#i was showing her these GORGEOUS gorgeous high heeled boots very thin heel and they have a lace up detail very sexy and she was like

[ashmp3]

my mom and i were online shopping and she was like "food is so expensive diesel is so expensive we should just spend money on clothes" like yasss pro ana bitches would love you mommy make twitter

[demoneyesanddamagedsouls]

One Way Or Another

Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x F!Reader

Warnings: Helmut Zemo (He needs his own warning), canon typical violence, weapons, smutttt, unprotected sex, piv sex, FATWS spoilers

Summary: Helmut Zemo is someone you just can’t seem to figure out. But is this mysterious man more than meets the eye? What happens when the two of you are thrown into close quarters...

A/N: Ok this is my first Zemo fic I hope y’all enjoy! Let me know if you want me to make this more than one part I feel like I could definitely make more chapters if anyone is interested!

Word Count: 4.2k 

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Kätzchen – kitten (german)

The evening was cool, the breeze from the water surrounding the island of Madripoor whipped through your hair as your cheeks and ears blushed red at the sharp sting of the frigid air. You leaned lightly on the cool steel railing of the large balcony admiring the incredible view from Sharon’s apartment in the heart of the island. The whole city was alight in an incredible neon glow, every building shining a different colour, the reflections of light bouncing off the water surrounding the island making the whole metropolis glitter against the deep black of the night sky. 

The breathtaking scene in front of you easily rivalled some of the incredible stolen art which resided inside the apartment in amongst the clamour of the party. Music drifting from the boom of the speakers out of the ajar door that led to the outside space, the thin glass muffling the heavy noise but not barring the gentle vibrations of the bass that ran through the floor and up your legs.

It had been a long day, the five of you had managed to extract some information about Karli from the elusive Dr Nagel and you were all ready to set out the next day, excluding Sharon of course due to the price on her head. So tonight, they had decided to enjoy themselves. Sharon had already had a party to auction off some of the art planned weeks in advance, so the timing lined up perfectly, giving you all the opportunity to let go and enjoy yourselves before you were thrown into the heat of battle once more. 

You certainly had been enjoying Sharon’s extensive liquor stash, letting the boys pour you drinks throughout the evening, enough that you were feeling a soft buzz of alcohol running through your veins, while your belly warmed itself with the final dregs of a dark spiced liquor which swirled around the glass you held in your fingers that you couldn’t quite remember the name of. You sighed softly, your breath puffing out in front of you in the cool night air, as you simply enjoy the stillness of the moment.

Not a second later, as if you had summoned him purely through the power of thought, you hear the door behind you creak slightly as more of the muffled music begins to pour out of the opened door frame. You hear him walk up to you, the heels of his boots clicking on the crisp stone tiles of the balcony as he approaches you. Feeling the heat of his gaze as if it were a physical touch as he traces the outline of your form with his eyes, moving up the thin stiletto of your patent black heels, up the exposed skin of your calves, your thighs, the soft curve of your ass hidden underneath the short black skirt of your skin tight dress, finally landing his gaze on the soft plush of your cheek as he stands next to you, mirroring your same stance, leaning across the balcony railing. 

You turn to look at him, Helmut Zemo, the man who had been working with you and the boys to help take down the super soldier Flag Smashers. He was wrapped in a lucious black fur trimmed coat; the luxurious fabric draped over his strong shoulders broadening his physique making him look more imposing. All you could think was how broad he would look caging you in underneath his torso in the soft plush of his bedsheets. Beneath the striking coat rested a maroon turtleneck which adorned his torso tapering down to the silver buckle of his belt which secured the slim black slacks which hugged the strong muscle of his legs. You can’t help but envision his strong thighs pressed against the back of yours as he rails you from behind. Fuck. You shake your head attempting to break your train of thought, a hard task when all you can feel is his warm breath tickling the exposed skin of your neck.

You shudder gently at the feeling, which he mistakes for a shiver against the brisk wind, quickly moving to remove his jacket and place it over your shoulders. Suddenly your senses are full of him all at once, the warmth of his body heat that he had created in the jacket, the delicious smell of his cologne filling your nostrils. The gesture is sweet and caring only serving to further confuse you. You had no idea what to make of this man beside you. You couldn’t decide if you should hate him after all the terrible things he’d done, the people he had killed, the violence he had inflicted or, if you should look at him with fresh eyes, as a man who had changed and learnt from his mistakes. The man you had witnessed firsthand here in Madripoor. You knew you couldn’t trust him. Not completely. But something about him lured you in, a burning curiosity to find out what his mysterious persona hid beneath the surface.

Not a single word had passed between you in the minutes that he had come to stand beside you. The air crackled around you both with an unsaid tension thickening the space between you like a fog descending across a field in the early morning. You knew you were staring but you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away from the soft expression that rested in the features of his face, a mixture of concern and curiosity as he looked you over. His gaze rested on yours, holding eye contact with you, as he waited for you to say something, his eyes darting down to the soft plush of your lips as you finally managed to form some words to break the silence. Your filter substantially diluted by the strength of the alcohol you had consumed.

“I just can’t seem to figure you out Zemo.” You say, eyebrows quirked in a questioning manner as you analyse the features of his face. Trying to read his expression as he looks back up catching your gaze in his.

“What’s there to figure out Kätzchen?” He smirks, a teasing quality to his voice as he looks down at you.

You sigh in frustration, narrowing your eyes as if to articulate how you were studying him and his reactions as you spoke, lips moving slowly as you dragged out your words, giving them emphasis, “This whole broody mysterious but sweet thing you have going is not fooling me… I can’t decide if I should hate you or like you.”

He pauses, mulling over your words, “Why not a bit of both?” Quirking his eyebrow as he responds, a close-lipped lopsided grin spreading across his cheeks as you roll your eyes at his retort.

Resigning to the fact that you weren’t going to learn anything by talking his ear off with these probing questions. You lean back removing your elbows from the railing, standing upright once more, still not quite as tall as Zemo even in your reasonably high heels. Pulling Zemo’s warm coat off your shoulders, you grip the gorgeous fur trim as you pass it back to him, shivering slightly at the briskness of the outside air as the soft wool leaves your skin.

“Shall we go back inside and join the party then?” You say eyebrows raised, determined to enjoy the rest of your evening, trying to move past your complete inability to read the man in front of you.

“Let’s, little one. I’ll make you another drink.” He says smiling softly, slipping his coat back on and gesturing to the door with an extended arm.

You pass him your empty glass and strut forward past him and back into the electric energy of the party. Moving through the crowds of people socialising and looking over the beautiful artworks, you make your way through the dim blue light of the room to the illuminated tiles of the dance floor. The space was teeming with people moving to the music swaying in the strobe lights as the upbeat rhythm of a sultry song permeated the air. Washing over you like wave of movement, your body starts to move to the music, the familiar melody causing you to break out into a blissed out smile as you sway your hips to the passion filled lyrics.

Looking around the space as you gyrate to the music, you catch a glimpse of Zemo from behind the bar pouring a semi clear liquid into lovely matching crystal glasses resting on the bench top. He must have felt you watching him because in that moment he flicks his gaze up directly at you, catching you watching him. For some reason you feel drawn to him, knowing how much trouble he is, how dangerous he is. You’ve seen him kill with your own eyes. And yet you can’t help the strong attraction to him, his danger mixed with the softness he showed you. You didn’t even know if he was interested in you like that. But fuck were you interested in him. Throwing your inhibitions to the wind thanks to the bit of liquid courage you had been consuming you hold his gaze, continuing to dance, moving seductively as you sway your hips to the music running your hands over your body.

Tracing your own form with gentle fingertips, you close your eyes for a moment as you bite your bottom lip, enjoying the sensation of your caresses. Blinking as the light of the dance floor floods your vision once more you realise that Zemo had disappeared into the chaos of the crowd. You spin around looking for him, worried that you’d scared him away with your forwardness, suddenly coming face to face with that very grin you had been searching out. Zemo looked down at you, watching your lips form a small ‘o’ in surprise at his proximity as he extended his hand, the drink he had made you resting in his calloused palm. A broad smile breaks across your face as you take the crystal glass out of his hand brushing your fingers purposefully across his skin.

“Turkish Delight,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear, “Irresistible.” A quiet confidence lingering in the air around him as it always did.

You pull the glass up to your lips, closing your eyes once more as you take a deep sip relishing in the delicious taste of rosewater and sugar mixed with the sharp tang of vodka flooding your taste buds. You let out a satisfied moan as you pull the glass away from your lips, looking back up at Zemo through your dark lashes and you catch him tense up slightly at the sound that had just escaped your lips.

The mood shifts as the next song starts to play, a slower melody with a deep baritone voice filling your ears from the speakers. You turn towards the speakers, trying to focus on recognising the song which sounded so familiar, when suddenly you feel an arm wrap around your waist pulling you swiftly into the warmth of the body behind you. Zemo had pulled you flush against him, your back resting against his warm torso, as he gently sipped his matching drink. You are swept up in the feeling of him against your back the feel of his arm over your waist, his splayed hand pressing against your lower stomach, the heat of his palm seeping into your skin through the thin material of your dress, making your cheeks flush a bright red at the effect he was having on you. The two of you sway slowly to the rhythm, your hips resting against his as your ass gently rocked against his thighs, his warm breaths ghosting the shell of your ear, making your skin prickle as he began to softly whisper the lyrics of the song into your ear.

“What's your name?... Who's your daddy?... Is he rich like me?... Has he taken… Any time… To show you what you need to live?” His sultry voice echoes through your head and desire begins to pool in your lower belly. The flush on your cheeks only growing redder as the words resonate with you. Your eyes drift closed as you soak up every part of the moment, letting it fill your senses, the scent of him, the heat radiating off his strong chest, the suggestive words he had whispered into your ear echoing and reverberating as you become lost in that moment in time. It felt as if everything was moving in slow motion, everything was him.

Your eyes are jarred open quickly as you hear the smash of glass nearby as one of Sharon’s drunk guests decides to pick a fight with another and a brawl breaks out on the dance floor. So quickly that you can barely register what is happening. In a state of shock, you look around trying to figure out what to do when Zemo quickly pushes you out of the way of a fist flying towards your face. He grunts slightly at the effort and you hear both of your crystal glasses smashing against the hard tiled floor as he rushes you into a small room just out of reach of the commotion. Still in a state of shock your finally register what was happening. You had been swiftly pulled out of harm’s way and into the small butler’s kitchen tucked away behind the main living space where the party that you had been attending, which had broken out into a full-on brawl, had been located. You suddenly take in the situation you were in, pressed up against the wall behind the door frame caged in behind the broad body of Zemo. He was crowding his body in front of yours out of instinct as he heard guns fire in the adjacent room.

All you can feel is his body pressed against you, protecting you from harm. You watch him as he eyes the doorway listening to the commotion outside, his features strained in focus as he listened out for any action moving in your direction. All you could think in that moment was that this man who was supposed to be dangerous, supposed to be evil, supposed to be the bad guy, had probably just saved your life and was determined to protect you even if it meant him getting hurt or even killed in the process. That was entirely evident in the way he had pulled you out of the crossfire and was currently using his own body to shield you from any impending damage. And fuck if that didn’t make your body heat up with desire and arousal flood your panties.

The attraction that had been mounting between you had just culminated in the ultimate grand gesture and you realised you could not bring yourself to tear your eyes away from him, half of his face illuminated by the soft moonlight streaming in through the door frame as you gazed at him completely entranced.

“Zemo…” you whisper as you trace the sharp angle of his jaw with a delicate finger.

“Kätzchen?” He whips around suddenly at the sound of your voice, panic riddled across his features. “Is something wrong little one? Are you hurt?”

“No no… but you are.” You whisper as you continue tracing his jaw to the place where you realise the man’s fist had collided with his face. The one he had pushed you out of the way of and instead, he had received the blow that probably would have cracked your nose. He winces slightly under your touch and you pinch his chin between your thumb and forefinger, pulling him down to your eye line to analyse the small bruise that was forming at the base of his jawline. He watches you from the corner of his eye as his breathing hitches, scarcely moving as you caress his skin. Tracing the gentle outline of a forming bruise as you feel his searing gaze burn into you, watching your pursed lips and your worried eyes. You run a soothing hand over the bruise, holding his cheek and his jaw in your soft palm as you look back into his eyes.

“Thank you for protecting me.” You whisper with bated breath as you hold his gaze.

His eyes flicking down to your lips as you speak, unable to stop himself. Entranced by the proximity and the way you were touching him, the way your chest heaved in front of him just brushing against his torso. Suddenly he was on you, lips slanting over yours tentative at first, questioning, but as soon as you responded in kind, melting into his touch, the kiss became more bruising, desperate, ravenous. You moaned into his mouth as he ran a hand through the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you even closer. He took this as an opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue. The two of you tangling together as you both explored the warmth behind each other’s lips. His other hand running down the small of your back to grab at the luscious curve of your backside as you ran your hands across the firmness of his chest.

You both pulled apart gasping for breath. Small plumes of air mingling together in the dark of the room. You shouldn’t be doing this, you knew who Zemo was and yet you couldn’t help yourself, you were so excited, turned on even, by the danger, the mystery of the man.

He shook his head at you and whispered breathily, “I’m trouble little one…”

You look into his warm brown eyes slowly turning as black as the shadow of the room. Smirking back at him, the glint of mischief in your pupils evident as you respond, “I like trouble.”

His gaze becomes predatory as your words sink in. Removing the hand from your neck he quickly slams the door closed and locks it behind him taking all the light out of the room apart from a small sliver of moonlight coming in through a skylight above. He pushes you against the wall once more and hungrily slants his lips across yours, capturing you in a delicious but messy kiss, filled with passion and craving. He moves slowly from your lips, down across your jaw and then attaches himself to the pulse point of your neck, biting gently at the soft skin as you moan out in pleasure at the small sharp pain. He wraps his hands around your thighs and lifts you up, holding you against the wall. You respond in kind, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around the crook of his neck, pulling his lips to yours with a sharp tug of his hair. Holding you carefully, his hands wrapped around the muscle of your thighs, he walks you over to the kitchen counter on the other side of the room, sliding you gently onto the cool marble.

He pulls away once more, admiring your already dishevelled state, chest heaving as you catch your breath, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts, your slightly mussed hair falling across the glistening skin of your cheek, the skirt of your dress which had ridden up to reveal a glimpse of your lacy black panties. Fuck you were gorgeous.

“Are you sure you want this Kätzchen?” he says as he regains his own breath.

“Fuck yes I do.” Any inhibition you may have had earlier disappeared, as quick as the sound of the outside world had as soon as the door closed.

Moving slowly towards your figure, he reaches out to the silver press studs that run down your dress, starting at the top of your chest. You let out a small gasp as he touches the visible skin, slowly exposing the matching black lace bra beneath as he undoes the clasps slowly, the metallic clicks the only noise in the room apart from your shallow breathing. He grins up at you completely enthralled by how you were responding to him. He undoes enough clasps to fully reveal your bra and your chest. His movements are that of a man possessed as he traces the swell of your breasts with delicate fingers, leaving prickles of heat in the wake of their touch.

“So delicate, like a rose in full bloom.” He murmured, voice silken as he followed the trail of his fingers with his gaze.

He brings his hands to the front of your dress and pulls it open, one button at a time, the rhythmic click of the clasps bursting was a melody to your ears. Slowly exposing the rest of your body to him as your dress falls off your shoulders, you swiftly pull the rest of the fabric off your wrists, letting it pool around you on the kitchen counter. He slowly makes his way to the crook of your back to unclasp your bra. He makes quick work of the hooks and pulls the thin piece of fabric off you, exposing your chest completely to him. Massaging and squeezing at your breasts, his warm palms feeling exquisite on your nipples, hard in the cold air of the evening and from his ravenous attentions. 

Moving his hands lower, he grips onto your hips with a bruising force, moving his head down to your chest, taking one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking languidly on your pebbled nipple, dragging his teeth across it nibbling lightly making you arch yourself into him, desperate for more. You wanted his mouth all over your skin, everywhere he could reach, his attentions are ravenous as he places a particularly cutting bite to your nipple then swiftly switching his attentions to your other breast, leaving a trail of delicate bites across your collarbone in his wake. You keen into his caresses as he begins to move slowly upwards, marking up your chest, your collarbone, and finally your neck with small red bruises made by his teeth. You revelled in the delicious pain of it, the arousal in your panties starting to drip down your thighs at the feeling of his teeth dragging over your skin.

“You look so beautiful like this, all marked up, showing everyone that you’re mine…” he whispers against your skin, “I wonder how your boys would feel about that…” confidence and lust dripping from his words as he watches you react to him. 

You whimper as he moves his hand down to your cunt, pressing against you with two fingers against the thin lace material, feeling how you had soaked through the fabric.

“It seems you like it too, Kätzchen.” His tongue languishing over every syllable of the little nickname he’d given you as he tugged your soaking panties down your thighs so that they dropped onto the cool stone floor.

You were now completely exposed to him as he stood in front of you fully clothed. You paw at his chest, feeling his strong torso beneath the fabric as you tugged at the lapel of the jacket, slowly dragging it over his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor to join your panties. Understanding your silent plea he pulls the top beneath over his head, revealing his toned yet soft torso to your eager hands. You run your fingers over his skin, tracing the small outlines of his figure with light caresses as you make your way down to the silver buckle of his belt. Deft fingers making quick work of the clasp then making your way to the buttons of his pants with just as much eagerness.

“Zemo… please.” You whine needily. Your craving getting the better of you. You needed him to touch you, needed him to fuck you, needed him to fill up every one of your senses.

He loved the sound of you begging, mesmerised by your desperate touches as you yank the fabric of his slacks along with his boxers down his legs, his member springing free and resting against his stomach.

You lean forward, watching him as you wrap your fingers experimentally around his shaft, swiping your thumb over the tip, red and leaking with small beads of precome.

He batted your hand away, his gaze burning into yours, “I want to feel you Prinzessin.” You nod your head trying to communicate how much you want that as well, unable to form the words under his devouring gaze. Gripping the backs of your thighs, he pulls you to the edge of the kitchen bench, letting the fabric of your dress drop to the floor amongst the other discarded garments. Your bare skin tingles against the cool marble and you draw in a sharp breath at the change in temperature which touches your most sensitive areas. Spreading your legs with exploratory fingers, he admires your form, taking in your soft skin dappled in the small red marks littered across your body.

“All mine…” He whispers as he slots himself between your thighs. Lining himself up at your dripping entrance. 

“Zemo please… please fuck me.” You whimper, desperate to feel more of him. 

Gripping onto your hips with bruising fingers he pushes into you, slowly and carefully. You gasp out as you feel every ridge and vein as he thrusts into you. He starts at a gentle pace, relishing in the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around his length. He fills you up incredibly and you can’t help the noises that escape your throat. 

“Fuck Z-Zemo you feel so fucking good.” You moan out.

You wrap your thighs around his waist begging with your body language for him to go faster, to fuck you until you cant think. He moans at your words and the feeling of your soft skin wrapped around him. The deep guttural noise that had fallen from his lips mixed with the obscene sound of flesh smacking together was intoxicating. 

He moves his hand, pulling at the crook of your knee, changing the angle of your body so he can reach an even deeper spot inside you as he increases his pace to a more intense rhythm. The new position makes you throw your head back in ecstasy as he thrusts into you, giving him the opportunity to lean down and pull your nipple into his mouth with his teeth. You arch your back into his touch, moaning as he assaults your senses with the feeling of him deep inside you and his warm mouth on your skin.

He holds your hip with bruising fingers as he palms at your breast with the other hand. You slowly pull his hand further up wanting him to replicate the grip he had on your hip around your throat. He groaned as you placed his fingers around your throat giving it an experimental squeeze under your guidance. You felt your walls clench around him as his fingers sunk gently into your neck cutting off your breathing ever so slightly.

“Fuck that made you even wetter Kätzchen…” he murmured, entranced by you and the way you reacted to him, “I want you to come for me little one, come all over my cock. I want to feel you come undone for me. SIng for me, little songbird.” He whispered, warm breath fanning the side of your cheek as he tightened his grip on your throat while his other hand snaked down in between the two of you, thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit. 

You relished in the feeling of his fingers, completely overwhelmed by the incredible sensations as you gripped onto the muscles of his back and his bicep, digging your nails in harshly as he plunged into you with bruising force. 

His filthy words ringing in your ear, his cock hitting the back of your cervix just at the right spot, his thumb working continuously on your clit as black spots started to form behind your eyes from his tight grip around the column of your throat. All of it together makes you completely fall apart beneath him, crying out as you ride out the earth shattering orgasm. He moves his hands to your back, tightly holding you upright as he fucks you through your aftershocks, hitting you deep and making you cry out at the oversensitivity. His hips start to stutter as he feels your velvet walls flutter around him, holding his cock in a vice like grip as your whimpers reach his ears. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your shoulder as his orgasm hits him, thrusting slowly as he comes hard, painting your walls with his release. His moans echo in your ears as he fills you up deliciously and all you can feel is him. His body pressed against yours, chest heaving as you both attempt to regain your breath.

Zemo pulls out slowly and you whimper at the loss. Looking down at you, skin slick with a light sheen of sweat as you gazed up at him with hazy eyes, you were slowly coming back down to earth from your high. Gently pushing a stray hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, he smiles, expression soft and warm as he smiles down at you. 

As your vision slowly clears Zemo’s handsome face comes back into focus and you return his soft smile with your own. He has a small flick of stray hair resting on his forehead, his usual clean cut presentation ruined by your roaming hands. You spot some of the fingernail marks you had left across his upper arms and bite your lip, excited by the idea of leaving your own marks on him. 

“I think hate and like make a pretty good combination, don’t you agree little one?” He says as he traces the plethora of marks across your warm skin, running gentle fingers across the small bruises forming across your chest and around your neck. 

You blush at his words as he repeats your earlier sentiment, suddenly becoming shy under his fervent gaze. Helping you off the kitchen counter slowly he holds you gently, keeping you upright as you regain your balance on shaky legs. Zemo grabs a small wash cloth from the other side of the kitchen, soaking it in warm water and quickly bringing it over to clean up the mess between your legs. You smile at the gentle, caring nature he was displaying. 

After cleaning himself up he pulls on his boxers and trousers, looking over at you as he sees you reach for your lacy undergarments. Reaching out, he grabs your wrist as you clutch your panties and bra. 

“Don’t put these back on Kätzchen… I-I want you to walk out of here without them.” He murmurs with lust blown eyes as he pulls your dress off the floor and begins to dress you in it, “I want to be the only one to know that all you wear underneath that tight fabric are... my marks…”

You shiver under his touch as he buttons up the front of your dress. Picking up his coat he gently wraps it around your shoulders, letting the fur rest around the soft skin of your neck as the soft outlines of his grip begin to appear on your throat. “There we go, my little songbird. hidden... only for me…” he says as he strokes the lapel next to your cheek, straightening the fabric.

 You watch him as he pulls the top back over his head and combs his hair back into position out of his face. Grinning up at him you say, voice sultry and warm, “Maybe I’ll see you later Zemo.”

“If that is what you wish little one… how could I say no to such a good girl...” He whispers in your ear as he suddenly disappears out the door, smirking with a confidence only he could pull off. 

You feel desire lick up in your belly again at his quiet promise. This man would be the death of you… one way or another...

[multibug]

Passion Fruit Lip Gloss

AO3

HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY MY LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE U SO MUCH @emsylcatac

tags: identity reveal, fluff, kissing, aged-up characters, slight crack

Marinette adjusts the bedazzled party hat atop her head, the bright gold a stark contrast to her jet black hair. It doesn’t exactly go with her outfit of choice, though she’s not necessarily angry at it. 

It was either that or the bedazzled green tiny cowboy hat.-

(“Green?!” she had asked Alya, when she was showing Marinette ideas about what to do for the hats.

“For our school colors, silly. We probably won’t use them anyway.” 

Alya did end up using them in the end.) 

Marinette’s wearing a peach-colored long-sleeve silk button up with thin red and white stripes vertically lining it. It’s tucked into a pair of black shorts with a leather belt. 

