promise. All of this is. I really appreciate it,” Zane said with a smile, leaning towards Cole and pressing a small kiss onto his lips in an attempt to reassure him. Naturally, because this was Cole, it worked and he lay back happily, resting his head back on his shoulder.

Zane ate a few more mouthfuls, packed with fruit of course, before he decided to stop. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the facade of ‘Don’t worry, Love, they’re amazing’, so he ultimately decided to quit while he was ahead. He picked up the spoon and begun eating his yoghurt, savouring the taste of something that wasn’t whatever was in those pancakes. “Did I make too much? You didn’t finish them,” Cole said, looking at the plate with now significantly less pancake than there was a few minutes ago.

“Maybe. But that’s ok gumdrop, I still loved them,” Zane said, putting the now-empty pot down and finishing his tea.

“Popsicle? Snowball? Snowflake?” Cole said with pleading puppy dog eyes, looking at Zane as if he’d never eaten anything in his life.

“Yes, you can eat my leftovers,” Zane said with a laugh, handing him the tray. Cole’s eyes lit up and he picked up the fork, digging into the remained of the pancakes. Zane couldn’t help but think it was a bold move to go without any fruit, but he had to find out they were borderline uneatable somehow, and Zane knew for a fact it wouldn’t be from him breaking the unfortunate news.

Cole put the forkful of pancakes into his mouth, chewing them slowly, pulling a disgusted face before quickly swallowing and grabbing a few strawberries and raspberries to cleanse his mouth.

“That was genuinely disgusting, Z, what the fuck,” Cole said in disdain, looking at the half-empty plate, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Zane gulped and picked up the tray, moving it to the floor next to his bed so it wouldn’t get knocked over and spill over his white sheets.

“You were so excited and you barely slept because of it? I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Zane said with a sigh, looking at Cole in his peripheral vision.

“Oh Snowball you, dummy,” Cole said with a laugh, wrapping his arms around Zane’s neck and throwing himself at him, causing Zane to fall so he was now lying horizontally across his bed. He laughed and wrapped his arms around Cole’s waist. “Move around Z, I want to hug you properly this isn’t comfortable,” He complained. Zane laughed.

“You sir, are a little shit. You threw yourself at me!”

“Silence! I won’t listen to this hearsay!” Cole declared.

“What would you do if I, for instance, didn’t shut up and just kept on talking?” Zane said, pushing himself up and spinning them both around so his back was now to his wall. He smirked, absentmindedly rubbing his hands up and down Cole’s back, merely anticipating what was about to happen.

“I would… do this!” Cole said, pulling himself up and beginning to plant kisses all over Zane’s face and neck. Zane laughed, more and more heat rising to his face.

“Cole you little shit, stop it!” Zane laughed, grabbing Cole’s face between his hands and holding it in front of his own, glaring playfully at him. Cole smiled sweetly as if he didn’t know exactly what he’d just done. “Come here you,” Zane muttered, pulling Cole’s face towards his own and pushed their lips together kissing him softly. Cole quickly sunk into the kiss, smiling and resting his hands on Zane’s waist softly as if he were holding some kind of priceless artefact. Which, in fairness, he was.

Zane pulled away with a smile, running his hands through Cole’s long, messy hair, bringing them to rest over his shoulders.

“Get back in bed, you feel cold and you look exhausted,” Zane said, raising his eyebrows at Cole.

“Wow, thank you for noticing,” Cole said with a yawn, climbing off of Zane’s lap and crawling under the covers. Zane lay back down too, pulling the covers up as to cover his own torso. Cole quickly snuggled up to his boyfriend, resting his head on his chest and listening to the mechanisms Wizz and whurr beneath his skin. Cole wrapped his arms around Zane’s torso and closed his eyes, already falling asleep. Zane rested a hand on his head, gently playing with his hair.

“Good night Snowflake,” Cole muttered wearily, melting under Zane’s fingers as they twirled and fiddled with his hair.

“Goodnight gumball,” Zane said with a small laugh, eventually even falling back to sleep himself.