In a moment of pure hastiness, she had chosen her tallest thigh high black heels, with a heel that raised her three full inches over her normal height. 

A small beret keeps one side of her hair pinned back so her ear is exposed. She tied a thin choker around her neck to complete the look and a small touch of makeup with glossy lips. 

It’s passion fruit flavor. 

The clock hanging on the wall reads 23h00, giving Marinette a good hour and a half before she can beg off feigning tiredness as her excuse so Alya doesn’t call her a party pooper. It’s not that Marinette doesn’t like to party per say, it’s that she’s not exactly the third wheel type. 

She’s had more than enough of it the last few days, thank you very much. 

All of their friends are paired up with someone, whether it’s platonic or not. Alya and Nino, Kim and Ondine, Luka and XY—a big shocker to all of their friends with how much Luka despised him back in the day. There’s the obvious Juleka and Rose still holding strong, Kagami and Chloé, another eye-opener when they revealed it to their friends earlier last month. 

Ivan and Mylène, who endured a long-distance relationship for a while before Ivan and his family moved back to Paris in August. Nathaniel and Marc, who sadly weren’t around a lot to cause Marinette much of a heartache, but enough nonetheless. 

Even Alix and Max, two entirely platonic friends, were enough to make Marinette feel like she was third wheeling. 

They aren’t doing it on purpose, at least Marinette thinks they aren’t, yet the longing to have someone on this chilly New Years Eve is almost unbearable. Almost. 

A mix of something fruity and strong loiters in her hand long enough to help kick the feeling. 

“Girl, what are you doing all the way over here by yourself?” Alya gently bumps her hip into Marinette’s, eyeing her over the top of her straw as she takes a sip of her drink. “You’ve been off all night!” 

Alya’s cowboy hat is nearly slipping off her head at this point, though it looks as though the redhead hasn’t noticed. 

Marinette stifles a giggle, shoving her half-filled drink into Alya’s free hand. She watches in bemusement as part of the drink sloshes to the floor and goes about fixing the small hat on top of Alya’s head. “There! All fixed.” 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to avoid my question,” Alya remarks with a sharply raised eyebrow. 

“Me? Trying to avoid your question? Alya, you must be drunker than you think!” Marinette quickly takes the drink back from Alya’s hand and downs the rest of it, throwing an overly enthusiastic thumbs up in its wake. 

“I’m on my first drink, M,” Alya deadpans. 

Pursing her lips together, Marinette shrugs her shoulder sheepishly. “Sorry?” 

The song changes from a slower song to a more upbeat one, the accompanying lights Nino installed in his and Alya’s apartment changing to the tune of it. 

Alya knocks back the rest of her drink and slams the cup onto a nearby counter, a devious glint in her eyes. 

Oh no. 

“Come dance with me, M!” Her hand encircles Marinette’s wrist, tugging her onto the makeshift dance floor whether Marinette wants to or not. 

Marinette nearly trips over her heels in an attempt to keep up with Alya’s longer legs, knowing it's fruitless to argue with Alya when she has her mind set to something. 

Out of the corner of her eye, a familiar tall blond squeezes past them with relative ease, Marinette briefly making eye contact with them. Time feels as though it slows down, Marinette’s lips parting slightly as she peers into the bright eyes of Adrien, who she hasn’t seen since Nino threw him a spectacular 19th birthday party in September. 

A birthday party that Marinette still can’t remember to this day. 

All she recalls is getting extremely plastered after seeing Adrien pictured with a girl in his newest edition of Vogue Paris. He hadn’t spoken about whether the girl was his girlfriend at the time, yet seeing them together had her feeling as though she was on fire. 

Months of Marinette working towards getting over him just for her to realize it’s seemingly useless. 

He’s always going to have a special place in her heart, she suspects. 

His eyes soften as soon as he realizes it's her, his lips curving into a beautiful smile that outperforms all of his photoshoot pictures by a landslide. His hair’s grown slightly longer since she’s last seen him, curling around the back of his ear—a bit reminiscent of their collège days. 

Adrien’s still just as gorgeous as she remembers. 

“You look good,” she squeaks out over the bass of the music, inwardly screaming at herself to shut up. 

“Thank you—” he cuts himself off as Alya drags Marinette across the room, his hand outstretched in reaching towards her. 

Gosh, how she yearns to see if it’s as soft as it looks, even in the dim multi-colored lighting. 

“Honey, I think the liquor is getting to you,” Alya whisper-yells into her ear, a tiny smirk lingering on her face. 

Marinette rolls her eyes and shakes her head, the party hat sliding with the movement. “No way, Al! I haven’t been drinking like that. Only enough for some liquid courage, you know?” 

Just then, she trips over the heel of her boot and nearly forces them to the floor from using Alya as leverage. Thankfully, Alya was standing close enough to the wall to support them before that happened. 

“Sure, babe. I’ll make sure either Nino or I take you home later.” 

Sticking her tongue out at Alya, she sets her empty drink onto the nearest flat surface and throws her arms around Alya’s neck, losing herself to the beat of the music. Her hips move in time with the songs, some she faintly remembers, and others she’s never heard of. 

Alya’s close enough to her that she begins to feel a bit sweaty as the songs pass. 

At some point while Hot in Herre by Nelly is playing, Nino saddles up to them with drinks in his hands. 

“Babe, I think she’s had enough,”Alya all but snaps.

Nino shoots her a look that says relax without actually saying it. 

“Thanks, Nino! You’re a real pal.” Marinette loops her arm through his and leans her head against his bicep, taking a sip from the drink he gives her. “Yuck, water.” 

“Yeah, you are a real pal,” Alya says with a fond grin, pressing a slightly sweaty kiss to his cheek. “Thanks, love.” 

Marinette huffs. “I take it back. You’re not my pal.” She ruins this statement by tightening her grip on his arm. 

“Ooh, she’s clingy tonight. Are you drunk, Nette?” 

“I’m not drunk. I’m just abnormally tipsy is all! I think it might just be hitting me now. Oh dear, maybe the water is a good idea.” Frowning, she sips at the water with her nose scrunched, a small pout forming on her face. 

Raising her arm up to stare at the watch on her hand, she squints her eyes and is barely able to make out the time: 23h50. 

Another New Years Eve, another kissless year. 

“Hey guys! Kim is looking for you two. He said something about a major spill in the kitchen?” 

It’s Adrien, dressed in a light blue—is that Givenchy?!—cotton button-up with yellow and green flowers scattered on it. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the shirt itself is tucked into a pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of brown chelsea boots. 

It suits him well, so much so that she clenches her jaw to stop it from dropping.

Snap out of it. 

Marinette blinks owlishly at Adrien, the liquor causing her head to feel fuzzy. 

“I don’t want to leave Nette alone—”

Adrien laughs softly, hands shoved into his pockets as he interrupts, “Nino, I can take care of Mar while you guys go help Kim, yeah?” 

“I am not a child.” Marinette detaches herself from Nino and stands proudly, chin held high. “I can take care of myself!” 

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Adrien replies gently, as to not spook her. “I’ll just be around to make sure you’re okay in the process, is that cool?” 

He’s so nice. It warms her heart. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Cool, let’s go.” He slings an arm over her shoulder languidly and smiles down at her. 

Her heart races. 

“Do you want to go onto the balcony to watch the fireworks? Nino and Alya said it’s off limits, but I’m sure they’ll make an exception for us, right guys?” 

Alya winks over at Marinette as Adrien’s head turns away to glance at Nino, and she replies, “Yeah, go for it.” 

A blush rises on her cheeks, heat stinging her face. She’s going to kill Alya. 

“C’mon, Mar, we’re out this bitch.” Adrien steers them over to the balcony and easily has them through the sliding doors within seconds.

It drowns out the party lingering behind them. 

Glancing down at her wrist, Marinette notes that her watch reads 23h55. Five minutes until midnight. Time feels as though it’s gone so fast yet so slow, strangely enough. 

She shivers, though the sensation is mostly coming from her stockings as her shirt’s fairly thick. She’s surprised when she feels a weight on her shoulders. 

Out of thin air, Adrien produces a heavy bomber jacket that warms her to the core immediately. Maybe he grabbed it on their way out without her realizing it? Whatever the case may be, she’s very grateful for the heat seeping into her body while they’re out in the frigid Parisian air. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs in response, her arms crossing to grab either side of the jacket and hold it around her body. 

“Of course,” he replies, shooting her the same smile from earlier. 

It warms her more than the jacket does. 

“You know,” he starts, hands twitching on the balcony railing, as he glances from the beautiful city view to her face. “I have so much to talk to you about. So much to say. Now isn’t the right time obviously, as you’ve been drinking—”

Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m perfectly coherent, Adrien.” 

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” he defends easily, his arm groping her elbow to ground her. “I’m just saying that I think this is a conversation where both of us should be completely sober and open to hearing the topic at hand.” 

What does he mean by that? She’s not sure where she should be confused and worried or elated that he wants to talk to her about something serious. Either way, it’s puzzling her already fuzzy brain to the point where she bites down on her lower lip and lets out a huff unknowingly. 

“Is it bad?” she finally asks, eyes flickering to her watch. 

23h58. 

“No, no! It’s not bad at all.” He squeezes her elbow reassuringly and smiles warmly at her, eyes glittering even in the dim light that shines above them. “I’m hoping it’ll be a good conversation, though I want you to remember it. That’s why I’m waiting.” 

Waiting. Good. it’s good. For a good conversation. Ugh. Her brain hurts. 

“Okay,” Marinette murmurs, blinking up at him slightly confused. She returns the smile once she notices his, it being too contagious for her not to. “Okay, I believe you.” 

He hasn’t removed his hand from her elbow. She hasn’t shaken him off either. 

Beyond them, miles and miles away, in the sea of twinkling lights and crowds of people, fireworks explode into the night sky as bright sensations. They light up the dark with their vibrant colors and intoxicating patterns, making it irresistibly hard to look away. 

The second she does, her eyes are drawn to another light, this one alive. 

Adrien, who is watching the fireworks with an expression of wonder. A tilt to his eyebrows and a small drop of his jaw, cheekbones dipping high with the shadow of the night. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asks, rather than wishing him a Happy New Years. Rather than stare at the beautiful swirls and patterns happening adjacent to her. She’s too focused on the beautiful boy in front of her, whether he knows she’s talking about him or not. 

It has to be said.

He lets out a small chuckle and nods his head, free hand rubbing at the back of his head as he whispers, “Yeah, it sure is.” 

“Bonne Année, Adrien, “ she whispers, so gently that she’s unsure as to if he’s heard it. 

Wonder-filled eyes flickering over to her helps in answering her question.. He grins impossibly wide, all of his teeth showing so it’s nearly comical, yet it’s so unabashedly Adrien that she can’t help but return it for a second time tonight.

Adrien leans in, and for a second, Marinette truly thinks he’s going to kiss her. Her heart starts stuttering and the color the cold had ripped from her returns to her body so fast it feels like whiplash. 

He doesn’t kiss her. 

And yet, that isn’t the exact truth either, is it?

Lips brush against the apple of her cheek, so light that the touch feels both hot and cold simultaneously. It sends shivers throughout her body and the spot on her skin that his lips linger on burns hotter than the temperature of the sun. 

She can’t think. Her brain is complete mush.

The tip of his cold nose nudges against her cheek afterwards briefly as he leans in to whisper into her ear, “Bonne Année to you as well, Marinette.” 

Her heart continues to flutter until she falls asleep minutes later, curled up in his jacket all while leaning on him.

---

Daylight shines in through the slits of her blinds faster than Marinette would’ve liked, considering the horrible ache in her head. Except, she can’t exactly remember how she made it back to her apartment, which is a weird feat for her. 

She rarely drinks enough to where she doesn’t remember what’s happening—Adrien’s birthday party being an anomaly. 

How did she make it home yesterday? 

Hm, maybe it was Alya or Nino? They aren’t the type to abandon one another in their times of need. even in times of absolute peril. There’s no way they didn’t have some part in getting her home, even if it meant physically seeing that she made it into her apartment building before leaving.

The thought makes her feel all fuzzy inside. 

It could’ve been any of their friends at the party, if she’s honest. She doesn’t remember anything after Hot in Herre played on the dancefloor; hopefully bits and pieces come back as time goes on. 

Oh well, it mustn’t be that important.

Peeling open an eye has her glancing over at her nightstand, a bottle of paracetamol and a glass of water sitting neatly on her otherwise messy cupboard. She makes a move to grab the bottle and water when movement near her balcony door has her freezing in place. 

Chat Noir is standing there, back turned to her—she can even recognize him in horribly-taken photographs—as though he’s trying to sneak out. He turns to glance back at her and she soundly slips her eyes shut, feigning sleep. 

As her balcony door creaks, her eyes open and she watches Chat shut the door and bounce off the balcony with his staff. 

“Tikki?” 

Her small, red friend flies out from her little nest. “Yes, Marinette?” 

“Was Chat Noir just in my room?” Her voice is thick with sleep and slightly hoarse. 

Tikki’s eyes widen and she glances around the room nervously. “No? Were you dreaming? Chat Noir was most definitely not in here!” 

Marinette’s eyes squint up at her. “Don’t lie to me. I just saw him!” 

“Well, then why did you ask me?” Tikki whines, deflating a bit as she floats closer to Marinette. “Yes, Chat Noir was here. If you want to know more, I’ll tell you as you are the Guardian and it’s your decision, but if you don’t, I won’t utter a word.” 

“Will it jeopardize me knowing his identity? I wouldn’t want to do that to him,” Marinette worries, using her thumb and forefinger to toy with her lower lip. 

Stroking her chin thoughtfully, Tikki shrugs. “It may. I can’t say yes or no for sure. It would have to be a risk you’re willing to take.” 

“Ugh, no. I’m not going to do that to him. It wouldn’t be fair.” Marinette sighs, finally opening the bottle of paracetamol and downing two with large gulps of water. “Though I am curious.” 

“As they say, curiosity killed the cat!” Tikki replies with a giggle. 

Face-palming, Marinette groans aloud. “Oh no. He’s rubbing off on you too!” 

---

“Girl, I’m surprised you haven’t called me,” Alya tells her, a few days later, when the New Years resolution goals have already lost their momentum. “I figured I’d get a phone call as soon as you got home.” 

“What are you talking about, Als? Sorry, hold on.” Marinette pauses, readjusting the phone between her ear and shoulder. Her classes haven’t let back in for the semester, yet she’s trying to get a headstart on pinning a new design she’s working on so she doesn’t fall behind. “Okay, go on. I have my brain screwed in now.” 

Things aren’t going according to plan, obviously. 

Alya snorts. “With you and Adrien, duh! Do you seriously not remember it? I thought you weren’t plastered.” 

“I wasn’t plastered! I guess I was just more tipsy than I thought I was.” 

“So, you were drunk?” 

“Shut up.” 

Letting out another round of laughter, Alya says, “Well, I can fill you in if you’d like. It’s pretty juicy.” 

“I don’t know if I want to know,” Marinette groans, rubbing an exasperated hand over her face. 

“Oh come on! It’s not even bad! You did pretty well considering the circumstances!” 

A pin falls to the floor at Alya’s word, forcing Marinette to tell her friend to hold on again. Three minutes later, she successfully finds the pin that somehow hid under the mannequin stand where she couldn’t see it. 

Lucky? Pft. Not Marinette.

“You were saying?” Marinette asks.

Alya fills her in on all of the details rather quickly, from Adrien whisking her away while still being a gentleman about it to them having alone time on the balcony. The story lasts all of a minute, even with Alya’s expertise in story-telling, and it has Marinette’s heart fluttering. 

The puzzle pieces start to connect. 

“Als, I just remembered what happened on the balcony,” Marinette says, eyes slightly wide. 

“Bitch, you better tell me right the fuck now or I’m going to come over to your apartment and sit on you.” 

“You say that as if it’s a threat.” 

“Marinette!” 

Marinette lets out a snort and slaps her knee. She sets the last pin before rolling the mannequin back into its temporary home for the night. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’m just playing around, Als!” 

“I love you, babe, but you’re killing me here.” 

“Sorry,” she replies, though she’s really not. 

“.....Marinette?” 

“Oh! Right!” Marinette can hear Alya face-palming over the phone. “Well, all I remember is us talking and him telling me that he has to talk to me about something important. I don’t really remember much else but he kissed me on the cheek, Alya.”

Alya squeals—a sound Marinette’s never heard come from her mouth—and a jostling noise comes from her end. “Holy fuck, M! That’s amazing!” 

“Right? At first I thought he was going to kiss me, but a cheek kiss is just as good nonetheless!” 

“Babe, you were drunk. It’s a good thing he didn’t kiss you. That means he respects you, regardless of whether there’s any feelings or not there.” 

Marinette lets out a small laugh, her heart swelling at Alya’s words. “You always know how to make situations better, don’t you?” 

“It’s kind of my job,” Alya replies. 

“And I love you for it.” 

Alya blows a smooch over the phone. “Mwah! Right back at you.” She pauses, then quickly continues, “Oh! Did he say anything when he left your apartment after he dropped you off?” 

Wait, what? 

Marinette has no recollection of this happening whatsoever. She faintly remembers falling asleep against him—he was just so warm, okay?—but him taking her home? Alya has to be mistaken.

“He took me home? Are you sure? I don’t remember that.” 

“Yeah, he specifically told Nino and I that he’d take you home and then sent us a picture of you tucked in bed that night to ease my worrying. You know how much of a motherly hen I can be sometimes.” 

None of it makes sense. Even if he did take her home that night, why was Chat Noir in her room early in the morning? 

Unless…

No. There’s no way. Absolutely no way that she’s been this blind. No way that Marinette’s this lucky. 

She’d know if her two favorite people in the world—excluding Alya and Nino—were the same person, right? There’s no way that the miraculous could’ve hidden it that well from her that she wouldn’t have noticed.

Except maybe... It had? 

It comes together like whiplash. All of their mannerisms. From the way both Chat and Adrien rub their necks when they’re nervous, or when they make jokes but immediately retract them so as to not hurt the person’s feelings. Both of them having a rough home life and awful dads. 

Piercing green eyes that remind Marinete of a home away from home. 

It reminds her of those times in collège and lycée when Adrien would disappear and reappear whenever she would. She had attributed it to him being afraid of the akumas and finding somewhere safe to hide that entire time. It’s not like it was her place to judge anyone’s ways to cope with what was happening!

The quirks that the both of them share. Two halves of a whole. They merge together beautifully in her mind, filling a void she hadn’t known existed until now. 

Her heart is so, so full. 

“Als. I think I just had the world’s biggest revelation,” she breathes out, sounding absolutely lovesick. 

“What is it?” Nino’s yelling about something incoherent in the background, and Marinette can just faintly hear Adrien’s voice.

“I think I’m in love with Adrien.” Her stomach flutters at her words. 

Alya splutters out a hearty laugh. “Oh, M. We’ve been knew.” 

---

Three days. Marinette’s lived with her secret for three whole days and she’s losing it. 

She begged off spending time with Alya, Nino, and Adrien to try and gather her thoughts. Adrien being Chat is the best possible outcome for a partner she could’ve ever dreamed of, but she wants to tell him how much he means to her without fumbling over her words too much. 

It’ll probably still happen. He is Adrien, for crying out loud.  

Earlier, Marinette transformed so she could write some notes down in her compact in case she gets too flustered. Adrien’s nice enough that he won’t judge her for it, so she’s not too worried.

After a quick application of her favorite passion fruit flavor lip gloss, she sets off for their patrol meetup point. 

“Tikki, I’m so nervous,” she says. 

No response. Yes,. Marinette’s aware that her kwami can’t hear her or speak to her while she’s suited up, yet the hope still lingers for some absurd reason. 

Marinette wholeheartedly blames the nerves.

Spotting Chat—Adrien is difficult. He blends into the shadows so easily that Marinette nearly falls off the building when he blinks his eyes open. She’s lucky that he has fast reflexes to catch her by the waist, because with how out of it she’s been today, she might’ve forgotten to use her yo-yo. 

“Bug! It’s so nice of you to drop in.” 

Oh no. His jokes just make him more attractive. She’s fucked.

Marinette’s hands fall to his biceps, and she’s unsure as to if she wants to tug him closer or push him away at that awful joke that has her heart racing. A look of surprise crosses his face and she squeaks, ducking out of his grip. 

“Thanks,” she replies quietly. 

“You didn’t make fun of my joke. Are you okay?” Concern etches its way onto his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette sees his fingers twitch in her direction. He stops himself as soon as he notices, choosing instead to idly twist the ring on his finger. 

Taking a deep breath, she places her hand over his restless one. “Relax, kitty. I’m okay. Just nervous, because I have to talk to you about something.” 

His eyes widen at her words, lips parting as he exhales a breath. She faintly feels it on her face as he says, “I have something to tell you too. It’s kind of urgent.” 

“You can go first, okay? I can wait a little while longer.” 

Adrien nods, tilting his head to the side with a cute smile on his face. “How much do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Marinette responds instantly. 

It isn’t a lie, either. She genuinely trusts him with her life. Transformed, detransformed, heck, she trusts him blindfolded at this point. 

He nods his head at her words and starts towards her, arms outstretched. Even as he scoops her up into his arms, her trust in him is unabated. “Hold onto me tight and don’t open your eyes until I tell you to, alright?”

“Alright,” she echoes. 

Then, Adrien’s off, running over rooftops at speeds that seem unimaginable when it isn't of her own doing. Her ponytail whips about in the frigid air, Marinette using his neck as a shield from the harsh wind. 

She’s thrown back to Glaciator, where she and Adrien spoke about misfortunes and missed opportunities. He ended up showing her a beautiful scene atop a nearby rooftop, as both Ladybug and Marinette. Thinking back, her racing heart should’ve been a sign that her feelings for Chat weren’t platonic, yet it took years of walking on eggshells for one of them to finally crack. 

“We’re almost there. You good down there?” 

“I’m fine,” she says, laughing into his suit. “This isn’t where I find out you’re going to drop me off a building as a prank, is it?” 

He scoffs, softly landing on what she assumes to be another rooftop. “Hardy har har, Bugaboo.” 

The sound of a door opening and closing lets her know they’ve arrived—apparently it wasn’t a rooftop—and the temptation to look around is higher than she expected. She waits for his approval, wanting him to trust her as much as she trusts him. 

“I’m going to set you down now, okay?” 

Marinette nods into his neck, extending her legs so she can place them on the floor as he lowers her. Her arms stay wrapped around his neck, while her eyes continue to stay closed. 

“I’m going to step back and then you can look.” Adrien lingers for a brief moment, breath fanning over Marinette’s face. 

As he shifts away from her, her arms drop to her sides. Her eyes blink open seconds later and she peers around the bright room a little dazedly. 

They’re in her shared apartment with Alya—in her room. 

Younger Marinette would be freaking out about having Adrien Agreste in her room. 

(Older Marinette isn’t faring much better.) 

For some strange reason, Adrien knowing her identity never popped into her head when he said he had to talk to her. She had no clue as to what it could’ve been—especially not that.

“Oh,” Marinette breathes. 

“Please don’t be mad,” he rushes out, hands shaking about in front of him in a nervous manner. “I couldn’t figure out how to tell you that I know. And I didn’t mean to find out! I swear! It kind of just happened? I can’t even tell you how I found out unless you’re willing to know my identity too—gosh, I’m going to stop talking now.” 

Seeing him so jittery helps to calm the rattling of her heart.

Marinette wordlessly grabs his hand and brings him over to the fluffy rug in the center of her room. She flops on top of it and criss-crosses her legs so he has enough room to do the same opposite her. 

He follows, albeit a confused expression lingers on his face. 

Their hands stay joined together, a nice weight resting on her knee. The tip of his claw is rubbing small circles into her palm, whether he notices it or not. 

“I’m not mad,” she says, the softest of smiles spreading onto her cheeks. “I could never be mad at you, kitty.” 

Adrien lets out a sigh of relief and squeezes her hand, her heart flipping at the fond look he gives her. “Good, good.” 

They stare at one another for a moment too long, before Marinette murmurs fuck it under her breath and detarnsforms. 

His suit is oddly cool against her bare knee, his eyes flickering to their hands then back up to her face. He licks at his lips and breathes out, “Oh.” 

“Hi,” she greets, with a small wave of her free hand. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurts out. 

Marinette lets out a surprised laugh, red peeking out under the dip of his mask. Her voice is teasing as she says,“Thank you, I can’t tell if you’re trying to make me blush or not.” 

“Marinette, please.” 

Hearing him say her name has her heart fluttering, and she detangles their hands to push up onto her knees, crawling towards him. She nudges his legs apart so she can fit between them, arms wrapping around his neck. Her cheek presses against his, the cool material of his suit helping to soothe her burning cheeks. 

Even with the suit protecting him, she can feel the thumping of his heart against her chest. 

“You wanna know my secret?” she asks faintly, as his hands move to settle on her back. 

“Yes, tell me.” His claws rest lightly against the fabric of her shirt. 

Her nose brushes against the tip of his ear and she feels him shudder. “I think you’re really, really cute, Adrien.” 

“Plagg, claws off.” The transformation light has her eyes slipping shut briefly. When she reopens them, Adrien’s sat in front of her with a blinding smile on his face. “Hi.” 

For some reason, she’s brought to tears by the situation. She holds them back the best she can. “Hey.” 

She’s just so happy. 

“I’m so glad it’s you, by the way,” Adrien professes, blinking back his own set of tears. “Like I know I’ve known for a while and all, but this still feels like finding out for the first time.”

“Are you trying to make me cry? You asshole,” she whines, tears sliding down her face.

Before she can reach up and wipe them away on her own, Adrien’s hand is there to do it for her. His touch is so gentle, and instead of returning to its previous position on her back, he tucks her hair behind her ear.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Adrien. You mean so much to me. And to know that two of my favorite people are the same person? How could I be so lucky?” 

“Two of your favorite people?” His head tilts to the side cutely, his hand idly stroking her jaw. 

A blush returns to her face as she replies, “Yeah, I’m shocked you didn’t know, if I’m honest. I was so obvious about it! I’ve liked you as Adrien for so long, and then as soon as I realized that you’re Chat, all of my feelings for Chat were brought to light.” 

“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” he murmurs, licking at his lips. 

“Oh, shut up. Don’t tease me!” 

“I’m not teasing you, Mar! You’re just really cute!” 

Oh god. Her face hides in his shoulder as she emits a small groan, gripping the fabric of his sweatshirt. “I’m going to pass out if you keep talking about me like this.” 

Adrien lets out a laugh that vibrates against her chest. “Well, I don’t want you to pass out, but I need you to know how much I like you.” 

“Adrien,” Marinette squeaks, face digging into his shoulder. 

“Marinette,” Adrien echoes. 

Slowly, she raises her head to shoot a pouty look in his direction. “You’re mean.” 

“You don’t think I’m mean,” he starts, a devious glint in his eyes. Uh oh. “You like me.” 

Marinette’s heart flips as his words, her lip only jutting out further. She tries to maneuver out of his arms, yet he doesn’t budge,  his hand rubbing soothing circles against her back. “I take it back.” 

“No, you’re not allowed to do that. I will cry again!” He widens his slightly bloodshot eyes to prove his point.

“How did you even find out?” she asks, smoothly changing the subject.

“You told me. At my birthday party. You were drunk, so I sat with you for a while and you started rambling about things that didn’t really make sense—”

“Oh no.” 

He sends her a small smile, then says, “Yeah, I hadn’t really believed that you were Ladybug at that point because you were really drunk, yet you mentioned our patrol meeting spot for the week and called ‘Chat’ your annoyingly hot partner that has a nice ass and it clicked.” 

“That’s it. I’m leaving and never coming back. Why am I so embarrassing? Annoyingly hot partner that has a nice ass? I could’ve lived without knowing I said that to you!” Her forehead drops to lean against his cheek. 

“It was cute! You’re cute and I like you so much, yeah?” His head turns so he can make eye contact with her, their noises brushing with how close they are to one another. 

Marinette really wants to kiss him. 

“Can I kiss you?” she asks, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she awaits his response.

“Of course. You really didn’t have to ask, because I’d let you kiss me any day of the week, but I think it’s really nice that you did ask—”

She cuts off his nervous rambling by kissing him, her hand sliding up into his hair at the base of his neck. Her heart feels like it’s about to burst out of her chest. 

He tastes like flavored lip balm, hand moving from the dip of her back to her hip to hold her steady. 

He tastes familiar. 

It’s weird to think of. She kissed him when Kim became akumatized. According to the picture Alya showed her after hers and Nino’s joint akumatization, they had kissed for whatever reason. 

Their almost kisses come to mind and she feels a different type of heat rise on her cheeks. 

Marinette pulls back with a groan, nearly squeaking as Adrien follows her blindly to press a chaste kiss to her mouth. He lets her slip out of his arms and shove her face into the carpet, a hand trailing gently over her back. 

“Was it that bad?” he jokes, sifting his other hand through her hair. 

“No, oh my gosh. It was everything I’ve ever dreamed of! Your lips are really soft! I just thought of how I tried to kiss you when you faked being a statue all those years ago and now I’m embarrassed!” 

“You’re the cutest ever,” he says, flopping onto his side to lay next to her. He brushes his lips over the shell of her ear and nudges at her cheek with his nose. “Don’t be embarrassed! I’ve said and done so many things in front of you that could be considered embarrassing, but because it’s you, I don’t care.” 

She turns her head and shoots him a look. “You never tried kissing a statue version of me!” 

“And I like you even more for that! Look at us, Mar! We’re 18 and 19 respectively, and we’re laying on your fluffy rug around midnight! Everything about this could be considered embarrassing, except it’s not! Because it’s us.” 

Adrien’s words only make Marinette more attracted to him at this point.

“We’re allowed to be embarrassing, but only when it’s us?” she asks.

He nods, lips quirking into a big smile. “Yes, exactly. I won’t be embarrassing with anyone else but you. You’re my embarrassing person, Marinette.” 

“My heart shouldn’t be fluttering at you calling us embarrassing,” she whines, laying her hand on his chest. 

“Embarrassingly in love idiots?” he whispers, finding her hand to tangle their fingers together so he can bring them up to his lips and brush his mouth over the back of her hand.

Marinette exhales a quiet laugh and says, “Very embarrassingly in love.” 

They fall asleep like that, his arm wrapped around her waist while she lays her head on his chest, breaths mingling together. 

It’s the best sleep she’s had in ages.

---

Marinette’s phone buzzing wakes her up the next morning. 

She fumbles around for the device, letting out a small aha as her fingers grip the electronic. It’s hard for her to open her and stare at the small screen, yet when she notices it’s a message from Adrien, her eyes snap open.

Wait, when did she get in her own bed?

Quickly opening the message, she reads it with increasing vigor as the message goes on.

Adrien: Hey, Mar. I couldn’t stay long after you fell asleep because I had a photoshoot this morning and you looked so cute that I didn’t want to wake you. I feel like I did a poor job at letting you know how I felt yesterday, so I’m going to say it here so it’s clear and you know, okay? (Don’t judge me!!!) 

I like you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You have such amazing qualities that I admire and adore. You’re a leader who isn’t afraid to stick up for what she believes in, whether you’re in the suit or out of it! You make the world a better place just by being you. I couldn’t think of a better person being Ladybug, and it makes me so happy that it’s you.

I’d love to get to know you more. I think we both know that we click really well at this point, but I want to do this right with you. We’re a team, Bug. You and me. So, what do you say? 

Her hand groggily slaps the call button, wiping back a few tears that slide down her cheeks from his works. 

The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hey, Mar. Did you get my message—”

“You stupid cat! I’m sitting here at eight in the morning crying because of you! I loved every second of it.” 

He lets out a soft chuckle, and she can hear the smile in his voice as he asks, “So does that mean it’s a yes?” 

“We should go to the museum and reenact our statue scene as our date,” Marinette suggests, a large grin making its way onto her face. 

Adrien nearly chokes. “Of course. I wouldn’t want it any other way, little bug.”

[iwannaseeyainakia]

The Moonlight Circus

This was a story I was commissioned to write by an anonymous tumblr user. Thought it would be good to show my writing and see how it changes over time!

trigger warning: gore, smoking, religious and supernatural themes, death, minor profanity

The heel of Morgan’s boots clicked against the checkered flooring of the circus. She made her way to the center of the stage, her stride casual. She readjusted her gray beanie as she climbed up the steps. The plastic name tag below her collarbone wobbled with each step. The words “Moonlight Circus” in Courier New font rested above her first name.  The floor of the stage was filthy; ash and soot smeared into the once pristine black and white pattern. Her pale green eyes followed a line of ash leading to a rusted cast-iron cannon. The smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air.  

She exhaled softly, reached into the pocket of her ‘Metallica’ pullover, and pulled out a lavender lighter and a worn pack of Newport cigarettes. She yanked one out of the box and shoved it in her hoodie again. Her black bitten nails struggled to start a flame before she victoriously held it to her cigarette, finally lighting it. A pewter gray smog released from the very tip, emitting a bitter comforting scent. She lifted her hand to her face, the cig clenched between her middle and pointer finger. As the paper touched her pale lips, the once vermillion embers shifted to a startling violet and the musty gray smoke suddenly turned a mauve tone. Morgan took a long drag of the strange purple cigarette while taking in her surroundings.  

The massive tent surrounding her was a striped pattern of burgundy and eggshell white.  The fabric was contrastingly cleaner than the stage of the ‘Moonlight Circus.’ The seating for guests was discolored bleachers; the aluminum being stained and scratched away by years of usage and lack of cleanliness. Many hot dogs drenched in mustard and bags of popcorn must have been dropped on it. There were multiple stacked on either side of the tent. The elevated stage had an outer ring surrounded by dark crimson foam. A round indoor pool was 15 feet away from her, the bottom of the pool a dirty yellow tint. Scales and confetti floated at the surface of the tainted water. 

 Large LED stage lights were set up at the ceiling of the canvass. Each was about the size of a child and contained a lens of different hues. They dimly lit the stage white. The tent was held up by dozens of rods with a singular large black pole at the center. The fabric bunched together and pulled up; it looked almost as if the very top of the tent was a tunnel that led nowhere, the stripes creating a dizzying optical illusion.  

The circus itself was located in a cheap amusement park; the locals treasured this place. It was affordable and held plenty of memories dear to their hearts. The Moonlight Circus was the main event, the park's pièce de résistance if you will.  

They had crowds of people flood the show every day. Bright smiles beamed on the faces of children and content parents awaited a trip down memory lane, nostalgia a pleasant high. After all, who wouldn’t be entranced by real-life monsters? 

Morgan released a puff of amethyst smoke, gently laying the cigarette between her lips again and keeping it there. She proceeded to stuff her hands in her pockets before an elegant voice called out to her, disrupting her daze.  

“Are you ready for the next show Morgana?” The feminine voice was gentle and motherly. She spoke each word with a grace that held centuries of wisdom. Her thick French accent was gorgeous; her voice matched exactly how she appeared. Morgan casually turned around and sent the woman a closed smile. Guinevere was a being of beauty, a true spectacle to behold. She was a small woman, approximately 5’2, petite but with a stance that conveyed raw strength. Her billowing pitch-black gown strewn behind her as she sashayed her direction. Her arms gently swung at her hips, an opera-length cigarette holder between the dainty fingers of her left hand. The skin of said hand was a pale blue-gray. The center of the long pipe was a silver fading into an intense black; a cigarette burning blood red at the end of it. Morgan glanced at her long dark hair. It was bone straight and swung behind her waist. The fringe of her locks covered her right eye, but Morgan could still make out a piercing iris a startling shade of red.  

“Hey, Gwen. Yeah, pretty much. Is everyone in the dressing room right now?” She inquired as the monster woman stood in front of her. Gwen gripped the edge of her large ebony sunhat, cigarette holder still between her fingers. The brim of the apparel was big enough to cover most of her hauntingly beautiful face. Lace hung half an inch off the seams and thin royal purple sticks of dynamite adorned the outer ring. While the entire hat was an eye-catcher; a nod to her part in the circus, the true emphasis of the hat was the large skull littered with cracks and yellow stains from tobacco. 

“Yes, and they’re taking damn long if I do say so myself.” The skull quipped judgmentally. Morgan chuckled. Gwen was not so amused by her husband’s comment. 

“Hush Pierre. No need to be snippy.” Guinevere jutted her hip out and placed her right hand on it to convey her sass. The skull instead, haughtily laughed at his wife. She rolled her eyes but could not contain the fond smile that grew on her lips, exposing her sharp fangs.  Despite all the time that’s passed, she still couldn’t fight how easily Pierre made her grin ear to ear. “Don’t mind him, Morgana, we’d best be on our way to prepare.” Gwen gripped Morgan’s wrist and tugged her along in the direction of the dressing room. 

Guinevere was the owner of the Moonlight Circus. A wonderful boss indeed, she felt more like a friend she’d known all her life than her superior. She also was a woman with a dream: to unite humans and monsters through entertainment. Humans used to fear the supernatural, loath it with their very being, but in this day and age, they take great pleasure in the abnormalities of the differing species. Harmony is built in this circus; humans come for entertainment and to admire the beautiful, violent specters, and the monster women give it to them. Gwen, a vampire, found joy in making others happy with her performance and her performers. 

 She often sat with Morgan under the night sky, gazing at the stars with a fond expression, spilling her life story to her. 

As a young girl, Guinevere was dazzled by monster kind. Born human, she felt there was so much to be discovered in magic and mythology. She felt it a shame that humanity was so quick to turn a blind eye to something so beautiful due to its differences in appearance. Her inclination in performing arts made her dream of a world where she could use performance to change a deep-seeded ideal within the societal structure. She’d sit next to her window sill, eyes twinkling with delight, wishing upon stars that someday her dream would become reality.  

For a woman such as herself, an objective of that nature was unheard of; impossible even. Nonetheless, she persevered. She wanted to tell the world that as a woman she would create art like no other and she would make a change for the supernatural of all origins. With a cigar between her lips, she rolled up the sleeves of her dress and got to work. She specifically sought out other women of mythological backgrounds for her acts. By 1890, she’d created the “Moonlight Circus” with the help of supernatural people she’d met along the way. In a small corner of Paris, France, it stayed. Given that monsters were still looked down upon by mankind, they’d been spit on, leered at, and dismissed by the public. As decades passed without much luck, her hope slowly began to dwindle. 

Gwen spent many restless nights wandering the streets of Paris, desperately trying to spread word of the big top containing wonderous spectacles to no avail. Just as she was close to giving up an aspiration she’d clutched tight since childhood, an American traveling carnival approached her. The owner, a large man who was only ever seen adorning a velvet suit, believed there was promise in her bazaar. He saw something no one else but Guinevere considered possible: an opportunity for change. In a society where her family within the tent were nothing but social rejects, outcasts; they along with everyone like them could be so much more. The man, kinder than Gwen could have ever hoped, opened up about his beliefs and desire to have her circus as an attraction in his fair. And she accepted with insurmountable glee.  

So, a new chapter for the big top began. With this foreign carnival, she traveled and built up her crew from nothing but sheer will. She continued her exploration and found many monstrous beings with the same ideology to join as performers. Word soon got out of the fantastical bazaar that made its way around the world. As opinions of the inhuman began to evolve with new generations, so too did their desire to know more. And eventually, they had a crowd; an adoring audience astounded by the display of otherworldly figures. Now, the carnival has made its permanent home in New Mexico, USA, and the circus by extension.  

“Think it’ll be packed tonight, Gwen?” Morgan already knew the answer, but figured it would be polite to make small talk.  

“Yes, absolutely my dear.” Guinevere continued to drag her to a slit in the circus tent. She placed her cigarette holder between her lips and used her palm to gently spread the opening, revealing a backstage area. It was renovated to be a dressing room; gothic aesthetic to match the theme, for all the performers pre-show. It was a much smaller canopy structure installed into the side of the main show tent. Despite the ground being grassy terrain, the room itself was well done. Dark oak vanities covered the walls, steampunk and alternative costumes littered any free space, and makeup laid atop every flat surface.  The spherical bulbs lining the mirror of the vanities were all lit a dim white light, illuminating the room enough so it was not pitch black.  

Light chatter and giggles filled the room as everyone who performed in the circus continued to get ready. 

The first person to notice Morgan’s sudden appearance was Gwen’s daughter, Victoria. Her eyes instantly brightened and a large Cheshire grin grew to meet her eyes. Vicky’s poofy raven black dress bounced as she sprinted towards her. The ivory petticoat underneath made the lace skirt fuller and frilly. The undead theme seemed to run in the family; Vicky being the zombie to her mother's bloodsucker and her father's skeletal remains. Her skin and teeth were rotten and oozing. Her hair was almost floor-length, and unbelievably matted. The knots at the base of her skull were so large you could have mistaken them for golf balls wrapped inside her tresses. A pair of filthy copper goggles rested on her forehead, the lenses murky and caked in blood. Between her toothy smile was a large cigar. There was no way to pinpoint the brand, as it was only labeled with a strange rune Morgan had never seen before.  Apparently, she had been taking a drag from the cigar, because smoke began to leak out of the holes in her skin.

Vicky launched her small form into Morgan’s arms. Morgan struggled to grip her as the foul stench her rotten flesh emanated was near unbearable. Swallowing down an audible gag, she smiled at the little girl before placing her gently back onto the grass.  

“Morgan! You’re going to love my act tonight.” Victoria loudly claimed, holding her fists to her chest with a grin still plastered upon her lips. Morgan couldn’t help but return the expression. Vicky was a sweet girl. A demented undead one, but sweet nonetheless. “I’m sure I will, Vicky. You’ll kill it tonight.” She seemed to have chosen the right words, because Vicky’s grin only got wider as she bounced up and down, skirt floating with her movement. She made gestures referencing explosions and tried to explain how her act tonight would go, but her words were so jumbled they were not understandable in the slightest. Her enthusiasm continued to increase alongside her violent movements before her mother placed a hand on her small shoulder.  

“Now, now Victoria, you’re talking so fast no one can understand you, dear. She’ll get to see your performance soon anyway, so let's keep it a surprise.” Gwen chided her daughter sweetly. “Ok, mommy.” Vicky heeded her mother's words and scurried to the side to search for her favorite lighter, cigar bouncing between her decayed teeth.  Cigar smoke trailed behind her figure. Gwen shook her head at her daughter’s antics, gripping the cig holder between her lips to take in a puff of nicotine. 

Victoria was the product of forbidden love between Guinevere and Pierre, a formerly vampiric man she’d encountered while searching for spectacles to join her circus. The traveling carnival had traversed Europe and decided to take camp for a while in the French countryside. Gwen had been overjoyed to be in her mother country again. She languished in the smell of the air and the sounds of nature like music to her ears. On a particularly stormy night, a vampire man with hair as light as wheat and skin as pale as snow knocked at the door of her bedroom within a quaint little inn. She opened the door to see him drenched in rain. The revenant, Pierre, gave her a goofy smile and asked for a part in her monstrous sideshow. 

While puzzled, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. Pierre and Guinevere grew close the more they worked at the fair together. They both had a passion for performing and magic. Romance blossomed; eventually, they eloped and she became pregnant. It was uncommon for vampires to conceive children, let alone with one of mankind. Guinevere was a woman of adventure and risk, so she took this new development in stride. In the excitement of her family growing larger, she decided to have Pierre turn her. Neither realized the possible problems that would arise from changing her into a vampire while bearing a child.  

And so, when Victoria was born, she was sickly and frail in every sense. Her genetics were corrupted by the change her mother took on while carrying her. Her personality, though, could be described as nothing but robust. Vicky as a toddler would often act as if she were not terminally ill; watching the acts in her mother’s circus with enraptured eyes, even participating in the choreography herself from time to time. 

Guinevere often spoke of a time in which Vicky had climbed into the cannon without anyone noticing and failed in trying to light it with one of her old cigars. She had rushed over in a panic, tearing her from the barrel before the flame grew closer. She checked over her body and, once assured she was not injured, inquired what she had been thinking. Victoria, the overzealous little girl she was, could only laugh with a large smile plastered on her face. “I wanted to fly mommy!”  

As she grew older, her body deteriorated. By age five she could barely walk. By six she couldn’t at all. At seven, she no longer had the energy to speak. At the young age of eight, she could only watch the performing women with a blank smile before she passed. For days they grieved over her. They left her cadaver laying on her satin bed sheets as she was before her death, in anguished hopes they could find a way to bring her back to them. After tirelessly searching for any form of necromancy that could revive her, Guinevere entered Victoria’s bedroom to adjust her as she did every day. Only to be startled by her daughter sitting upright and speaking to her.  

“Mommy, can I go play at the circus now?” Victoria bounced off the bed with newfound strength in her rotten limbs. Gwen could only rush to hug her baby who was with her once more. Undead, but with her despite everything. From that day on she allowed Victoria to become a full-time member of the bazaar. The human (zombie) cannonball. With a body that could be put back together, no working pain receptors, and a passion for explosives and theatrics, she fits the part flawlessly.  

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

The smaller tent was filled with a variety of supernatural women, the circus only having female staff. While most continued with their activities, some turned her direction and welcomed her. The parts in the circus were relatively small compared to most other acts, but the integration of monsters and mankind made up for it.  

Every single person handpicked by Guinevere herself, the cosmetologists, background musicians, and stage crew were all fairies. They each had varying sizes and shades of iridescent butterfly wings, and tight thigh-length dresses made from leaves and spider silk. While not as small as fae are typically depicted in human literature, they reached only about 3 feet and hovered above ground with a light flap of their appendages; they had the grace of hummingbirds. Faes are known for their artistic and musical capabilities. There were twenty-three pixies on set, all of them being gentle girls with a heart of gold. Their love of all life made them a wonderful asset to this circus promoting coexistence. Currently, they fluttered around tidying the room and freshening up the faces of the main performers.  

The ‘clowns’ of the act were all young shapeshifters. All fifteen of the women were from different cultures, shapeshifters being in a large majority of mythology; making them unique despite the similarities in capacities. Their abilities were used to shift them from playful clowns to dangerous animals to be used in other’s acts. While their personalities were all very different, each of them loved performing at the Moonlight Circus. Some spoke amongst themselves, shimmying into tight leotards and fixing their updos. A few of them, though, struggled to keep Victoria from swallowing handfuls of gunpowder. Especially with a lit cigar in her mouth.

“VICKY NO-” A wet splat hit the wall and a giggling head rolled at their feet. The shifters looked in disgust at their blood-stained clothes and scolded the decapitated head of the little girl. The others just laughed at the normally terrifying sight. 

 Morgana turned her eyes away, cringing internally, but knowing full well she’d be back on her feet in a few minutes. 

The main acts were very typical of a circus; the women enacting them were anything but. The designated tight rope walker was an Arachne woman named Magnolia. Her form was that of a tall human, her body could only be described as pear-shaped. Despite her form being humanoid, she had skin that was a smooth charcoal black and a spider abdomen attached to her lower back. The abdomen was a sunshine yellow covered in symmetrical white spots on either side. The pedicel connecting it to her body was the same tone as her skin. She also had eight spindly appendages protruding from the middle of her spine, each striped black and yellow. Magnolia had shoulder-length wavy hair a banana color with frayed strands of spider webs tangled within. Despite the frightening six extra eyes lining her temples, she was a kind eccentric woman. As the aerialist, the tightrope she walked during each performance was a magnificent braided rope made of her webbing. Magnolia was sitting on a cushioned stool, twisting her thread into a complicated bracelet, only glancing up to grace Morgan with a polite smile and greeting.  

Delane and Clio, however, wasted no time in rushing to make conversation with her. 

“Yo, Morgan! We’ve been looking for ya. Can you help me into this wetsuit?” Clio loudly proclaimed, simultaneously carrying her lover, Delane, in her arms bridal style. The duo is the aquatic performers of the show. Clio is a water nymph with connections to the Greek god Poseidon. She willingly took on a human female’s appearance, but that could not hide the divine aura that radiated off her very being. She had a lean build but still held all the strength a creature with holy connections such as herself should have. Her head was bare of hair and her ears pointed in an elf-like fashion. She stumbled around in a limp bedazzled wetsuit pulled up her hips halfway, the skin of her upper half an olive tan.  

“Seriously dude, I’m struggling here.” 

Delane was a mermaid, a perfect match to Clio’s Nereid. Her Prussian blue scaled tail hung limply over her girlfriend’s arm. The trawl half of her body closely resembled a koi fish. The caudal fin was long and thin, like fine silk flowing with the movements of Clio’s jerks. A dorsal fin ran down the back of it, getting smaller as it reached the end of her tail. She also had multiple pelvic fins running down the sides; the fins at the top were much larger than the ones at the end. They were all light cyan. The scales from her tail ran up her stomach, becoming much more scattered as they reached the dark skin of her breasts. Her hair was a short black pixie cut with a shaggy top, ending at the gills just below her chin.  

“Yeah, uh, maybe hurry before she drops me, please.” Delane nervously spoke. She wore a necklace composed of seashells and stones from the shore of her home, matching Clio’s own as a symbol of devotion between them. Together, they enacted a beautiful water-based act that captivated every audience we had.  

Morgan laughed at Clio’s predicament before moving to help her into the suit. Just as she got a grip on the neoprene material a strong voice halted them.  

“You could’ve just asked me, Clio. Here I got you.” Large calloused hands assisted her in her efforts. Morgan turned her head to Anastalia. Anastalia was the strong woman act of the circus. Like many of those hired here, a part of her resembled that of mankind, but she was very obviously not human. Her upper half was the build of a shredded woman: pulsing muscles, large bulging breasts, defined abs, intimidating biceps. She looked as if she was carved by the gods themselves. Her bottom half, while just as muscular, was that of a black stallion. Her four large hooves clapped against the ground in a deafening display and her dark tail broke the sound barrier like a whip. The hair atop her head was a dark brown with a sheen that made it glint in the light. Her long straight locks cascaded down the flesh of her shoulders a similar shade, reaching the small of her back.  

Anastalia peers up from the suit to bicker teasingly with Clio. She galloped gracefully in circles around them, admiring her handy work. “Eh, to be honest, I think it needs to be a bit bluer at the hips.” She quipped thoughtfully. Clio and Delane exchanged a glance and giggled in unison. Clio responded, “You’re one for detail, but let me tell ya, you don’t look it.” She lets out a boisterous laugh, keeling over slightly, causing Delane to screech in fear of being dropped and grip her shoulders tighter. Anastalia only rolled her eyes.  

“Har har, laugh it up, I’m not just a brute. I’m also an artist.” She struck a pose that had Clio cackling harder and Delane protesting louder. Morgan shared a laugh with them, her sides aching. Loud footsteps behind her turned her attention away for a moment. “C’mon Lanira, hurry!” Vicky, seemingly back to normal after spontaneously combusting, ran and jumped in a very abstract dance with her friend. Lanira, an incorporeal little girl resembling that of a cartoon witch floated around her at a much slower pace. “I’m going as fast as I can Vicky.” Lanira’s tone was much less enthusiastic. She had a slight cockney accent. 

Her dark flowing gown had no shape to it, more like a sack made of cotton. Her sleeves puffed out and tightened below her palms that gripped onto a translucent 19th-century broomstick underneath her. She twirled around with Victoria, who was still jumping around and flailing in her interpretative art form. Her wide-brimmed hat had a large peak at the top that dipped down at the very point. It was navy blue and held a wide variety of jewelry and trinkets that dangled down. Bits of cloth hung off the edge with pearls woven into it.  

Lanira had become a ghost after a ‘mishap’ with one of her spells backfiring. As the magician of the big top, she experimented with plenty of dangerous enchantments. One moment she was but a mangled corpse of a girl with crippling insomnia, and the next she was a spirit with large eyebags, continuing with her act as if death had not just occurred before everyone’s eyes. As the specter of a young talented sorceress, she must have expected this possible outcome and kept a few “tricks” up her sleeve. She kept with her act even after her untimely demise, even increasing the intensity now that death was no longer a possibility.  

Morgan took a long drag of her cigarette and continued to gaze in amusement. Lanira half-heartedly attempted to keep up with Victoria, the zombie child still lost in her own little world.  

“Alright, everyone! It’s time to get this show on the road once more, as they say.” Gwen chuckled at herself lightly. The room erupted in conversation and scrambling to get in costume in time. The pale woman approached her once more. “Will you please start allowing entry, dear?” She nodded at her, cig between her lips bobbing. “Of course.” She smiled and made her way out of the dressing room.  

The flap quietly closed behind her form as she made her way to her ticket booth. She could still hear the loud conversations and shuffling from inside the room. Her steps echoed throughout the stage. The entrance to the inside of the show floor was a large rectangular cut-out with a flap hanging to the side that could be zipped up. The outside of the tent was the same striped colors as the inside, illuminated by the setting sun. The tent performed almost all day, but their largest and most spectacular show was always right after the sunset. It was also the most packed of all their performances.  

The ticket booth was a wooden structure painted red and white. A gigantic sign in the shape of a ticket was placed on the roof displaying the name of the circus. It sat in front of a zig-zagging gate that led to the entrance. She opened the door and stepped inside, admiring the long line that had already formed. The crowd was a diverse amount of people. Some were singular people showing up alone for the show. Some were human couples on a date or parents with their ecstatic children bouncing with joy. There were even some couples that were interspecies; a human and a not-so-human person lovingly interlocked their hands.  

She opened the window of the booth and started accepting tickets from each person. One by one they approached the stall, handing in their crisp voucher, and making their way through the gates to pick up snack food and be seated. The sound of kids giggling and adults speaking with a grin in their voice was heartwarming. Memories were being made here time and time again; the atmosphere never changed. She never got tired of seeing happy faces coming to experience the wonders of the Moonlight Circus. A small crescent moon adorned each ticket that she received and stashed away in a box beside her.  

It took a good long while before each person who had previously bought a ticket was granted entry. She let out a sigh and sucked in some more smoke. She released a lilac cloud into the evening air. The sky was a dusty orange making way for the black of night. She continued to smoke while idly wondering if a storm was brewing. It seemed as if their best shows were when it was pouring rain and thunder broke through the cheers. The sound of Guinevere’s muffled voice over a speaker broke through the silence she’d been basking in.  

“Ladies and gentlemen! I thank you for coming to see our fantastical performers tonight! We hope to amaze you just as every crowd before.” Her words were a cue for Morgana. She laid the cigarette between her lips once more and strode her way into the tent. The tips of her fingers graced over the edge of the tent fabric for a split second. The control panels for the lighting were tucked into another miniature tent attached to the side of the main structure. She could see the sprites flying above and moving the large spotlight from the cameras beside the panels to follow Gwen’s moving figure. The stark white luminescence made her look more ethereal than before.  She continued on, cigarette holder still wedged between her thin lips. 

“We have an awe-inspiring act for you all!”  

“This beautiful lady here did most of the work.”  

Her husband quickly added to her dialogue. “Hush my love.” The crowd quietly chuckled.  

“It’s true.”  

“Pierre!” 

“Sorry, sorry!”  

The audience roared with more laughter.  

Under the dim lighting of the rest of the stage, she could make out the two fluffy skirts of the little girls waiting for their first part in the choreography. One was fidgeting and prancing around in the dark, not only disguised by the lack of light but the cloud from her cigar. The other floated just above the ground, flying around the other body in circles. Morgan placed her fingertips on the switches and pushed them up very slightly. The area brightened enough for the stage to be somewhat visible but kept the two hidden from their awaiting audience.  

“Each of our performers is a woman with grace, power, and most of all, a love for their part here.”  

Recovering from her husband's unethical interruption, she made her way up to the round platform on the stage. The spotlight followed in sync. She turned suddenly to face the stands, her skirt twirling above her feet.  

“We give you our best and only our best!” Gwen spoke into the microphone with glee, her visible scarlet eye piercing the crowd. “The Moonlight Circus has been our pride and joy for many decades. Tonight, we strive to show you exactly why!” She gave them a beautiful motherly smile.  

“Now please.” 

“Stay seated and enjoy the show!” She and the skull of her husband atop her head spoke in unison. She extended one arm behind her, bent the other in front of her middle and bowed.  

“Hey, hey! Careful please!” Pierre screamed as he slipped down slightly. The audience responded with laughter as before. The spotlight shut off and the stage was dim once again, other than the shine of Guinevere’s red cigarette. The crowd went silent. Her footsteps echoed on a different part of the stage. She could very faintly make out dainty shoes running up the steps and hopping into the cannon. One of the two figures was missing from their spot to the side. 

Morgan’s fingers danced on the panel, letting excitement coarse through her. She couldn’t fight the adrenaline rush before each performance commenced. She hadn’t been working there for more than two years, but this circus had become her family. Her home. Each person here has proven to her that the impossible is only so if you believe it is. And each show was a testament to how far they’d come. This circus act alone has been a large part of the progression that’s been made between the supernatural world and human society. They’re more than just a tent of sideshow freaks; they’re artists embracing their bodies and talents to better their lives, and many others.  

She grips the lever with resolve. She knows that to an outsider they may be passing entertainment. But that was progress by itself. This place is a part of her now. And she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Morgana pushed the handle forward. It clicked in place. The stage lights flicked on in a magnificent spectrum of colors. Gwen’s right hand is extended to the wick of the cannon, holder lighting the end. Her daughter’s tangled mane of hair is just barely visible from the lip. A deafening boom shatters the atmosphere and the show begins.  

[lu-undy]

Chapter 99 - SBT

Here it is!

"Right, the Maravilhoso…" 

Mundy parked the motorcycle and removed his helmet before getting inside. 

"Oh, hold on…" As he passed in front of the facade, he caught a glimpse of his reflection, the light of the lamp posts helping. He thought of Perle and adjusted his hair and his bowtie. Last time he had done that, it was before entering Lulu's room and he had a ponytail… 

"Right." He pushed the door and entered. "Oh, wow…" 

The atmosphere inside the restaurant was completely different from the dark and relatively silent streets. The lights were golden, yellow and red inside of the Brazilian steakhouse and the music was… exotic. Mundy didn't exactly know what the style was called but it was soothing while people were dancing at one end of the large room. An orchestra was playing live, and it reminded Mundy of the Queen Victoria days, only more colourful and tropical.

"Evenin' Sir, how may I help?" A waiter broke Mundy's train of thought.

"Oh, uh, my partner's booked a table, I think…"

"What name would that be?" They both shifted to the stand with the register. 

"Uh… Beauregard, or Turner." 

The waiter frowned as his eyes scanned the large book. 

"Uh, Beauregard is a French name, spellin's quite odd." Mundy started spelling it out loud and the waiter's eyebrows jumped. 

"Ha! Gotcha! Yes, of course! Alright, follow me."

Mundy did as he was told and was taken to a table and seated. Lucien wasn't there yet, evidently.

"Here is the menu."

"Ah, thanks." Mundy took it and the waiter faded away. 

Lucien wasn't there yet so why not have a look at what kind of food was served in that establishment? Mundy knew the place by name, the name on the outside was flashing in bulbs of yellow in the night, blinking and dancing. There was no way one would go through the street and miss it. Besides, the smell inside was very appetising, grilled meat was largely dominating, but the Aussie could perceive a hint of foreign spices through it all.

"Good evening, handsome..." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped at the feminine voice. He raised his eyes from the menu and saw a woman pulling the chair opposite him and sitting down as easily as just that. 

"Uh, hey there, I-I'm actually waitin' for someone, sorry." 

"I'll go when they show up, don't worry." The lady put her hand on the menu in Mundy's hands and pushed it down. That's when the Aussie noticed her long, dark blue, velvet gloves that went all the way to her elbows. Her slim arms were white as snow and her dress matched her gloves, or the other way around. "May I?" 

"You're already sitting at my table, eh?" 

"Oh, then I guess it is a yes…?" 

She looked older than Mundy, her hair was long, salt and pepper, like Lucien. She wore beautiful make-up, not too much, but just enough to enhance her features, her eyes in particular. A touch of mascara and eye-liner to give her light blue eyes a feline look. 

"You're here alone?" He asked her. 

"I was waiting for my companion and got bored." She answered. "I saw you alone and thought we might spend a bit of time together, instead of each being in their own solitude…?" 

Mundy's ears twitched at the word: solitude. He frowned for an instant. 

"Hm." 

"So," The woman cocked an eyebrow. "What is your name?" 

"M." 

"Just M?" 

"Yeah." 

"Fair enough." She chuckled. 

"Why're you laughin'?" 

"Quite mysterious you are, M, hm? Even though you don't look like the mysterious type."

There was a subtle accent in the woman's voice, nothing that Mundy had heard before. She was a native alright, but there was a very light twist in her words… 

"Although you do look very handsome, tonight." She poured Mundy and herself a glass of water and drank. 

"You flirtin' with me?" Mundy asked. 

"Why not? You said you were waiting for a friend, not your wife, hm?" She cocked a cheeky eyebrow. 

"Well, uh, I said friend but uh…" 

"Is she more?" 

"I mean…" Mundy scratched his cheek nervously. 

"I don't mind some competition." 

The Aussie started to sweat. 

"Look, uh, y-you're very nice and all, but uh… huh?"

The woman stood off of her chair and got closer to Mundy before half sitting on the table itself, her thigh dangerously close to the Aussie's forearm. Mundy couldn't help but look at it. His eyes went from her high-heeled black boot, wrapping her thin leg tightly to her black stockings under her dress. The only reason he could see all that was because the slit on her dress went all the way up to the top of her thigh… Mundy blushed and looked away, feigning to look for Lucien as he gulped down hard.

"The shy type, are we?" She put her index finger below Mundy's jaw and pulled him to face her. "I like it." She winked and Mundy's heart beat twice as fast as the music playing in the restaurant. 

"W-wow, alright, uh, listen, sheila… I-I'm really not lookin' for-"

"You might not be looking, but I am. And I now have my eyes on a very pretty one…" She bit her lip and Mundy saw a shy flash of her pearly white teeth. Gosh...

"Pff, you should meet my, uh, friend. He's the king of pretty…" Mundy tried to divert the conversation away from him.

"Oh, should I? What is his name?" 

"L." 

"Just L?" 

"Yeah." 

"Such a concidence…My name also starts with an L…" She bent down and got her lips closer to Mundy's ear. "Bonsoir, mon loup."

[Good evening, my wolf.]

Mundy gasped and turned his head to face her again. Their faces were a few inches apart and she smiled as she pushed back a lock of her long hair. 

"W-what?" 

"It's me, mon amour. Have you not recognised me?" Lucien chuckled and broke the voice acting for a second. 

"What?!" He repeated and Lucien sat opposite the Aussie whose jaw had dropped. "Why are you…? I mean why the…?" 

"Surprise…!" Lucien answered with a wink and slid his hand on the table to hold Mundy's. 

"It's really you? How can I be sure?"

"Who else would call you mon loup?" Lucien smiled, resuming the feminine voice. "And I can tell you the exact number of scars on your back, I have kissed them all…" 

Mundy blushed again. 

"Bloody hell, ok…! Woah…" Mundy pulled on his collar to let more air through. "But why are you dressed… like that?" He asked, confused. 

"Someone once said that they wanted to be able to hold me close in public, but couldn't because I was a man. So I reused a spooky skill of mine." He explained nonchalantly. 

"You… You've already done that before?" 

"Occasionally, oui. But I never enjoyed it. Today might be the first time I do." 

"Oh, really?" Mundy asked, still digesting it all. "And the beard's gone? And your voice, your accent…? How the hell can you sound like a sheila?"

"I was that good at my job, and for the beard, it would have looked very odd, non?" Lucien winked. "Besides, seeing that blush on your cheeks when you looked down my thigh was worth every minute of me trying to hide my masculine aspects." Lucien chuckled. 

"I…" 

"You…?" 

"I don't know what to say…!" Mundy was at a loss for words even, he leaned back on his chair and exhaled the breath he had been holding.

"Then hold my hand, and say nothing." Lucien gave him a slow flap of his eyelashes and it was enough to tame the hunter, who obeyed, and slid his fingers between Lucien's gloved ones.

"Gosh…" Mundy blushed.

"Is something the matter?" 

"I… I never thought I'd…" Mundy looked left and right at the other patrons in the restaurant. No one was giving them any odd looks. Why would they? Mundy was but holding a woman's hand.

"Hm?" 

"Never thought I'd hold your hand out in the open… Feels… Feels amazin'..." Mundy raised bright shining eyes to Lucien. "Feels like… We're really together, like…" 

"Weren't we before?" Lucien tilted his head on the side and gave a lopsided smile. 

"Course we were. Just feels… stronger, somehow…" 

They exchanged a dear grin before they dived in the menu and placed their order. 

"So, uh… Why all this?" Mundy asked. 

"Because you have been feeling low as of late, as I thought I might try to do something about it." 

Mundy lowered his head yet ginned shyly. 

"I'm… I'm sorry." 

"What for?" 

"Must've been shit livin' with me for the past few days." Mundy raised ashamed eyes. 

The conversation cut when they both received their meals and thanked the waiter, before he disappeared. 

"Non, Mundy, you are a delight to live with." 

"Even when I wake up every night?"

"Even when you wake up every night." 

"Even when I look like shit and am in a low mood?"

"Even when you look like shit and are in a low mood." Lucien answered with a chuckle. "Are you hungry?" 

"Yeah, quite a bit…" Mundy answered, looking down at his plate. 

"Then, please dig in, and bon appétit." 

"To you too, luv'." 

They started going at their plates. 

"Mmh, that's some good steak right there… How's yours?" 

"Divine, but not as good as the sight you offer me." 

"Oh, hm…" Mundy blushed and smiled. 

"Look at this now…!" Lucien said. 

"What?" Mundy felt put on the spot seeing how intensely Lucien was staring at him. 

"It has been a long time since I last saw one of those." 

"One of those what?" 

"One of those smiles." Lucien answered. "The shy ones, the ones from the beginning." 

"W-well… Feels like the beginnin' again, but different." Mundy answered. 

"How so?" 

"I…" Mundy looked down at his plate, it was hard enough to find the words, let alone say them. "I'm… I'm fallin' in love with you… again… but as a sheila." 

Lucien put one of his gloved hands on his chest and smiled while tilting his head.

"Mundy…" 

"I know. Makes no sense. 'm sorry, should've shut up…" Mundy dived as deep as he could in his steak to avoid Lucien's gaze. 

"Mundy…?"

"Anyway, forget it. How d'you find the uh, the rice and uh, stuff?" 

"Mundy, please, look at me." 

Lucien's feminine voice was something. It made something tremble inside Mundy, who obeyed, albeit timidly. 

"What you said is far from ridiculous. I… I appreciate it, dearly." 

"I mean… I didn't mean like… As in… You just look gorgeous, male or female… I…" Mundy averted his eyes. "It's even harder to look at you now…! Not that it was easy before but I kinda got used to it. Now it feels like I'm startin' all over again." 

"Mundy…?" 

"What?" 

"Finish your plate, I have another surprise for you, before we get some dessert." 

"Okay… Sorry again. That-that was uh, awkward to say…" The Aussie scratched his head nervously. 

"Non, it wasn't. I find you charming." 

Mundy eventually raised his head and was welcomed by Lucien's irresistible smile.

"Thank you, luv'."

They went on invading their plates steadily. 

"Have you ever been to Brazil?" Mundy asked. 

"Non, I have not. I have been in Guinée Équatoriale though."

"Where's that?" 

"At the Northern frontier with Brazil is a territory that belongs to France. I have been there, briefly. It was hardly long enough for me to get well acquainted with the local life there, unfortunately." 

"Oh, ok… Didn't know France had a border with Brazil…"

"And it is its longest with any neighbouring country." Lucien answered. 

"Really?" 

"Oui, France's longest border in the world is shared with Brazil of all places."

"Woah… Quite wild, eh?" 

"Not half as much as you are, mon loup." 

They shared a chuckle. 

"And you, where have you travelled to?" Lucien asked. "I remember you telling me that when you were chasing down poachers, you had been sent in quite a few places outside of Australia." 

"Yeah," Mundy nodded. "Mostly America, though. Not every reserve has the money to spare to pay for flights and hotels for a hunter comin' from the other end of the world."

"Mmh, I see Monsieur's fees were high, hm?" Lucien smirked. 

"Well, I just didn't have the money myself so either they paid for everythin' and I'd come, or they didn't and I stayed here." 

"I see. Whereabouts in America?"

"The US, New Mexico and Texas mainly, the Australia of the US…" 

"I have heard of it the other way around." 

"What d'you mean?" 

"I have heard British people say that Australia is the Texas of the United Kingdom." 

Mundy chuckled. 

"Sounds about right, I guess. We're a wilder bunch than the Brits, but eh…" 

"Not so hard to achieve if you ask me…!" Lucien raised his glass of wine and Mundy imitated him. "To us, mon loup." 

"Yeah, to you and me, Lu'."

Their glasses met in crystal sounding clink and they both took a sip. 

"That was one hell of a good bit of meat…" 

"Admitting defeat already?" Lucien cocked an eyebrow. 

"Defeat? What am I fightin'?" 

"Me." Lucien stood up and held his hand out for Mundy who frowned, confused, but put his hand in the gloved one. The Frenchman pulled him and Mundy stood up. 

"Where're we going…? Oh…" 

Lucien had led the way to the dancing area and looked up at Mundy. 

"Do you know how to dance to this kind of music?" 

"No clue, but I'll dance with you." 

Lucien bit his lip and smiled. Anytime Mundy pushed his own limits in favour of him, the Frenchman could feel his knees weaken. 

"Humour me and try. Bear in mind that as the man, you will have to lead." 

It was a slow bossa nova, something that wasn't usually danced but the people in the restaurant didn't mind much for it. On the dance floor, the lights were lower, a few spots of yellow, orange, red and pink shone on the floor and traced circles and loops as the couple danced around. It was about a dozen couples or so there, among which Mundy and Lucien. 

"Right…" Mundy laced a hand around Lucien's slim waist and held the other one in front of him, like an invitation. Lucien raised his eyes and saw his lover's oh so sweet grin. He placed his gloved hand on his and Mundy started to move. 

He led the dance slow and mellow, small steps that Lucien appreciated dearly. The point wasn't to dance per se, but to hold onto each other for a moment, in the dimness of the dancefloor, blend in, and forget that they were different. To the outside eye, they were an ordinary couple, a he and a she, prim and proper, well dressed and even better loved. 

Mundy looked down and stared with half-lidded eyes at Lucien who was looking up at him. He seemed head over heels for the Aussie, lovestruck by a lightning bolt. The Aussie blushed again and bent his head down until Lucien met his forehead with his own. 

"You look amazin', Lu'..." 

"Mh, so do you, in your suit… I am actually surprised."

"Why?" 

"First, I didn't have to adjust your collar or bowtie, they are perfect. Secondly, you aren't shy at all to dance in the middle of other people." 

"Well, Pearl told me off cause my hair was… well… not that great." 

"Did she?" Lucien chuckled.  

"Yeah… Had to go back and fix it, and I took advantage of my bein' there to fix the rest too." They shared a laugh before Mundy resumed his speech, still gently rocking them left and right. "But then, I thought that she was right. If you wanted me to wear a suit, then you needed me to look good, or as good as I can get. So I tried…" 

"Mmh… You look absolutely divine…" Lucien purred.

"And for the dancin', I uh… I don't know… I just want to hold you and… move with the music, gently." 

"Mmh…" Lucien leaned his head against Mundy's chest, on his vest, and the Aussie blushed to his ears. 

"Y-you alright?" 

"Oui… This is a dream come true for me." Lucien answered, with his eyes closed. 

"What? I-I'm sorry, I've lost you there…"

"Being held in strong arms, by a tall and virile man…" Lucien bit his lip and looked up. He opened his eyes slowly, his eyelashes rose to reveal his crystal clear irises. 

"Woah…" Mundy whispered and his pupils blew wide. "I… Hm…" He put a hand behind Lucien's head and pulled him to lay it back under his jaw. Lucien obeyed and splayed his gloved hands flat on Mundy's chest, left and right. The Aussie's other hand was at the bottom of his back, pulling him closer still. "You smell amazin', you look amazin', pfff… I'm the luckiest bloke on Earth." He kissed Lucien on his head, through his hair, and he heard him pur in delight.

"I feel like a God…"

"A Goddess I guess, eh?" 

Lucien chuckled.

"I guess so, oui. Oh…?" 

Mundy's hand shifted from the bottom of Lucien's back, sliding up along his spine. The Frenchman's knees weakened as the rough hand set shivers everywhere in his body. He bit his lip to smother his whimper as he clawed his gloved fingers on Mundy's smooth vest, and rolled his eyes. Mundy's hands travelled up and up until they were each on Lucien's smooth cheeks.

"You look gorgeous without your beard too." 

Lucien heard the hoarse whisper, the husky voice, but not the words. Whatever Mundy said, it flew above his head, his brains were jelly, his eyes lazy and his eyebrows arched high up. Mundy held his head like a priceless crystal sculpture. As the soft and slow bossa nova wrapped them, he bent down and delicately dropped his lips on Lucien's, which ended the Frenchman. Such courage, such madness from his lover was yet another proof of how strongly and deeply he craved the kiss. 

Mundy, who was usually shy, prude with his feelings, awkward even, was holding Lucien's face between his palms, his thumbs brushing his clean-shaven, smooth face. He pushed a silver lock of hair away from his eyes and went for it. Lucien didn't see it coming. His lips were just met with the Aussie's, as simply as just that, and the Frenchman lost his mind…!

He clung to Mundy, pulling his vest down because his legs had given up. The Aussie quickly caught the hint and laced an arm back at the bottom of Lucien's back, to support him. When he broke the kiss, Lucien's eyes refused to open again for a few seconds. Eventually, the mascara-lined eyelashes fluttered like a butterfly's wings.

"You alright?" It was barely a whisper of Mundy's voice and Lucien's eyes lowered to Mundy's lips again. The spell was cast, Lucien was as liquid as he could be in Mundy's arms. 

The music stopped for a second in the background during which Mundy got very self-conscious. He quickly looked around them but still, no one was staring at them. The band started playing again and it was as slow as a bossa nova.

Mundy's eyes shifted down to Lucien. He was still staring at him as if he was the only person in the room, and for him, he was. Lucien had eyes only for Mundy. He let himself utterly fall and be ridiculous, he let himself show his love for Mundy without restraints, something he usually only does in the sheets. But now, as Mundy looked down, he saw a version of Lucien that he didn't know no one else had ever seen. He was looking at Lucien deeper in love than he ever was, eyes dreamy, crossing on his lips, lips parted, eyebrows arched.

"Gosh… You look…" And Mundy's instincts kicked in again, seeing Lucien so defenseless, so vulnerable, in a crowd of people. He pulled him close and held him safe in his arms. No one would get close to him, no one would touch or even speak to Lucien. It was Mundy's responsibility to protect him and by God be would! 

Lucien rolled his eyes in bliss as he closed them against Mundy's chest. The Aussie was gently rocking him left and right, in rhythm with the slow music. The Frenchman was possessed. A force stronger than him had turned his body, his will and his mind to absolutely nothing. All he felt was the possessive attraction to that tall man in a beige suit, the one with the impeccable hair, the iconic sideburns, the rough skin and large hands that were holding him from his hip and his head. Lucien curled his upper body in Mundy's arms and felt a peck gently land above his head, on his hair. 

Oui, oui, Mundy, please… Please, hold me. I don't want anyone else but you. I can't even see anyone else but you. I feel so incredibly safe with you, it's… an addiction, this sensation. I crave to be held safe and only you manage to do it so well. Only in your arms do I feel that none of my problems are mine. Only when your hands are laced around me do I feel that whatever rises in front of me, you will help me defeat it. You are my strength as much as you are my weakness. Je t'aime. 

Lucien screwed his eyes shut and frowned against Mundy's chest. 

"Love you too, sweetheart." 

[sylvies-chen]

“I dig it when you're fancy dressed up in lace

I dig it when you have a smile on your face”

Or

“It's just warm love

It's just warm love

And it's ever present everywhere

And it's ever present everywhere

That warm love”

-My favorite song, Warm love by Van Morrison for brettsey please! ♥️

When Sylvie had told him she was a country girl, this isn’t what Matt had expected. 

He knows she’s from Fowlerton. And he’s been there a few times for short visits, but he hadn’t expected it to fit into the countryside stereotypes as much. Small town, quiet, horses everywhere… and line dancing. 

He thinks he mishears her at first when she tells him there will be square dancing and line dancing at this event they’re going to. It’s supposed to be a community thing, something the locals do almost every week. She gives him a heads up a week before though, which is nice of her since this is the first time he’s going to be meeting her parents in Fowlerton.

That’s the whole point of their trip to Fowlerton, in all honesty. Sylvie had been getting calls from her parents constantly after Julie’s death to check up on her and how she’s doing. Sylvie gets so bugged by it that they decide to make a weekend trip to Fowlerton to introduce him to her parents and to prove to them that she’s really, truly, completely fine now. Helen and Jordie end up being lovely people, very sweet and supportive of their relationship. They’ve only been there for two days but Matt finally knows where she gets her famous Sylvie Brett optimism, which comes surprisingly from her dad. They stay at her parents’ place, sleeping in their guest bedroom. She shows Matt her old childhood bedroom on the first day, and one glance at the tiny twin bed is enough to know that the guest room is the right choice. Now, Matt’s looking in the mirror and buttoning up the only plaid shirt he owns while Sylvie changes in the bathroom. “You ready?” He calls out to her. 

“Yeah, coming!” She walks out a few minutes later in her full outfit and just. Wow. Sylvie’s always gorgeous, but… wow. Her dress is short, barely reaching her knees with a low-cut neckline and short, off the shoulder sleeves. A thin, white lace is on the exterior. She’s wearing heel-cut boots and the necklace he gave her for their one month anniversary hangs around her neck, blending in with the curled strands of her golden hair. He feels his cheeks heat up. As always, Sylvie is drop-dead gorgeous. 

“What?” She looks at him confused, and he realizes he’s staring. “Is the dress too big? Too weird-looking? Gallo told me over facetime that it was very ‘cottagecore’ but I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or—”

“The dress is perfect. You’re perfect,” he assures her, pulls her closer to him by the waist with his hand, and kisses her. Kisses her hard. 

“Wow,” she breathes heavily as he pulls away, “I should wear this dress more often if the feedback’s going to be that great.” 

“You definitely should,” he nods cheekily. “And I’d rip it right off you right now if I wasn’t so nervous about dancing in front of your parents.” 

Sylvie takes a deep breath in, moves past the idea of ripping her dress off after a moment and reassures Matt. “Oh, don’t be worried, they love you!”

“I’m not sure they’re going to love my two left feet. Slow dancing, that I can do. Line dancing? I don’t even know where to start.” 

“Here, I’ll show you,” she beams, placing herself next to him. 

“So you just put your heel out on- yeah, that foot,” she explains, watching Matt mimic her movements. “Then you bring it back and tap the tip of your toe. Twice.” 

He does so, and then she slowly takes him through all of the important steps to her kind of dancing. He leans on her for support when the steps get hard but by the end of it, he manages to pull off something that could actually be passed for half-decent line dancing. Which, in his book, is an absolute miracle. 

“See? You’ll be great. Besides, these things tend to get a little rowdy towards the end so you won’t even have to do the hardcore stuff, just the easy dances we went through.” 

��That was the easy stuff?!” 

“Oh yeah. Trust me, babe, it gets so much worse,” she shudders at the thought but laughs and wraps her arms around his neck. “We can just slow dance the rest of the night if you want. That sounds much more fun to me,” she smirks, leaning in for another kiss. 

“Mmm,” he mumbles in agreement against her lips before pulling away. “Alright, we better get going. Your parents are probably wondering what’s taking us so long.” 

Sylvie laughs, takes him by the hand and leads him down to the main level where her parents are sitting at their kitchen table. 

“Aww well look at you two!” Helen gushes at them as they come down the stairs. “You two look adorable! Don’t they look adorable, Jordie?” 

“Cute as a button, as always,” Her dad replies, leaning in for a hug from his beloved daughter. He turns to Matt and continues, “You make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble, alright? Last time this young lady here went to one of these events she tried going on the mechanical bull and broke her ankle.” 

“Ok it was a sprain,” she leaps to her own defense, “and that’s irrelevant. That mechanical bull broke down years ago, we’ll be fine!” 

“Oh, alright. You don’t stay out too late though.” He points a teasing finger at Matt.

“I’m not in high school dad,” she singsongs, warning him. 

“We won’t stay too long, sir. I promise,” he chuckles back.

“Oh I’m just kidding, and please, call me Jordie,” he shakes Matt’s hand and lets them get on their way. 

“I’m sorry about that,” Sylvie blushes as they hop into Matt’s truck. “He can be intense sometimes.” 

“No, I like it. They’re great people. You really lucked out in the parent department. Not,” he bites his tongue when he remembers Julie, “not like that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— with Julie and everything…” 

“Matt, hey,” she soothes his wordy and takes his hand in hers, uses the other to cup his cheek. “It’s alright. I know I’ve been super determined to prove to my parents that I’m fine so far during this trip but that’s only because, well, for so long I wasn’t okay. I was heartbroken and miserable. But then you showed up, and you were there for me throughout all of it. I didn’t just want to show them that I’m okay. I wanted to show them that I’m okay because I have you.” She smiles at him, and all of his worries just melt away. 

Matt feels the tension in his shoulders disappear and gazes into her eyes. How can one person be so damn beautiful and smart and just… amazing? “You’re incredible, do you know that?” 

“Well, yes actually I do,” she smiles devilishly. “But compliments are always highly advised.” She bats her eyes teasingly, watches his face light up as he kisses her. He then starts his car and the engine revs as they pull out of the driveway, driving towards whatever line dancing catastrophe that’s about to come. 

He may have two left feet, but he knows damn well that Sylvie will be his right feet for him. That thought alone is enough to get him through the night.

[shellbilee]

Classic - A Henry Cavill FanFiction

Yay it's here! For those of you who have been following my fic, thank you, you guys are amazing and I can't wait to hear what you think of this one! Special thanks to @tumblnewby for their continued support and cheering on, you, my darling, are an angel.

Please like, reblog and comment!

B x

Chapter 8

Belle's POV:

What the fuck do I wear on a date with Henry Cavill? I let out an exasperated sigh as I looked back at my reflection in my bedroom mirror, smirking when I realised that that was a question I never in a million years thought I'd have to ask. I turned around and looked down at Kyah as she lay on my bed with her head between her paws, her brown eyes gazing up at me affectionately. "What do you think girl? What should I wear?". I smiled and bent to kiss her head when she blinked and let out a soft sigh, turning back to my wardrobe and flicking through the coat hangers.

I had no idea where Henry was taking me since apparently it was a surprise. So how was I supposed to know what to wear? Was it just lunch? Was it an activity? God, what if it was something obscure like rock climbing or horse riding? I shook my head as I spied my favourite leather skirt on a coat hanger, chuckling to myself when I tried to imagine myself horse riding while wearing it. No, I think not. I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair, knowing that I needed to play it safe - I needed something that would be acceptable for any kind of activity, be it a meal, walking around a zoo or whatever else Henry had in store for me. What on earth was I going to wear?

I paused for a moment when I came across my favourite blue jeans - I'd spent a small fortune on them after a spontaneous trip to Oxford Street with Ash and Jayde last year. They'd been the last pair in stock and by some heavenly miracle exactly my size, the girls telling me that it was fate and that I'd had to try them on immediately. I'd fallen in love with them as soon as I'd seen myself in the fitting room mirror, my mind not even caring about the three figure price tag and deciding that I had to have them.  They were the perfect shade of medium blue, high-waisted and most importantly, perfectly fitted around my ass. Could I wear jeans on a date with Henry? Was denim too casual for a date with a celebrity?

I shook my head to ignore the million questions that my mind had suddenly fired at me, reminding myself to remember that Henry was just a guy. A normal, healthy, red blooded male who just happened to have a whole lot of money and be globally recognized for his talent and incredibly handsome face. A normal guy. Jeans would be fine. I pulled the jeans from my wardrobe and slipped them over my legs, fastening the button and turning to look back at my reflection in the mirror once again. I smiled. Perfect. 

---

Half an hour later I ran my fingers through my freshly curled waves and checked my teeth for lipstick smudges in the mirror, stepping back and admiring my finished look. I'd paired my jeans with a thin, fitted black turtle neck sweater and my favourite tan leather heeled ankle boots, my long camel coloured winter coat and checked Burberry scarf over the top. I'd styled my hair in loose, relaxed waves and had kept my makeup minimal, opting for subtle winged eyeliner and a soft, nude lip. "So what do you think Ky, does this look okay?" I asked as I turned around to face her on the bed, smiling to myself when she lifted her head and let out a soft bark. 

I turned back to the mirror and rechecked my makeup, glancing down at my rose gold watch for the time. 10.50am. Right on time. Henry would be here in a few minutes to pick me up and take me to his 'surprise' location. My mind whirred with endless possibilities as I picked up my handbag, phone and keys, wondering where on earth he would be taking me on our first date. Date. The word went off in my brain like a firework. This was really happening. I was minutes away from a date with Henry Cavill, a first date with Superman himself. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. I bent to ruffle Kyah's fluffy head and turned back to the mirror for one last check, my mind snapping up at the sound of a sudden knock at the door. I grinned at my reflection as Kyah leaped off the bed and ran out of the bedroom, my heart all of a sudden starting to race in my chest. This was actually it. I was going on a date with Henry Cavill.

---

Henry's POV:

I heard the sound of footsteps approaching as I stood at Belle's front door, the soft scent of the pink and white lilies I was holding tickling my nose and threatening to make me sneeze. I could hear Kyah barking behind the door, clearly eager to see who the new guest was, Belle's voice suddenly sounding and telling her to shush as she unlocked the front door. I sucked in a soft breath as I watched the door open in front of me, unable to stop the smile from growing on my face when my eyes landed on Belle.

I was momentarily taken aback as I looked at her, my insides stirring as I took in all of her standing in front of me. God she was stunning. "Good Morning love" I said with a soft smile, unable to help myself from openly staring. She was wearing a pair of tight blue jeans that seemed to hug her figure in all the right places, a tight black turtleneck sweater and a long camel coloured Winter coat that was loosely draped over her shoulders. "Good Morning Henry" Belle replied with a gorgeous grin, her eyes - that seemed even bigger and brighter than usual thanks to the way she'd done her makeup, crinkling as she smiled.

"You look beautiful" I said as I admired her once again, stepping forward to kiss her cheek and groaning silently when her perfume hit my nose -  a sweet and spicy peachy scent that I knew would now be forever embedded in my brain. "These are for you" I added as I handed her the bouquet, watching her smile grow even bigger as she looked over the enormous flowers. "Henry they're gorgeous. Thank you!" Belle breathed, closing her eyes briefly and leaning in to smell the brightly coloured petals, "Ever the gentleman you are. Your mother would be proud". I chuckled and shook my head, "She did always tell me to bring flowers whenever I was taking a beautiful girl on a date". Belle let out a musical laugh, her face beaming as she looked back at me, my mind once again momentarily taken aback by her smile in the second time in less than two minutes.

"I'll just go and pop these in water" Belle said, stepping back and gesturing for me to come in, "Come on in, I'll only be a moment. I think Kyah wants to say hello anyway". I smiled and stepped through the door, immediately bending down to pat a very happy looking Kyah as Belle turned and made her way into the kitchen. "Hello miss. I'm sorry it's just me today!". I laughed when she let out a small bark and tried to lick my face, her tail wagging furiously as she leaned up against me.  "I promise I'll bring him next time okay?". I smiled and gave her one final pat, standing up and wiping the fur from my pants as she looked up at me panting happily. 

"Ready to go?". I looked up at the sound of Belle's voice as she walked back down the hallway towards me, her long waves falling softly around her face as she ran her fingers through her hair. I nodded, "Absolutely". "I don't suppose you'll tell me where we are going?" Belle asked as she picked up her black aviator sunglasses from the hallway table and slipped them onto her head, "I had the hardest time getting ready since I have no idea what I'm in for". I shook my head and grinned, stepping forward to open the door and gesturing for her to pass in front of me, "As I said love, it's a surprise. And you look lovely so don't worry". Belle chuckled and shook her head as she bent to give Kyah a final pat, stepping through the front door and turning to face me as I closed the door behind me. "Can I at least have a hint?". I laughed, "Do you know what the meaning of surprise is Belle?". She only laughed as she stepped forward to lock the door behind us, turning to face me and shrugging innocently. "Apparently I don't".

I let out a laugh as we both made our way down Belle's front steps and onto the street, Belle suddenly letting out a low whistle and making me turn towards her. Her eyes were wide with surprise and I frowned as I followed her eye-line, my face relaxing when I realised what she was looking at. Ah, of course. The Bentley. "That's quite a car" Belle said softly, tearing her eyes away and turning to me with an impressed expression, "I can't say I've ever been in a Bentley before". I grinned as I stepped forward and opened the passenger door for her, bending and gesturing for her to get in. "Well, it was this or the Ducati and I didn't know how you'd react to me showing up on a bike for our first date". Belle laughed and reached up to push one side of her hair behind her ear, flashing me a gorgeous grin that once again made me pause momentarily. "Well, it wouldn't have been a deal breaker for me let's go with that". I raised one eyebrow curiously, "Perhaps I'll keep that in mind for our next date then shall I?". Belle tilted her head playfully, "Why Henry Cavill, that's a little presumptuous of you don't you think? Already thinking there's going to be a second date with me?". I grinned widely, "Do you blame me? I think you're incredible Belle. I'm hoping there's plenty more than just two dates with you". A soft red instantly crept up Belle's cheeks at my comment and I watched as she glanced down at the ground and looked back at up me through her lashes. Belle smiled, embarrassed, and bit her bottom lip, "Well that definitely makes two of us".

I grinned as she brushed passed and stepped into the car, closing the passenger door for her and walking back around to the driver's side. Sliding into the car, I stole a glance over at Belle and smiled when I saw her admiring the car, her eyes wide as she took in the cream leather and wood finishing. "Any preference for music?" I asked as I switched on the car, Belle turning to me and smiling brightly. "What are my options?". "Whatever you like" I replied as I unlocked my phone and tapped on Spotify, turning to her and offering my phone. Belle laughed, "Okay this is far too much pressure for a first date" she said as she took my phone, "What if you don't like what I listen to?". I chuckled and put on my sunglasses, "Well we won't know until you pick something will we love?". I pulled the gear-stick into drive and checked my mirrors for oncoming traffic, pulling out of the car spot and glancing over at Belle to find her concentrating intently on my phone.

The opening strains of a Coldplay song began to drift through the speakers moment later, Belle glancing up at the road and over at me before putting my phone down in the center console. "Judges?". I laughed. "Great choice, I'd give it a 9 out of 10". Belle smiled, "I can work with 9 out of 10". A comfortable silence fell over the two of us as we drove towards our destination, a soft, pale sunshine suddenly peering through the clouds and lighting up the previously grey morning. I stole a quick glance over at Belle and took in her profile as she looked out the window, my eyes running over her soft nose and full lips. I felt myself linger for longer than necessary on her lips, once again finding myself thinking about what it would be like to kiss them.  I let out a silent breath and turned back to the road, wondering if maybe, just maybe, today would be the day that I'd finally get to find out.

---

"We're almost there" I said as I took a left turn, Belle glancing over at me and offering a small smile. "I still have no idea where we are" she replied with a soft laugh, "though that's not terribly surprising since I have an awful sense of direction". I chuckled and glanced over a her, watching as she flashed a grin back at me. "I mean if I'm being honest I was lost half an hour into the drive" she added with an innocent shrug, letting out another musical laugh before turning to glance out the window again. We'd been driving for just under an hour, passing the time by trading questions back and forth in the way that only happened on a first date. I'd discovered that Belle had a very varied taste in music, liking artists from the Foo Fighters to Elton John, all the way to Frank Sinatra and other classics of the 50's and 60's. Her favourite TV shows included The Office - both the UK and US versions, The Fresh Prince of Bel Air and The Blacklist, and she was still very much a mad fan of Australian Football despite having lived out of Australia for several years. I in turn had told her all about my intense love of rugby, my Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, my four brothers and what it was like growing up with them, letting out a laugh when Belle had shaken her head and responded with 'oh your poor mother'. 

The conversation between us had flowed easily, just as it had when we'd spoken over face-time while I'd been away. Though there'd been brief periods of silence as we'd driven, they'd never once felt at all awkward or uncomfortable. Belle's presence seemed to have the opposite effect - being around her made me feel both excited and relaxed at the same time. There was just something about her that I found so incredibly endearing, something that just made me want to be around her.  I glanced over at Belle's profile for what felt like the hundredth time during the trip and smiled to myself, turning back to the road and looking up at the huge canopy of oak trees that had begun to line either side of the road. We were only minutes away now, the view of the picturesque, rolling green hills peaking through the gaps in the trees as we drove. We reached the entrance of the winery estate moments later, gravel crunching beneath the tires as I pulled up at the end of the tree-lined driveway. I pulled the gear stick into park and glanced over at Belle, her lips parted in a small smile as she looked out of the window to where we were.

"Henry this place is gorgeous" Belle breathed, tucking one side of her hair behind her ear and turning back to face me with excited eyes. "Have you been here before?" I asked as I switched the car off, looking back at Belle as she shook her head. "No but it's always been on my to-do list. I've heard so many good things about it, I've been wanting to come here for a while". I smiled, "It's definitely one of my favourites. They make the most incredible wines" I replied as we stepped out of the car, looking over to see Belle shielding her eyes from the morning sunshine. "I have a regular order placed for their Pinot" I added with a grin, locking the car and pausing as Belle walked around the car towards me. Belle raised an eyebrow as we walked towards the entrance, her lips parting in a mischievous smile. "I can't say I picked you as a Pinot man Henry". I grinned and shrugged my shoulders, "While I do love my Guinness, I find I can't say no a good Pinot". I chuckled when Belle pulled a face at the mention of the word Guinness, the two of us laughing as we reached the front door of the modern building. I pulled the door open and gestured for Belle to pass, winking at her when she looked up at me with a soft smile before brushing past. I fought the urge to groan when her sweet, peachy scent once again filled my nose, closing my eyes briefly as a shiver ran down my spine. Oh Belle.

"Do we have a reservation?" Belle asked quietly, turning to look at me over her shoulder as she stood waiting at the front reception desk. I smiled as I stepped towards her, putting my hand on the small of her back and steering her away from the desk, "We do. But not for here". Belle frowned, her face full of confusion as I led her down the long hallway to the right. "What do you me--Henry shouldn't we wait to speak to someone instead of--". "Just trust me Belle" I interrupted gently, glancing down at her wide eyed expression, "I did say it was a surprise didn't I?". She laughed, "Well yes but--". "But nothing. Just follow me and see". We reached the end of the hallway and were met with a flight of stairs, Belle raising an eyebrow when I stepped aside and gestured for her to go first. I could tell from the look on her face that she was fighting the urge to ask me a million questions, instead only flashing me a small smile and turning to make her way up the stairs. I followed her up the stairs until we reached the door at the top, stepping forward to push open the heavy wooden door and nodding for Belle to pass. A loud, familiar voice broke the silence as soon as we stepped into the room, the grin growing on my face before I could even see it's source. "Henry, son! It's so good to see you again!".

---

Belle's POV:

"Let me know when you guys are ready for some dessert okay?" Bobby asked, grinning at Henry and I as he expertly cleared our empty lunch plates, "You're going to love it, it's from our new menu". Henry grinned and tapped his finger against his glass of red, "Looking forward to it Bobby, even though I don't feel as if I could possibly fit anything else in". Bobby winked, "Oh trust me, you'll make room for this". I let out a laugh as Bobby walked away, closing my eyes briefly and inhaling the thick scents of earth, wood and wine that seemed to be filling the room. I opened my eyes and looked back at out at the view in front of us, taking a moment to once again admire the expansive views of the gorgeous, rolling hills and the picture perfect vineyard below us. I smiled, I felt full, relaxed and content.

As soon as Henry and I had walked up the stairs, we'd been met by a Bobby, the warm and hearty vineyard owner who had welcomed Henry - and myself, as if we were family he hadn't seen in years. He was tall and bald with a thick well groomed beard, a pair of thin round glasses perched on his nose that only just hid the gentle wrinkles that confirmed he was older than he initially looked. He had one of those loud, full bodied laughs that seemed to echo throughout the room and shake his entire body, and a wide, toothy grin that lit up his face every time he smiled. I liked him instantly. Henry had introduced me and told me all about how Bobby and Henry's parents were friends from way back in the day, Bobby going on to explain how he'd first met the Cavill's on one of their very first trips into London as a married couple. 

We'd spent the next hour getting a private tour around the gorgeous vineyard from Bobby, stopping intermittently to taste his delicious selection of wines as he explained the intricate details of the vine to bottle process. After that he'd led us back up onto the second floor of the winery's restaurant, the entire room completely empty except for an intimate table for two set up on the balcony overlooking the vineyard grounds. I'd felt the butterflies in my stomach as soon as I'd laid eyes on the romantic setting, looking up at Henry to find him already watching me with a soft, effortlessly handsome smile on his face that sent shivers down my spine. I could tell from his expression that he'd planned all this - down to every single detail, my mind struggling to remember the last time anyone had done anything so romantic for me. Bobby had then seated us and started us off with a gourmet platter of cheeses, meats, olives and dips, along with two glasses of Henry's favourite Pinot - which had of course, been just as good as he'd promised. Bobby was back soon after with the main course, two plates of handmade lobster tortellini in a delicate cream sauce that had made my mouth water as soon as I'd looked down at the plate. In between all of the delicious courses of food, Henry and I had once again traded laughs and stories, finally getting to know each other properly after our week of only being able to speak over the phone. 

Henry's movement across the table suddenly shook me from my thoughts, looking over to find him topping up my glass of wine. "I think I'm about a glass and a half away from having too much to drink" I said with a soft laugh, Henry chuckling and flashing me a grin that would have made my knees wobble had I been standing. "What did you think of the food?". I smiled and reached for my glass, "Amazing. That would have easily been one of the best meals I've ever had. I'm going to dream about that tortellini for days". He laughed as I took a sip of my Pinot, "And this? This is delicious" I added after I swallowed, holding my glass up and smacking my lips for emphasis. "So was it worth the surprise?" Henry asked, leaning back in his chair and watching me intently as he took a sip of his wine. I tilted my head smiled, "Absolutely".

---

"So when does the training for that start?" I asked as I tapped my fingers against my wine glass, "I mean 13km's isn't exactly small, so I'd assume you'd need to get onto your training soon since it's only a few months away?". Henry nodded thoughtfully, "Well the original plan was to start this week once all the Witcher filming was done, though that obviously fell through. So Monday I'll have my first run and see how I go time wise". We were talking about the upcoming 'Durrell Challenge' - a marathon held in May every year in Henry's home town of Jersey within the English Channel. Durrell was a wildlife conservation foundation that worked towards protecting and saving endangered species from extinction, based out of the Jersey Zoo. As he had countless happy family memories of childhood trips to the zoo, Henry explained how a few years ago he'd pledged to becoming the charity's global ambassador, wanting to raise awareness of the tireless work that the foundation did. Each year the 'Durrell Challenge' was held - a 13km road race through the streets of Jersey that ended at the zoo, the event raising much needed funds for the Durrell foundation. Henry added how he'd participated in the last two marathons, telling me how much fun he'd had competing in them and how much he was looking forward to it again in May. This year, his four brothers would also be running the race with him.

"Have you ever done a marathon before?" Henry inquired, leaning back in his chair and looking across the table at me. I nodded and took a sip of my wine, "Uh sort of, with my sister in law Mel. It was a charity fun run type thing that raised awareness for miscarriages. But it was only 10kms from memory". Henry's face softened and I shook my head suddenly knowing what he was thinking, flashing him a reassuring smile. "Not me. It was Mel. Years ago now though, when they were trying for their second". Henry nodded forlornly, "And now they've got Jake and Lola?". I smiled and nodded my head yes, surprised he'd managed to remember after I'd only told him about them a few days ago over the phone. "Good memory. Yes that's them. Jake is 9 and Lola is about to be 5. After that happened, they stopped trying and then a year later it just happened I guess. Along came Lola". Henry laughed and proceeded to ask me more questions about my brother and his family, going on to tell me more about his own nieces and nephews. All four of his brothers were married and three of them had children, Henry adding that family events and Christmas time always tended to be large, very loud events. "Do you get to go to most events? I mean surely it must be tough with your schedule". Henry shrugged, "It's more so because we each live all over the UK, we're not all just in London. I'm here - or anywhere really" Henry laughed, "My parents, and Nik and Piers are still in Jersey with their families, Simon is in London and my younger brother Charlie is up in Manchester. So whenever we do all manage get together, I do try my hardest to get there". 

We both went on to talk more about our families, Henry sharing that while he did love his job and wouldn't trade it for the world, being around his brothers often made him think about what his life would have been like had he never gotten into acting - wondering if he'd instead have a wife and kids of his own. I'd been surprised to discover that having a family was high on Henry's list of goals for himself, my face softening when he'd added how he couldn't wait to one day have a family of his own to come home to. Henry smiled and leaned back in his chair, draining the last of his glass of wine. "I don't know, I still feel like perhaps now may not be the right time for all of that though. There is still so much I want to do and achieve and I think it would be unfair to them if I did have a family. I don't want be the kind of husband or dad that is never around" he explained, reaching up to run his fingers through his thick, dark curls, "Though at the same time, is there ever really a right time?".

I tilted my head and smiled, "I guess you never really know until it happens and you're in that moment yourself. I personally don't think you can ever really plan for these things. I mean, how do you know when the right person is going to walk into your life?" I explained with small shrug, "I still like to believe that it happens when you least expect it. You know, like when you're out grabbing coffee or meeting someone through friends of friends. Or even with someone you've known for years but never thought about it in that way". "Or, when you're out walking your dog in the morning and he runs away and crashes into someone in the park" Henry added quickly, leaning forward to put his forearms on the table and flashing me his effortlessly handsome grin. I felt the smile grow on my face before I could even think about it, my heart fluttering in my chest. I laughed and shook my head, "Or exactly, when you're out walking your dog in the morning". 

The conversation tapered off into a comfortable silence, the classic, ambient jazz music that had been playing in the background suddenly changing and the opening strains of one of my favourite blue's songs began to play. I smiled and looked over at Henry, "I love this song. My dad used to play it all the time when I was growing up". Henry smiled and paused for a moment as he looked back at me, suddenly standing from his chair and stepping forward to offer me his hand. I frowned as I looked up at him, what was he doing? Hearing my unspoken question, Henry smiled again, his perfect white teeth flashing in a smile that made my insides feel like melted chocolate. "Dance with me Belle". Wondering idly if he'd somehow planned the music for this, I put my hand in his and allowed him to pull me from my seat, my stomach flip flopping when he wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me closer into his chest. In an instant I felt like I was on fire, all my senses suddenly on overdrive as my mind tried to process everything that was happening in this moment. He held my waist with one hand while the other moved to place my hand against his chest, my thoughts suddenly screaming at the feeling of his enormous muscles beneath my fingertips. His sweet, musky cologne filled my nose and I fought the urge to let out an audible moan, finally lifting my eyes to meet his and feeling my insides melt for the second time in less than a minute. Oh God. 

Gorgeous. Handsome. Sexy. There weren't enough words to properly describe Henry Cavill. From his perfectly chiseled jawline to his piercing, ice blue eyes that felt like they could see straight through me and back again, to his thick, dark tousled curls, to his enormous muscles that were barely hidden by the relaxed, black linen button up he was wearing. For a moment it all felt like a dream - and this was absolutely a scene that I'd only ever seen happen in a dream. Never in a million years did I think I'd be slow dancing with Henry Cavill after an utterly romantic first date at a beautiful winery. "You really are gorgeous Belle" Henry whispered suddenly, his velvety voice breaking my swooning thoughts as he reached up to brush a hair from my face. I laughed as we swayed together, watching as Henry looked back at me with an amused expression, "What's funny?". I smiled and shook my head, "I was just thinking that same exact thought about you". Henry grinned and extended his hand to spin me under his arm, pulling me back into him so that our chests were practically touching. Oh Henry. I smiled as looked back into his ocean blue eyes, flexing my fingers against his chest and suddenly wishing I could run my fingers through the soft hairs that were peaking through the collar of his shirt. "I've had an absolutely amazing time today Henry. Thank you, really. The whole day has been incredible, from Bobby, to the vineyard, to the food, to this right now. I've loved every second of it" I whispered softly, fighting the urge to reach up and run my fingers through his curls, "And I've really loved just spending time with you and getting to know you". Henry smiled, "You're very welcome Belle. I hope it's made up for me having to reschedule our date. And for minding Kal". I chuckled, "Oh it's definitely made up for all of that. Not that you needed to make it up to me for minding Kal. He was a pleasure". 

Henry shook his head and laughed, "You know I think he was almost a little annoyed to be home with me last night. Usually he follows me around like a shadow after I've been away. But it was like after the initial excitement of seeing me wore off, he just stayed in his bed by the door waiting to go again". I dropped my head back and laughed, "What can I say? He must have had far too much fun with Kyah and I". Henry only chuckled, shaking his head as he looked at me, his eyes watching my face intently as we swayed to the gentle rhythm in the empty room. I felt my face heat with the way he was looking at me, my cheeks blushing a soft shade of red as Henry tightened his arm around my waist and watched me. I smiled and tilted my head, "What's going through that head of yours Mr? You look like you're deep in thought there". Henry nodded, his eyes slowly traveling up and down my face. "Care to share?" I asked when he hadn't answered with words, letting out a surprised squeak when he lifted his arm to spin me before pulling me back tight against his chest. 

"I was just thinking, how incredible I think you are Belle" Henry breathed, his eyes flickering down to my lips and lingering for a long moment, "And how I feel like I could I watch you talk and laugh for hours and never get sick of your gorgeous smile". My face flamed and in an instant my heart was racing, my lips parting in an involuntary smile at his words. Charming should be Henry's middle name. Henry shook his head incredulously and nodded, "That one. That smile right there. That's the one I could never get sick of seeing". I bit my lip and glanced down at the ground and back up at Henry, the two of us looking back at one another, blue eyes to green. He stopped swaying and released my hand to place it on the other side of his chest, his now free hand reaching up to gently tuck one side of my hair behind my ear and coming to rest on my face.

"Do you know what else I've been thinking?" Henry whispered, his eyes never leaving mine as his thumb caressed my cheek. My heart was racing now, the pulse heavy in my ears and so loud I was sure that he could hear it too, my mind barely able to concentrate on his words as I realised what was about to happen. "What's that?" I breathed, my voice barely louder than a whisper. "I've been thinking" Henry answered slowly, his eyes once again lowering to my lips and back again, "About what it would be like to finally get to kiss you Belle". All of a sudden it was as if time slowed down and everything was happening in slow motion, my breath hitching in my throat as I watched Henry bend forward to close the space between us. I closed my eyes as I waited for the inevitable, my heart pounding in my chest as he held me tight against him, his hand cupping my cheek. Henry. He kissed me then, his mouth pressing against mine in a soft, gentle kiss that took the breath right out of my lungs, his lips full and pillowy and exactly as I imagined they'd be.

---

**(If anyone is interested) the song that Henry & Belle dance to is ‘It Had To Be You’ by Ray Charles

Chapter 9

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[whatsseobb]

By the Mirror (Nicky x Jan) - One Shot

AO3 Link [A/N: So uhmm this is just a very late night work and I have no idea why I wrote this but I was just inspired and was at awe by this picture I saw of Nicky I think from Vegas for press week (maybe??) and she was just so hot. Also, a friend gave me a prompt “My eyes are up here.” This is my first time after a loooong time to write and post a smut so forgive me. 👉 👈  So yeah, I hope you enjoy!] Summary: She noticed the other girl cleared her throat and take a quick gulp as she shifted her eyes on the French girl’s face, which made her smirk bigger. “You know, if you just ask nicely, you will be granted.”

By the Mirror 

 The sound of clacking heels, racks of dresses and pieces of clothing rolling around the area, and chattering voices surrounded the huge backstage area as the performers prepared for their weekend show by the club. The loud music from the stage tried its best to conceal the different conversations the audience were having as they waited and talked with their drinks in hand. The managers and assistants were scrambling around the floor as they made their final check-ins of the clothes the dancers were going to wear for their performances. Meanwhile, the performers were sat in front of a wall of mirrors, some practicing their performance while some had their stylists focusing on their hair and their makeup look for the evening. One of the stylists employed for that night was Jan.

Jan had started working for the company not long ago so she was not yet very much familiar with everyone in the workplace. She was friendly though, it was not hard for her to make any new friends or be acquainted with the performers she work with. For that show, she was assigned to work with two clients. She had only met the first girl and that’s the one she was styling at the moment. She stood there in front of the brunette girl as she put on some eyeshadow color that matched perfectly with the color of her dress. They were getting acquainted, having little chats as she put on her makeup.

Contrasting to the performers’ extravagant outfit, Jan was wearing something simple, making her difficult to spot against the small crowd on the backstage. For tonight, she decided to put on a white v-neck shirt, which she deeply regretted after the first time she put on an eyeshadow color on her client’s face as it brushed some powder on her clean white shirt. She had a pair of jean shorts on, coupled with purple sneakers, her favorite color. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, strands of her hair falling on the sides of her face, shaping it beautifully. She was undeniably attractive, also enhanced by her amazing makeup skills which she was known for. That night, she decided to put on a simple look to pair with her simple clothing choice, just her normal eyebrows, a winged eyeliner on top of a gradient purple eyeshadow, and a nude lip. She looked so simple, yet so gorgeous. When she made her way into the backstage earlier that evening, some even assumed she was a performer and almost made her sit down in front of the mirrors.

“Have you all seen Nicky?” A black-haired lady entered, she was wearing a white pansuit which accentuated her body and power, allowing everybody to give way to her as she pranced in the middle chaos in the backstage. Jan assumed she was the owner of the club named Widow who she only spoke through the phone. Her loud voice vibrated across the room, as she looked for her main performer. “I am so close to firing her ass.”

Just as she was uttering her words, a French girl came in wearing a light blue metallic coat which hovered on her shoulder, her mesh black mesh body suit with a black leather corset wrapped around her waist covered her slim and sexy body. Her ample chest was barely covered by a small black bra underneath her almost see-through body suit. Her look was paired with a thigh-high leather boots. Her short silver hair was messily covering half of her bare face which slightly annoyed the club owner.

“I heard you were looking for me.” Her thick accent rang on Jan’s ears as she was helping her client. She lifted her head for a second to look for where the voice was coming from only to see an almost-drunk yet attractive woman coming to the backstage. She had a drink in hand which she assumed was alcohol. The blonde girl was sure she hadn’t met her before but she was also sure she had never seen such beautiful woman in her life. She caught herself staring into her beauty, watching her as she brushed her fingers through her silver hair. She was put into a stop as she heard the stylist beside her clear her throat, her eyes rolling at the sight of the main performer.

“You know, I heard that that girl is a bitch.” The ginger-haired girl on her other side commented, starting a conversation with the curly-haired girl on the opposite side of Jan.

“Oh yes. She’s really bossy. I wish I’ll never work for her ever again.” The other responded. This made the blonde curiously look at the attractive lady from across the room. “I don’t even know why she get to have her own room. Who is she?”

“Well, child, apparently she’s the best performer her in this club. She receives a lot of tips from the audience. Listen to them later when she is performing, you’ll be gagged.”

“And what does it have to do with owning a room? She’s not that special, I think.” The ginger-haired girl rolled her eyes as she curled her client’s long black hair.

“I don’t know too, I just know Widow wouldn’t even really fire her. She’s her best earner.” The two of them shrugged before continuing back to work, making Jan glanced at the tall lady, definitely intrigued.

“Where have you been, Nicky? You’re about to be on stage in an hour and yet you are still not prepared.” Widow scoffed towards the tall French girl.

“Can’t you see? I’m very much prepared now. Look at this.” Nicky turned around to show her outfit to the club owner who was deeply unimpressed. As she was making a circle, her foot stepped on the hem of her light blue coat which made her stumble. It didn’t miss Widow’s eyes which added to her annoyance with her employee. She leaned in and sniffed, noticing a hint of alcohol under her breath.

“Nicky! Are you drunk?”

The tall lady hiccupped before shaking her head. “No! No, I’m not. Anyway, I’ll be in my room. Is my stylist there? I need to get my hair and makeup done.” This made Jan gulped on her place as she tried to focus her attention on the girl she was working with. After hearing the other stylist’s comments about the French, she became afraid of being paired with her. She surely was gorgeous however, there was something in her stance that made the blonde nervous as she felt the aura coming off of her really did leave a scary impression. Somehow, a wish came across her mind and she hoped to herself that the girl wasn’t the second client she was assigned with.

 A hand reached her shoulder as she received a pat from the head stylist. “Girl, your next customer has arrived. If I were you, I won’t make her wait.” She quickly tried to finish the first girl’s makeup and made some quick touches to her hair before she received a nudge from the head stylist. “Go. I’ll finish this one for you. ”

Before she could even ask where her assigned performer was, she was pointed to the small door by the end of the backstage. The lights and the sign outside the room made it easily known for the people to identify who the owner of the room was. Jan picked up her makeup bag and hurriedly walked to the door, her knees slightly trembling as she headed to the room with the sign that said “Nicky”.

“Don’t you know how to knock? And where have you been? Ugh, you’re so slow.” The attitude from the French girl’s voice was obvious as it echoed on Jan’s ear. She entered the room in a deliberate pace. She saw the lady sitting in front of the mirror, her legs crossed exposing her bare thighs. She settled down and put her makeup bag on the table and started cleaning up the brushes before she used them again.

“Wait, who are you?” With an eyebrow raised, Nicky turned her eyes to look at the blonde girl in front of her. “Where’s Jaida? She’s the one always assigned to me.”

“Uhm, Nicky, Jaida was on a rest day today. She called in earlier that she won’t be able to work so they assigned you to me.”

“Nicky? Don’t you have manners?” The raised eyebrow on Nicky’s face remained on her face as she annoyingly look at the girl in front of her. “Are you new here? People call me Ma’am.”

“Oh, yes Ma’am. I’m sorry.” Jan cursed herself under her breath as picked up a thin angle brush and her eyebrow palette to start on with the makeup. She didn’t want to go against the performer’s side so she worked as quietly as she can.

She was typically not the silent type and would literally chat with her clients as she do her work but there was just something about this French woman in front of her that made her weak in the knees. The only reason that she could think of for now was that how scary the girl was. She didn’t want to lose her job so she just decided to be as obedient as she can, at least for the night. She wished that would be the first and last night she would be working with this girl.

As Jan was choosing a color to match Nicky’s outfit, she found herself staring on the girl’s clothes far too long. The French girl was quick to notice where the blonde’s eyes were which made her raise her eyebrow out of habit once more. “Where are you looking at? My eyes are up here.” She said with a gruff voice, looking up at the girl in front of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jan blinked confusedly as she tried to bring back herself to her train of thoughts as she put on a deep smokey eyelook on Nicky’s face. She did her best to focus on her face but being up close with the French lady took her breath away. Added with the mesh suit wrapped around the client’s body, it made her mind clouded with thoughts.

The blonde was silently working on the woman’s face, moving closer to her as she put a pair of fake lashes on her lids, not that she really needed them. Jan noticed her small beautiful face, which she thoughts was more stunning than just looking at it from far away. The silver-haired girl’s voice broke the silence, also crumbling down her thoughts.

“Hey, what’s your name again?” The client in front of her asked after a while of quietly scrolling through her phone.

“Jan. My name’s Jan, Ma’am.” She made sure to add the last word, not forgetting their first encounter earlier.

“Jan. I like that name. Now tell me, Jan, what are you looking at?” A slight smirk crept on Nicky’s face as she drew tiny circles on her bare thighs, looking up at the blonde in front of her. She noticed the other girl cleared her throat and take a quick gulp as she shifted her eyes on the French girl’s face, which made her smirk bigger. “You know, if you just ask nicely, you will be granted.”

“W-what do you mean, Ni- I mean Ma’am?” This time, beads of sweat were streaming down her head as she felt the atmosphere getting warmer. It made her glance towards the air condition unit which she was so sure didn’t change temperature. However, her body was exerting heat in ways she couldn’t explain.

With a sweet voice, the silver-haired girl said, “I saw you looking at me from across the room earlier. I know I had a few drinks before I came here but I knew that look. You want me.”

The confidence in Nicky’s voice sent shivers down the blonde’s spine as she tried her best to focus on the makeup palette and the brush she was holding as she did her makeup. “I don’t know what you mean. Anyway, I think we have to make this quick. You’re about to perform in a few minutes.”

Nicky glanced at the wall clock near the door before smiling to herself. “I still have time. The thing that needs to be quick is this.” She raised her hand up and brushed it slightly on the other girl’s thigh which left a tingling sensation on her skin. Now, Jan can’t deny it. The lingering feeling on her thigh from Nicky’s touch only added to the growing heat between her legs. She knew what her body was going through and she could deny it no longer.

The French girl felt the gradual change on Jan’s face as she slowly submitted to her desires. She stood up from her seat and pressed her body against the blonde, pushing her slightly onto the desk in front of her mirror. Her eyes made its way from her plump lips towards Jan’s dark orbs as her finger traced up to her waist, a smirk making a reappearance on her cherry-tinted lips. She leaned in, closing the gap between their faces as their lips met, placing a soft kiss on the blonde. Jan froze on her place, her eyes bulging widely as the taller girl move closer to her.

Nicky got what she expected. It didn’t take a while before she felt the other girl’s lips moving against her, craving for the taste of her mouth. She pulled her closer by the waist, closing the smallest distance their bodies had, as she offered her a hungry smooch. Their lips moved in harmony, taking in as much taste as they can, roughly kissing. Jan’s hands slowly placed the makeup brush she was holding on top of the desk but Nicky grasping her ass made it impossible. She dropped the brush on the floor which they just both ignored as they continue to share a passionate kiss. With her hands free, the blonde placed it on the tall girl’s neck, holding her face closer to her if it was even possible. She gradually parted her legs, letting Nicky positioned herself in between them.

The French had a small smile on her face as she felt the blonde grinding up against her thigh which she placed in between her legs, pressing against her clothed core. A moan escaped from Jan’s lips as Nicky traced her lips from her jaw down to her neck, placing light kisses on it. “Mhmm.” Sounds kept vibrating on her throat as she let the tall girl roam her body, her hands sneaking under her white v-neck shirt and pressing against her breasts. It didn’t take long for Nicky to unhook her bra before she placed her hands underneath, feeling the warmth of her chest against her cold hands, her fingers flickering on her hard nips.

Even though Jan felt weak, her knees wobbling even at the slightest touch from her, she used her strength to run her hands on the other’s body, making their way towards her waist. Just before she was about to grope her chest, a hand quickly stopped her. Nicky pulled away with the same cunning smirk from earlier before she whispered, “I told you, you just have to ask nicely.” It made the blonde girl roll her eyes in response before sexily biting her lower lip, looking sensually towards the taller girl.

“Please?” Her pleads earned a sneer laugh from Nicky. In an instant, she was granted her permission, the silver-haired girl placing her hand on top of her chest, letting her massage it softly as she tried to remove her leather corset, letting Jan’s hand creep underneath her black mesh top. The blonde, wanting to have a better look, hurriedly unhooked her black bra and pulled her closer to her. She positioned her bra up only to expose her ample breast and her hard pinkish nipples which Jan enjoyed playing with. As she let her finger draw circles around her nipples, a soft moan that Nicky had been trying to suppress escaped her cherry-tinted lips. With that, the blonde pulled her closer to her, leaning down as she take in her left breast in her mouth.

Loud oohs and ahhs echoed inside the performer’s room as Jan continued to suck on her chest. It didn’t take much time to get another moan from the blonde as Nicky let her hand travel down the stylist’s pair of shorts, sliding it underneath as she let her fingers feel the wetness in between her thighs. Her clothes were soaking wet, her legs spreading wider as she permitted the French lady touch her anywhere she would desire.

Without any warning, Nicky slid a finger inside the blonde’s wet core, a loud, yet pleasured sound breaking out from Jan’s throat. Her chest was moving up and down deeply as she tried to catch her breath from the lady’s touch. Her hand roughly groping onto the other’s chest as she felt another finger being inserted in her. She was mercilessly being fingered by the silver-haired girl, moans continuously escaping her lips.

The blonde wrapped her arms around Nicky’s neck as she ran her fingers through her silver hair, slightly grasping on it for support as she felt herself getting closer. She arched her back, leaning against the huge mirror behind her as she rolled her hips against the lady’s fingers. Meanwhile, the taller girl’s lips left kisses around Jan’s fair skin, light marks visible from all the sucking.

It didn’t take a while before the blonde’s legs straightened, her toes pointing out as she rode her climax, the other lady continuously fingering in and out of her as she felt her warm juice coat her hand. She gladly pulled it out and gazed at the sticky substance on her skin before licking her fingers sexily, her eyes fixated on Jan’s dark orbs. “Do you want some?”

The blonde nodded, receiving a smirk from Nicky. “What did I say?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” And with that, the tall girl placed her fingers in between Jan’s lips, letting her have a taste of herself. After licking her fingers clean, Nicky leaned in and gave Jan a hungry kiss which the latter gladly accepted.

“You have to be on stand-by in five.” A knock on the door was heard which caused a slight panic on Jan. She quickly fixed herself before she felt the French’s hand on her chin. She pulled her closer into another kiss, this time much more passionate and sensual, which made the blonde crave for more. As Nicky was about to pull away, she felt the other’s hands on her waist, pulling her closer.

“Oh, you’re very hungry and eager.” A small pout visible on Jan’s lips as she begged her to stay with her pleading eyes. “Babe, I have to be on stage in a while.” Nicky spoke as she fixed her clothes, quickly putting on a dark-colored lipstick, brushing her messy hair with her fingers, leaving it in disarray from their steamy session a few minutes prior. “Shall we continue after this? I’ll show you something they will never get to see on stage.”

“Sure, Ma’am.”

[A/N: Okay bye I’m gonna hide in my shell for awhile jgsjdgjsj] 

[yeetingmyfeeling]

A Rose Tattoo

Chapter Seven

Lily had almost her whole body in the wardrobe, locking for something decent to wear. She would think she found something, then decide it wasn’t good enough and toss it out. Several articles of clothing flew past, or hit, Remus. 

She was mumbling to herself, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Remus pulled the skirt off that had hit him in the face and stood up. HE grabbed Lily’s shoulder and gently pulled her out of the wardrobe. 

“Go shave, shower, wash your body, hair,” Remus listed it off. “Go do whatever cleansing stuff you do,”

“B-but my outfit..” Lily mumbled. “What on earth do I wear!?”

“I’ll sort it,” Remus reassured with a friendly smile. “Go shower, go on,”

Lily just sighed in defeat and trudged into their shared bathroom. Remus spun around, looking at the mess of clothes. 

He’s gay. What the fuck do women like to wear to feel good. So he turned to the two people who could actually help. 

“So,” Mary laughed. He had faced time her and Marlene on their messenger group chat. Jake had also joined. Remus had Lily’s phone, plus she was showering. “You need us to help you plan an outfit for Lily?”

“Well yes,” Remus confirmed. “I simply don’t know how girls… work??” He sounded very unsure. His friends nodded their heads. 

“What kind of clothes does she have?” Marlene asked.

“Wearable ones? I’m confused,” 

“Clearly. Show us her wardrobe,” Mary said.

“That’s more her room right now,” Remus mumbled. He panned the phone camera around, going through her clothing.

“Where are they going?” Jake finally spoke up.

“To a pub,” Remus answered.

“Oh! I got it!” Marlene shouted. There was shouting heard through the speaker, Marlene saying sorry, before turning back to the camera. “Remus go get that black tee. No the other one, that’s not even black, yeah that one. Okay now go get that long high waisted skirt, the yellow one. High waisted as in it sits high on the wa- she only has one long yellow skirt! Yes, that one.”

“Remus, my boy,” Jake tuttued. “You’re hopeless,”

“Shut up, you are a child,” Remus responded. 

“Go over to her shoes,” Mary ordered. Remus did as said. Mary hummed as she thought then gasped when she saw the perfect ones. “Those! The short brown heels! No, the boot looking ones. Yep!”

Remus set up all the clothes and laid them out on the bed. He faced the camera to his clothing person. Everyone agreed that would look good.

“What about jewelry?” Jake gasped. 

“What about these?” Remus asked, uncertain. He held a short heavy gold necklace, and a long necklace with an almost spear at the end to the camera. Everyone said yes. “See, I’m not so hopeless,”

“And when are you next going out on a date, Mr. Lupin?” Marlene asked. 

She did have a boyfriend, they met at college. Jake also has a girlfriend, his high school sweetheart. Mary was going for Sirius. Lily was currently getting ready for a date.

Remus huffed. “Mary doesn’t have a boyfriend,” He mumbled.

“Just you wait, I will get Sirius,” Mary said determined.

“But really Remus, do you currently have anyone you fancy?” Jake turned serious.

“This is about Lily,” Remus put the conversation back on track. He held up gold cross earrings and a slightly thicker than thin gold bracelet. He added it to the necklaces. 

“I’ll send a photo of how she should have her hair and makeup, our poor Remus’ brain would explode if I tried to explain it,” Mary mocked.

“Okay, okay. I’ll send you guys a photo,” He then left the call just as Lily walked out. 

“I shaved  my coochie, I don’t know if I should have,” Lily announced, standing wither her towel wrapped around her body. “Is that going to far?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable?” Remus provided, uncomftorbale. Lily just nodded and looked at the outfit laid out on her bed. “Get changed into those, I had Mary, Marlene and Jake help,”

Lily just nodded. She took off her towel and began getting changed. Remus had the decency to turn around, even though they have seen each other naked multiple times. They were one anothers firsts after all.

Remus turned back around to see Lily with the clothes on. He helped her put on the jewelry, then assisted in makeup, which was just passing her the products. Same with hair.

She pulled on her shoes, and after five minutes, decided on perfume. Another five minutes and she had a handbag.

“How do I look?” She asked shyly.

“Gorgeous,” Remus said, breathless. He knew Lily was beautiful, she always has been inside and out, but wow.

The shirt fit tightly, accenting her breasts nicely. The skirt was tight around her waist but flowed nicely. Her shoes added some extra height, which is always nice, especially in her opinion. Her makeup wasn’t too drastic, but it showed off her green eyes and freckles across her cheeks. Her hair was pinned down on one side, the rest of her hair fluffy resting on her shoulder.

Lily blushed. “Thanks,” She checked her phone. “Oh god, he’s here,” She looked up at Remus in panic.

He smiles comfortingly. “You will do great. Go out, have a good time.”

Lily just nodded, hyping herself up. She bid goodbye to Remus, giving him a kiss on the cheek then leaving.

Shit, he forgot a photo. Oh well.

He went to their kitchen and made himself some ramen to eat for when he goes and binges some new anime series. He was thinking about starting Vampire Knight.

~~~

As Remus was halfway through episode eight of Vampire knight, he heard the door open and close. He paused the show and looked over his shoulder, seeing Lily leaning against the wall, a happy smile on her face.

“So it went well?” Remus mused.

“Went well? Remus it went great,” Lily sighed, walking over and sitting on the couch next to Remus. She laid down, putting her head in her friends lap.

He begun running his fingers through her hair.

“He picked me up in his car, said I looked absolutely gorgeous. Then he asked about my day, and my week. He opened the door for me, pulled out my chair for me. He was such a gentleman. He shouted food and drinks. Oh it was lovely. Oh! He…”

Lily continued to talk about her date, trying to fit in every detail. Remus listened intently, smiling. He would nod or ‘mhm’ where was needed, but she was content and happy. Once she finished talking Remus smirked.

“To think at the beginning you said you could never like him,” Remus brought up. “When do you think you started to develop feelings?”

“When I knew he got the flowers for me,” Lily thought. “As soon as he asked what my favourite flowers were, that’s when.” Remus aww’d.

~~~

Remus was so tired. Today it just so happened to be busy. Lily and Marlene were at uni, he had no idea about Mary, and Jake called in sick. A few minutes after he turned the sign from closed to open, it was customer after customer. When he finally got a break from the customers, all the orders came in and he had to sort through those.

It had been twenty minutes since he had seen the last customer and boy was he happy. He went to go make a coffee and sort through the orders once more. Making sure he had gotten all the right ones, people were coming to pick them up, things like that.

Then he remembered.

He has to deliver Sirius’ flowers.

He could very well send Marlene or Lily over when they come in, but something was pulling at him to do it himself.

Right as he thought this, the bell rang. Remus looked up, seeing Marlene walk in.

“Marlene! My saviour!” He cried. “It’s been so busy Marl’s, so so busy,”

Marlene laughed and patted his head. “You poor thing. Also Mary is sick as well, I dropped by her place on my way here. I think she’s worse than Jake..”

“She’s hungover, isn’t she?” Remus asked. Marlene nodded. “Should've guessed.”

Marlene laughed. She clocked on then checked with Remus on the orders. She gave the flowers a quick water and picked out all the dead or dying flowers. She put the dead flowers in a vase without water, and the dying ones in a vase with water.

She found two bunches of Rose’s in the orders and asked Remus about them.

“Shit, right,” Remus scratched the back of his head. “I have to go deliver these to Sirius across the street,”

“Mary would be jealous,”

“Well she shouldn’t be hungover,”

Marlene laughed. “Alright, you do that, I’ll take over,”

“Thanks Marls,” Remus grinned. He made sure his phone was in his pockets. He grabbed the rose’s and traveled across the street.

He wouldn’t admit it, but he struggled to open the door. He did it in the end though. Watching the door close behind him, he turned around with a sigh, but smirked when he saw James Potter at the counter.

“Hello and welcome to Black’s Tatt’s, how can I help you today?” James greeted.

Remus and James have never properly met. He had only seen James when he comes into the shop, but never had a proper meeting.

“Oh,” James eyed widened in realization. “You must be from across the street, with Sirius’ flowers orde- Oh! You’re Remus!”

Remus laughed lightly. “How was the date the other night?”

“I’m sure Lily told you,” James went all shy. “But it was really good, I really like Lily,”

“I could tell,”

“Would she want to go on another date?”

“God yes, hurry up and ask her,”

“I will when I get off work. I’ll go grab Sirius.”

James spun around on his spinny chair, Remus instantly wanted one, and went off to go find Sirius.

Remus walked closer to the counter and looked around. It was nice, and it felt comfortable. Which is always good when you run a place where you stab people with needles.

James returned, with Sirius by his side.

There were no customers in the shop.

“Hiya Remus!” Sirius greeted gleefully, a smile on his face lighting the whole room up. 

He wasn’t tall, but he also wasn’t short. He would be just over Remus’ shoulder. He looked skinny, especially around the waist, but you could tell he had muscles, bulging slightly on the biceps, arms in general, and thighs.  He had black hair that just hit his shoulders. It looked ruffled, yet both silky and soft at the same time. The startings of a beard on his face, giving him that sexy stubble most men couldn’t pull off. His eyes were a silvery grey, looking right into his soul. They had a past hiding behind them, Remus could tell that much. He wore a Guns N’ Roses shirt. The sleeves went down to his elbows and were black, as well as the collar. The rest of the shirt was white, the front and back hanging lower than the sides. They were matched with very tight fitting black jeans, that had rips in random places. On his feet were a pair of torn black and white converse. Those pants did wonders for Sirius’ legs, Remus thought. He had a cigarette tucked behind his ear and a lighter in his hand that he was sliding into his pocket. He carried himself with confidence, but with a hint of goofiness. Remus hoped he could get to know him more.

“Hi Sirius,” Remus returned the smile.

“I was about to go for a smoke, so you have good timing,” Sirius leaned over the counter once he reached it, smiling at Remus. “I’m guessing those are the flowers for me?”

“Sure are,” Remus confirmed. 

“Aw you shouldn’t have,” Sirius chuckled. “Actually, we have a minor issue. I don’t have any vase’s,”

“Oh,” Remus went to scratch his face, remembering he was holding flowers he decided not to. “We have some at the shop, if you would like to come see?”

“Okay!” Sirius was suddenly excited. “Let me get those out of your hands,” he grabbed the flowers out of Remus’ hands and handed them to James. “Take care of these while I’m gone,”

James rolled his eyes. “Don’t be gone too long,”

“Yes, Prongs,” Sirius replied. He walked out from behind the counter and walked with Remus out the door.

“Prongs?” Remus queried.

“It’s a nickname for James. Mine is Padfoot, and our other friend, Peter, is Wormtail,” Sirius explained. Remus just nodded silently.

They walked into his shop and Marlene welcomed them. “Welcome back Remus, and friend… Sirius, right?”

Sirius saluted. “The one and only, I think,” Marlene laughed.

Remus led him to the vase’s. There were a selection of tall ones, thin ones, small ones, and fat ones. 

Sirius picked up two that caught his interest. They were tall and went from wide at the top, to even wider. In a nice white colour. “These two, please.”

They went up to the counter and Remus rung them through. Once Sirius had paid for those, they went back over to the tattoo shop.

Remus wanted to sit down.

Remus helped Sirius put the flowers in the vase’s, with the right amount of water. He told the shorter boy how to take care of them. Then Sirius gave him the cash.

“Thank you for this, Remus,” Sirius said earnestly.

“I’m just doing my job,” Remus chuckled. “I’ll see you around I suppose?”

“Yeah, probably next Monday,” Sirius smirked.

Remus laughed, said goodbye to James, then left. He wanted, no needed, to sit down. When he got in the shop, he acknowledged Lily with a small wave and instantly went into his office. He crashed into his chair and laid his head on the desk. 

“Hello my dearest friend,” Lily said sarcastically, popping her head through the doorway.

Remus just grunted, then he heard his phone buzz. He pulled out his phone and read the text.

Sirius Black:

After all that, I completely forgot to tell you 

I have your flower notebook

Sirius Black:

Want to go for coffee again?

I can give it back to you then,

Unless you would like it sooner

[infiniteshawn]

Pierced

a/n: tattoo artist!Shawn AU. 2.1k. just a lil somethin’ i was thinking about. enjoy

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves as you eyed the dingy building. It wasn’t the best pocket of town and it definitely wasn’t the best decision you’d ever made in your life, but it was decided—you were getting another ear piercing.

“Ready?” your best friend, Shelby, asked. You’d done this a few times, yes, but it was always a good idea to have someone with you under circumstances like these.

“Yeah,” you nodded, trying to convince her just as much as you were yourself, “I need this, right? It’s time for change, all that?” you babbled, talking with your hands as the two of you crossed the street, your Blundstones clunking on the asphalt as Shelby’s high-heeled boots without a doubt looked and sounded better.

“You don’t have to do this,” she shook her head in disapproval, not too keen on your coping mechanisms. Not all of us could just fly to Paris for the weekend, Shelby.

“Yes, I do. I need to even them out anyw-“ you began, stopping dead in your tracks at the sight of the brunette behind the counter. His features were strong and chiseled as he scrolled on the mounted tablet, the light from the screen illuminating his face. It’s a good face, you thought to yourself.

But your thoughts were interrupted—no, de-fucking-railed--as Shelby smacked into your backside, clearly not noticing that you’d stopped and she kept going. Of course, pretty boy was looking right at you.

No turning back now. You silently cursed your bestie as the two of you sauntered over to the desk, exchanging a knowing glance. There was no denying it—he was fucking gorgeous.

Once you were standing in front of him, you could really take notice of the rest of him. He was gigantic, to start. Muscular and buff, filling out his thin white t-shirt perfectly. He fit the setting, too. Each arm was covered in ink, too much art adorning his skin to fathom in the short time you had. Your eyes raked up his body, finally settling on the face that initially took your breath away. Only this time, it was smiling right back at you.

“Can I help you?” he asked—and not in the rude way that people usually said it—a warm, kind version that had you ready to jump him on the spot. Your stomach twirled as you took notice of the thin silver hoop in his right nostril, matching the one in his left earlobe.

Shelby looked around the tattoo shop as you gently rested your forearm on the desk—Sweetcheeks taking obvious notice—and tousled your hair a bit. “I’m actually here to get a cartilage piercing, if that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay,” he chuckled, ejecting a wooden drawer with a clipboard in it. He handed it to you with a pen, “Just fill this out. M’ready when you are.”

You gulped, wondering if you should fill it out over in the seating area or right there at the desk. Does it make a fucking difference? Jesus, you’re acting like you’ve never done this before.

You opted for the latter, gripping the pen in your left hand as you started printing out your name, birthday, phone number, emergency contact information, all that. It was just a waiver, spewing terrifying garbage along the lines of liability issues in the case that you pass out or throw up or drop dead or explode because the guy piercing your ear was so fucking hot.

“That’s intense,” Shelby spoke over your shoulder, startling you to the point of gasping. Maybe this isn’t the best idea.

“And so it should be,” most-gorgeous-man-you’d-ever-seen-in-your-life piped up, “this is very serious business,” he was very obviously joking. His raised eyebrow and wide grin revealing his perfect fucking teeth made that clear, and you let out a nervous giggle. This was going to be a long twenty minutes.

You nodded at him, handing over the clipboard and pulling out your debit card.

You paid and took a deep breath, watching as he stood from his desk. Holy fuck, giant much? He must have been nine feet tall. Okay, maybe just over six. But damn.

“M’gonna wait out here,” Shelby winked in your direction, leaning over to gently smack your bum as receptionist-tattoo-man-piercer led to way to a little room at the back of the shop. You blushed, mouthing a “thank you” in her direction as you trailed after him like an expectant puppy.

You watched the way his muscles shifted beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, and then the tightness of the black denim clad to his gigantic legs, and then his pointy boots. Large pointy boots. You were swooning. This was bad.

“Sure you can handle it?” he turned his head and spoke teasingly, stopping to let you into the room first. You slowed down, turning to face him in passing.

Without a word, you tucked your hair behind your right ear, revealing six earrings. Three in your lobe, two in your cartilage, and one in your tragus. He nodded with a grin.

“Ah, a veteran,” the man quipped as you sat on the leather cot-like reclining chair. He stood at a table with drawers, rapidly opening and closing them in search of the right surgical steel bar for the job. “Alright, you know the drill. Where’d you say you wanted it?” he asked, parking himself right in front of you with a purple marker in-hand. You’d be kidding yourself if you weren’t thinking about taking him right here on this bench.

“Oh, um,” you stuttered, caught off guard by his expectant gaze. He looked rough, but his eyes were gentle. You wondered what his life was like outside the studio. “Left, just above this one,” you stated, pulling your hair to one side to show him what you meant.

“Oh, it’s different,” he wondered out loud, confusing you.

“What?”

“Oh, I just meant from the other one,” he muttered, pointing to your right ear. “They’re not in the same places. I like that.”

“O-oh,” you suppressed a grin, “thanks.”

And suddenly he was really fucking close and you were ready to explode. You wondered if this happened often and if any other lucky girls had spontaneously combusted in this very room, leaving him to clean up the bloody mess.

You felt his fingers resting on your cheekbone to steady your head as the marker inked a little dot on your ear, his breath tickling your neck and ready to make you fucking lose it. Again, this was bad.

“So,” you started as he leaned away, cocking his head to the side to assess the placement. “How long’ve you been doing this?”

“This for four years, tattooing for five,” he mumbled, biting his lip softly as he intensely eyed the shell of your ear. “No, I don’t like it,” he spoke, reaching for an alcohol wipe to rub the ink off your skin. You giggled, appreciating his dedication to the craft as he drew another dot. “Better. You can go have a look in the mirror.”

“I trust you,” you chuckled, only to be met with his questioning grin. “I mean, you’ve been doing this a while. And that took way longer than it should have, so,” he huffed out a laugh and you were pretty sure you were actually, physically, quite literally fucking melting. “And I already have so many, what’s one more? Even if it’s a little fucked up.”

He was laughing out loud, now.

“I’ll just leave you a bad Yelp review or something,” you added, picking at your cuticles out of nervousness.

“Can’t leave a juicy review if you don’t know my name,” he joked, almost as if he was prompting you to ask. You didn’t have to. “So if you must know, my name’s Shawn.”

“How do I know that’s not a premeditated pseudonym for when I leave that shitty Yelp review?” you smiled, watching him shake his head as he beamed from the little table, snapping some surgical gloves on his—holy fuck—gigantic hands.

“You’re a chatty one,” he quipped, clamp in hand, as he turned to face you again. His grin was ear-to-ear, and you hoped not all of his clients had him smiling this widely. Maybe he was going to be the one to combust. “Alright, lay back for me.”

Fuck. You could get used to hearing that.

You admired the view once you’d settled on the noisy leather, pulling your long hair to the right side of your head. Shawn—or so he said—stood over you, his sharp jaw clenched and his pink tongue poking out the corner of his perfect fucking mouth. His chocolate eyes were soft, juxtaposed to the rest of him. Huge. Pierced. Covered in tattoos. But somehow, a gigantic teddy bear? You’d kill to find out.

The pinch of the metal clamp tugged you from your thoughts. “Alright, you’ve got this,” he reassured, now having rolled up a chair beside your head-to-toe blushing body. You were pretty sure even your ankles were crimson. “Breathe in for me.”

You inhaled as he focused on your ear, a hot pinch flaring on the left side of your head while he pushed the thin needle through your skin.

“M’almost finished, don’t move hun,” he added. Hun. You weren’t complaining. “Stay there,” he spoke, standing from his stool to retrieve an earring backing from his chest of supplies. “Almost done,” he repeated apologetically as you winced, the pain from attaching the metal ball to the back of the bar burning the side of your head.

“Okay, good?” he asked, resting his arms on his knees as he met your gaze. You nodded. “You can sit up now,” he spoke gently, tapping your thigh and immediately looking apologetic. You couldn’t help the blush creeping back.

“Looks good,” he smiled, grabbing another alcohol wipe to clean up any residual ink from earlier. It hurt, but you were too focused on how close he was to your face to care.

You stood from your spot and made your way over to the mirror, Shawn following curiously. He stood behind you, and without thinking, reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear so you could get a better look.

“Shit, sorry,” he said, quickly looking bashful. “You definitely could’ve done that yourself.”

“S’okay,” you giggled, admiring his work. The placement was perfect and it complimented your other earrings, a classic “fuck you, dad!” echoing in the back of your brain. Piercings weren’t for everyone. “It looks really good.”

“Then I guess you’re good to go,” he gave a tight-lipped grin from his little station, carefully peeling the latex gloves from his hands so his rings didn’t come off with them.

“Okay, uh, thank you,” you smiled, lingering in the doorway as he opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but quickly shut it, opting to shoot you a wave instead.

So you left.

But it didn’t feel right. So you popped your head back in.

His eyes snapped up to yours, a little smile finding his lips again. He was the expectant puppy this time.

“Might have to come back soon to get my nipples done,” you stated flatly, turning his cheeks a bright crimson before tapping the door frame and heading on your way, Shelby joining you outside the tattoo parlour.

She started the car, waiting anxiously for you to fucking spill already. But the front door to the shop swung open and you grinned as the tattooed giant came barreling out, frantically looking up and down the street wondering which way you’d gone.

“Over here!” you called, hopping out of the vehicle as his shit-eating grin was visible from the other side of the street. He looked both ways and jogged across the road, his smile failing to falter as you leaned against the car.

“So, uhm, sorry, I didn’t really think this through,” he giggled, your grin just as wide as his. “Would you, uh, wanna, maybe, do you wanna go on a date with me?” he asked, shoving his huge hands inside his tiny pockets.

You didn’t think about it. Didn’t need to, really. You stepped forward, closing the space between the two of you as you met his lips, gently cupping his face as you kissed him. He kissed you back softly and sweetly, resting his forehead against yours to take a breath.

“That’s a yes?”

“My number’s on the waiver,” you smiled, stepping away and climbing back into Shelby’s car, leaving him beaming on the sidewalk.

[novemberseas-novemberskies]

Week 1: Character Challenge 4

The Mare

One of the very few advantages to being trapped in this living nightmare where dull facsimiles have replaced the members of my family, is that they very rarely wonder where I am. A sad side effect of our sad situation, but then I have always been one for independence. One does not get shipped off to boarding school at age nine and thrive without learning the fine art of relying upon oneself. So, pocketbook in hand, shirts swishing about my ankles, hat pinned firmly to my head to keep it from the wind’s grasping hands, I take to the streets of Skarmouth, head held high. I’m acutely aware of the glances I receive as my boots click across the cobblestones, but it’s not long before I can slip into a crowd of tourists and blend my way through town in this excitable camouflage. They carry me down the steep steps cut into the white stone cliffs and onto the sand, where they disperse, flitting about and gesturing wildly. It’s s stark contrast to the glowering islanders with their furrowed brows and tight jaws watching this spectacle from atop horses pitching and kicking and screeching with anger and fear. My heart races as I pick my way toward the makeshift pens where more glowering men track me with crossed arms and suspicion. I hold no illusions that I look anything less than absurd in my skirts and hat, hoisting a saddle over one shoulder with a bridle slung over the other, but I try my hardest to appear calm and collected.

I glide between the round pens and circles of salt (as much as one can glide across damp sand in skirts and heeled boots), taking it all in, waiting for a horse to catch my eye. A horsewoman I might be, but I know scarcely a thing about the capaill uisce. And so I do what I always do when unsure: feign confidence and act upon instinct. It is that instinct that draws me to a tall, leggy filly backed into the corner of an alcove in the cliffs. Her black coat stands out starkly against the white stone, damp mane plastered to her sleek neck as her blue eyes flash with fury in her white face. She’s gorgeous, and dangerous, and I must have her.

“Morning tea with the King’s being served that-away, missy,” the gruff, sea-weathered man informs me as I approach, jerking a thumb over his shoulder, and the two men lounging against the pen beside him exchange glances and chuckle. Swallowing the bitter combination of anger and humiliation, I make a grand show of tossing my hair over my shoulder as I place my tack on the sand and opening my pocketbook.

“I’m afraid the King will simply have to keep the tea warm for me, then,” I inform him breezily. “How much for the filly?” I inquire. He stares back at me, and I hold his gaze, refusing to drop my eyes under his judgment.

“How much’ve you got?” he finally asks, eyeing my embroidered riding costume and silk pocketbook hungrily.

Only a moment’s hesitation passes before I hold out the whole pocketbook. It may be the most foolish choice I’ve ever made, but I hardly have a choice. He snatches it from my hand and greedily thumbs through the money within, a slow grin spreading across his face. Finally, he looks back up at me, appearing much more hospitable.

“This will do nicely, madam.” He says the last word with mock deference, giving his cap a tug, and pockets both my money and pocketbook. I know better than protest, already wishing to be as far away from this man and his cronies as possible.

“Very well. Lovely doing business with you, sir.” I give him an impertinent curtsy, and his mouth makes a thin line as I take the reins a bit more roughly than necessary from the small, rat-faced man beside him.

The filly certainly doesn’t like that, doesn’t like a single thing about her current situation, and rears and plunges at the end of the line. Digging my heels into the sand, I hold steady, waiting for her to finish throwing her tantrum. Finally, I’m able to slowly, slowly draw her to me, and she follows me reluctantly down the beach until we come to a relatively empty stretch of shore. It takes a great deal of intestinal fortitude to even approach her with the bridle, but when I do, I’m relieved to find her begrudgingly compliant. Must’ve been broken for a previous race,” I think to myself, thanking my lucky stars for the good fortune. Held in place by the circle I’ve drawn in the sand, she dances in place and tosses her head as I carefully tighten the girth, but I complete the task with all my fingers intact, and I consider that an immense victory. I’d been resigned to the loss of at least one or two. It’s when I breath deeply and prepare to mount up that I realize that I’ve drawn a crowd, mostly of men, all jostling for a look at a tourist playing islander. It sends my nerves soaring and my heart plummeting, but I cannot show fear now, cannot lose my nerve. If I do, I’ll never ride. And so, keeping my eyes trained carefully away from the sea of faces, I place my foot in the stirrup and attempt to hoist myself into the saddle.

Disastrously, my skirts tangle around my legs and I lose my balance, nearly tumbling to the ground in the process. Calmly, I try again. And again. On my fourth attempt, I feel one of the seams at my shoulder rip, the green satin fluttering against my back. At this moment, red-faced and furious, I lose all sense of propriety. With nimble fingers, I make quick work of the buttons on my ruined jacket and toss it to the side, before angrily tearing my skirts away as well. And so I stand there in my white silk pantaloons and shirt, staring defiantly out at the crowd, which has gone silent.

“Skirts. So very inconvenient,” I say calmly, before deftly swinging up into the saddle, which sends the filly skipping sideways. It takes a strong leg to redirect her, but soon we are off down the beach and away from the crowd, leaving a crumpled pile of green satin and velvet in our wake.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

An Unspoken Rule Part Four

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Notes: !!! Important! Bold type indicates letters William’s letters; italics indicate reader’s letters. I’m never going to drop the full letters in, just excerpts from them as they connect to one another.

Warnings: Mentions of underage drinking, mentions of underage sex (nothing explicit). Excessive pining.

Summary: By my senior year of high school, I had moved in with the Millers.

I was glad to get your letter, but we've gotta talk about your handwriting, kid.  

————

Benny made the wrestling team. He wants to be captain by next year. I think he's gonna make it.

————

I think he's too stubborn to fail.

Extracurriculars will look good on your college applications, too.

————  

I’m not going to college.

————  

Not going? You run that by your mom?

————

It doesn't matter.

————  

You're not going to be in high school forever.

————  

You haven't seen my grades. It's a possibility.

————

I wore Benny's varsity jacket to school yesterday. Now everyone thinks we're dating? He just let me borrow his stupid jacket because I didn't realize my shirt was see-through.

————

That seems like something you should've noticed before you left the house.

————

Mom's moving. I have to move with her. I don't know what to do or who to talk to.

————  

I'm right here.

————    

“Where are your shoes?” I rolled my eyes at my mother’s yell from down the hall.

“Around,” I called back.

By my senior year of high school, I had moved in with the Millers. My mom was now working at a hospital two counties away, and had to sell our apartment. I didn’t want to move schools again, and I couldn’t afford to get my own car or live in town on my own.

I’d gone to Benny crying, and we’d spoken to LeeAnn and John together. I had a job that I went to after school and on weekends, I paid some rent. Benny had moved into Will’s old room, and I had moved into Benny’s.

I thought that this might cause a problem for when William came from to visit, but he typically stayed at Layla’s, so it didn’t really matter.

“Is she ready yet?” Benny called out from downstairs. I rolled my eyes, turning back to the mirror and slotting another bobby pin into my bun to keep it in place.

Benny hadn’t bothered to ask me to prom: we were going together, that was it. This was not going to help the fact that half of the school already thought we were dating.

“Oh! There you are!” I heard from downstairs. I stopped paying attention when I heard my mom come in with my shoes.

“I still wish you’d gotten a long dress,” She sighed, “And we’ll be lucky if they don’t kick you out of prom for that back.”

I glanced back at my mom before turning back to look at myself in the mirror. I’d ordered the dress out of a catalog; it a gorgeous emerald green, with a thin matching belt at the waist. It stopped just above my knees, which, I knew, would already be out of place among the long dresses most of the girls in my class would be wearing. What would likely be even more out of place was the deep-cut of the back of the dress.

I gripped my mom’s shoulders as I pulled my black heels on. I grimaced a little as I settled in them. I’d been wearing them around the house to get used to them, but I already knew I’d be taking them off as soon as the dancing started. My mom looked me over, smiling and pinching my cheek lightly.

“You look beautiful,” She said quietly. I returned her smile, giving her a quick hug and breaking it off when I heard Benny call up after us again.

“Alright, Christ, I’m coming!”

I heard some chuckling from downstairs as I headed into the hall. I felt myself regretting putting the shoes on upstairs as I neared the top of the steps, but I took them slowly and carefully. I could hear LeeAnn ushering John to get the camera, and a very, very familiar voice saying, “I’ll get it.”

I stopped on the steps, positive I had imagined it. He didn’t have a break coming up for months, anyway. I shook my head a little bit, walking down the rest of the way. It was probably John that I’d heard.

LeeAnn and my mom were discussing my dress over one another as they had been since I’d ordered it: how nice the fit was, the stunning color, whether or not I was going to get booted for showing too much skin. Benny looked away from where he was smoothing his hair in the mirror. He smiled when he saw me.

“Doesn’t look as scandalous as you said,” He said. I turned, showing him my back, and he whistled low, barely managing to say, “I take that back,” before LeeAnn smacked him on the shoulder for whistling at me.

“Here you go, Pop,” I heard from farther down the hall. I had been wrong. That was definitely William’s voice. He was still in his fatigues, so he must’ve only just gotten there. I wanted to ask why he was there, why he was staying, why hadn’t he mentioned in his last letter that he was coming back?

I didn’t have time to ask anything— Benny and I were nudged together to take pictures, then ushered out of the house when Ken Willis, a member of the wrestling team, honked from outside. I barely had time to wave goodbye to everyone before Benny was taking my hand and leading me outside to the car.

The shoes were kicked off an hour and a half in. My bun started to get loose somewhere around eleven, and the venue ushered everyone out by ten minutes after midnight. We went back to the Willis’ for a party, and the rest of the bobby pins came out of my hair.

I was ready to go home by three, but Bobby was pretty occupied with Emily Tran. I pulled my shoes on and left alone, walking home. I knew that no one in that house was fit to drive, and the Willis’ only lived a couple of blocks away from the Millers’.

“You have any idea what time it is, young lady?”

I looked up as I turned up the walkway, surprised by the stern voice. The words had come out of a smiling William, though. I huffed a laugh, shaking my head.

“Don’t scare me like that,” I said, sitting on the porch step beside him. I leaned down, unstrapping my shoes and pulling them off with a sigh, setting them aside.

“Wasn’t your hair up when you left?” I glanced back at William smiling.

“It was, but the bun couldn’t handle the party.”

“Where’s Benny?”

“At the Willis’. He was uh... Busy. When I left.” William shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have walked back by yourself. You should’ve called.”

“It’s two blocks away.”

“Still.” I rolled my eyes, not wanting to concede that he was right. I looked over at him for a moment before I reached out, taking the beer that was sitting beside him on the step.

“You twenty-one yet?” He asked though he didn’t make any move to stop me.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” I retorted. I took a sip before passing it back to him.

“What’d you and Benny dance to, then? Does the entire school think you’re engaged now?”

“If they do then they’re gonna be scandalized about Benny and Em,” I said before adding, “We didn’t dance to anything. I mean, not as a couple. Since we’re not a couple.”

I didn’t know why I felt the need to reiterate that to William.

“So when the slow dances came on...” he trained off.

“We ditched the dance floor in favor of a drink,” I shrugged. William shook his head, muttering, “Unacceptable.”

William got off of the porch, heading to Benny’s car in the driveway. He opened the door, leaning in and turning the car on. I frowned when the engine didn't turn over, watching him straighten up and wave me over.

"C'mere." I pushed myself off of the steps and walked closer, cautious. He leaned into the car, turning the radio on and flipping channels until he seemed to find what he was looking for. He nodded to himself, satisfied, before he turned it up a bit. I hurried closer, hiss-whispering,

"Are you trying to wake up the whole house?"

He rolled his eyes at me, leaning into the car and turning it down a little. He left the door open so that we could both still hear it.

"Ya gotta slow dance at least once on prom night. It’s the rules,” he said, before he held his hand out to me. I hesitated, eyeing it like it could be some kind of joke before I settled my hand in his. He pulled me a little closer, free hand settling on my waist. I could just barely make out the opening notes of Shania Twain's ‘You’re Still the One’.

William started to sway us to the beat. I stepped a little closer as he did, our chests pressing together. I couldn't look him in the eye; I was blushing furiously, and praying it was dark enough that he couldn't see me. He did notice, though.

"You okay?" I nodded.

"You wanna stop?" I shook my head.

"I'm gonna need to hear ya to believe you, kid."

I lifted my chin to look him in the eye.

"I'm not a kid anymore. And I don't want to stop dancing." He nodded. We held one another gazes for a little while until I spoke again:

"Why did you come home?"

He gave me a small, tight smile.

"I got a pass to surprise Layla for her birthday, but she went away with her family."

I hummed, lowering my head to his shoulder.

"Should've told me in your last letter. I could've tried to get them to stay here."

"You would've done that?" He asked quietly, sounding almost awed. I nodded a little bit before I closed my eyes.

William's chin rested atop my head, and I could feel him humming along to the song. Even once it finished, he and I continued to sway for a little while. He pulled away from me to shut off the radio and the car, and I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold without him pressed so close.

"I should eat something before I head up," I commented, turning to go back to the house. He followed me inside, and then, to my surprise, into the kitchen.

"What do you want?" he asked, walking over to the fridge. I hummed, coming up behind him and peering over his shoulder.

"Is that meatloaf?"

He pulled the container out, passing it to me. I grabbed two forks before he sat beside me at the kitchen table.  We ate, and we talked. Now and again we'd have to hush one another if we were getting too loud, giggling side by side as we glanced at the ceiling, waiting for the sound of footsteps that never came.

It was so different than it as before, and so much better. We had been writing one another consistently since he'd left, and even though he was so far away, we were closer than we'd ever been when he'd been home. I hadn't been able to see him when John, LeeAnn, and Benny had gone to visit him on the base, but I had sort of been alright with it. I was worried that I'd already said everything interesting that I had to say, that I was better to talk to on paper.

William had helped me so much in the last two years: when my mom told me she was moving, or when I'd fought with her on whether or not I was going to college. I could only whine to Benny so much before I felt like I was bothering him. William's advice was thoughtful, and he always managed to cheer me up. I didn't feel like he was writing me back out of some sense politeness, or duty. He was talking to me because he wanted to.

"I need some coffee," I yawned. I'd rested my head back on his shoulder a while ago. William smiled, sliding his arm from where it was resting over the back of my chair to rest on my shoulders.

"I think you need to go to bed."

"I should wait up for Benny. Make sure he gets in alright," I argued, tipping my head up to look at him. I hadn't expected him to have leaned in. We both stilled, looking at one another. I swallowed thickly. I knew why I wasn't moving, but could not work out for the life of me why William hadn't pulled away yet.

"What're you doing up?" The sound of LeeAnn's voice snapped us both out of whatever fog it was that had settled over us, and I sat up, ears burning.

"Oh, god, you didn't just get in, did you?" LeeAnn added, heading over to the coffee machine. I shook my head.

"Been here for hours."

"We weren't tired," William tacked on. LeeAnn hummed, taking down a few mugs from the shelf. LeeAnn and I chatted about the prom, but I was only half-invested in the conversation. How could I be expected to focus when William's arm was still around me, with his thumb rubbing comforting circles into my skin? John came down a few minutes later, already dressed for work. He ruffled my hair, as he did most mornings before he headed over to get his mug of coffee from LeeAnn.

"Where's Benny?" John asked, turning back to look at us.

"He got back an hour ago," LeeAnn answered, turning and setting mugs of coffee down in front of me and William.

"I heard him tripping up the stairs," She added. My brows shot up, and I glanced at William. He gave me a small shrug. I didn't think either of us had been so engrossed in our conversation that we hadn't even noticed Benny coming in.

"Did you have a good time last night?" John asked me on his way out. I nodded.

"I had a great time last night," I nodded, smile widening when I felt William give my shoulder a small squeeze.

----

Emily Tran came up to me and apologized profusely about her and Benny. I had to dig my nails into my palm to keep from laughing, her apology was just so sincere.

[booksteaandarainyday]

Waking Up The Devil

Summary:

A night out by himself leads Bucky Barnes to some rather...unexpected results. Will the girl he meets wake his inner devil? No descriptions of the female character (I hope?) I tried to make it easy to input input yourself without the use of Y/N or Y/HC etc.  Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own, Author’s note at the bottom!

18 and up please!

Rated M for sexual content and swearing.

Word Count: 4,600

***

11:55. 

The clock on his phone flashed the time up at him as his notifications showed he had at least three unopened messages from his girl. Bucky scoffed into his tumbler of whiskey, his hair falling away from his face as he threw his head back, downing his shot in one gulp. He was vaguely aware of the pair of eyes watching the drop of alcohol still clinging to his lower lip, the heat he felt from that gaze growing hotter as his tongue darted out to suggestively lick it off. A sultry laugh echoed from behind him, followed by the click of a pair of heels approaching slowly. 

Her hand landed softly on his right shoulder as she came to a stop next to him. Fighting his first instinct to shrug off the touch, he turned slowly to take in the gorgeous creature standing next to him with one eyebrow raised and her wine-colored lips upturned in a cocky smirk. He opened his mouth to say something-he wasn’t quite sure what- but the bartender interrupted to deposit a beer, an empty glass, and a nearly full bottle of Jack Daniels in front of her, and she thanked him by name. Bucky took the brief moment her intense eyes were off him to let his own wander lazily down her body. 

She wore a pair of tall, black, heeled leather boots, adding a couple inches to her height, with tight, dark blue jeans tucked into them. Her jacket matched her boots, and her hair spilled around her shoulders in loose waves. When she lifted a hand to tuck a strand behind her ear, he saw that her nails were painted to match her lips. She finally turned away from the bartender (Don, Bucky internally corrected himself) and gave Bucky her full attention once again. He noted the tight, black Guns N’ Roses tank top that hugged her tits just right and played peek-a-boo with her belly button, showing off the jewel nestled there. He made his way back to her face, seeing how her dark eye makeup only added to her heavy gaze, giving her an even more seductive air. 

“I,” he started to say, before she snatched his empty glass from where it still dangled from his fingers. 

“We don’t have to do that,” she told him as she lifted the bottle of Jack, a generous amount of the amber liquid pouring from the spout and into his tumbler. She filled her own and handed his back, leaning close. “I know who you are,” she whispered in his ear. A smirk graced her lips as he accepted the offered drink and took a long draught. She put her back to the bar, leaning on her elbows, her chest pushed forward, and Bucky couldn’t help but notice the way it made her breasts strain against the thin fabric even more. 

She drained her whiskey and traded the empty glass for the full beer leaving a ring of condensation on the dark, lacquered wood of the bar. Entranced, Bucky watched as she took a few long pulls, then lowered her beer back to the edge of the bar as she licked her lips to remove any lingering trace of foam and stepped forward, between his legs where he still perched on his stool. Her hands landed on each of his thighs as she brought her mouth up close to his ear, lips just barely grazing his skin. “You know, if you wanted a little company tonight…” She trailed off, pulling away from him and turning to saunter across the room, weaving expertly through the crowds of people almost like she was dancing, until she got to the screen attached to the wall that had taken the place of an older style jukebox. 

Bucky gulped the last of his drink, all thoughts of  the fight he’d had with his girlfriend erased as he stood to follow, fixating on the sway of her hips and admiring the way the snug denim cupped her ass. Be careful what you wish for, he thought. 

**

An hour later, after they’d danced to some of her favorite classic rock songs and played two rounds of pool (after she’d beaten him at two rounds of pool), she sat delicately on his knee at a table closer to the music selection as they drank more whiskey and traded flirtations. Currently, she faced him, her elbow resting on his left shoulder, her head on her hand with his arm supporting her from behind. Her legs were crossed at the knee, and she nodded along as she listened to him speak. 

He stopped talking, his eyes meeting hers and catching, before traveling down to her lips. Seeing his stare, she very deliberately pulled her plump bottom lip between her teeth, biting down on it. An invitation, Bucky decided as he crossed the distance to bite that lip himself. 

But before their mouths met, she was gone. Pulled off his lap by a drunk college kid who really had no business being in a bar like this. With her arm caught in the guys grip, she stumbled a little on her high-heeled boots before catching her balance and sending a bewildered look Bucky’s direction.

He was already on his feet, holding out his left hand for her to take, which she did, with no hesitation at the metal that met her fingers. Her other arm, though, was still being held by the blond asshole still joking with his friends. “Pretty girl like this don’t need to settle for the Winter Soldier.” 

In the corner of his mind, Bucky felt something stir. Something he’d come to accept as a part of himself since his recovery from the Winter Soldier Program. He took a deep breath. 

“I’m not settling for anyone,” she bit out angrily, “Did you ever think that maybe some of us have no interest in fucking overcompensating little boys?” 

Rage sparked in the blond idiot’s eyes before he gripped her upper arm even more tightly. “Fucking bitch! Do you have any idea who the fuck you’re talking to?” He raised his hand, intention clear as he stepped closer. 

Bucky had been wrestling with himself, trying to keep his temper in check, keeping his hold on her hand gentle but firm as he calculated the distance between himself and the kid, making sure he could get her out of the way before any fists went flying. But as soon as the other guy lifted a hand to her, Bucky’s control snapped, and the cage he usually kept around the rougher, angrier part of himself was suddenly just...gone. 

His flesh hand reached to grab the hand blondie still had on her arm and ripped it away, quickly spinning her behind him and letting her go, almost before his mind could process the move. The open palm the guy was going to use on her turned itself into a closed fist that made contact with Bucky’s mouth, splitting his lip. Bucky grinned at his target, blood in his teeth from the cut, and what he was sure was a feral look in his eyes. If you’re gonna bark, you better have a bite. “That’s your one,” he stated, holding up a single finger in emphasis. Then he was in the blonde guys face, metal hand holding him up against the wall, taking note that the guy’s friends had all scattered, leaving him to Bucky’s-no, The Winter Soldier’s-mercy. 

“You’re about to meet a good friend of mine,” he said. And then his other hand landed a solid punch to the guy’s gut. 

**

After a few minutes, it became clear the target of Bucky’s rage wasn’t going to put up much of a fight. So, Bucky dropped him, leaving him a crying mess on the floor of the bar, only slightly banged up. A little bloody, maybe, but Bucky had made certain he wasn’t gonna kill the dude. He turned to the woman he’d been defending and froze. 

She was staring at him, lips parted to show her even, white teeth, chest heaving in excitement, pupils blown wide with lust as she’d watched his display. She reached for him as soon as he looked for her, and he seized her hand instantly, pulling her out the side door of the bar leading to the alley. In moments, he had her back pressed up against the cold bricks making up the exterior of the bar, her legs wrapped snugly around his waist as his right hand cupped her ass, his left around the back of her neck as he fused their mouths together. She buried her hands in the thickness of his hair, moaning as he kissed down her neck and- a little roughly- bit down on her pulse point. Swiftly, his head swung back up to capture her lips again, this time finally nibbling on her lower lip like he’d wanted all night. 

She pulled away from him, breathing heavily from the lack of oxygen their kiss had caused, resting her head against the alley wall as she regarded him from half-lidded eyes, her hands coming to rest loosely around the back of his head, scratching lightly at the skin she found there. Then she leaned forward until they were nose to nose, just barely letting her lips brush his before snagging his lip in her teeth. “Take me home?” she asked, and though it sounded like a question, Bucky knew it was a demand. 

He took a step back, letting her unravel her legs, and gently setting her on her feet. Then he led her to the shiny black motorcycle parked just ten feet away, where she climbed on expertly behind him, pressing close until he could feel her breasts against his back, her thighs tight against his, and her hands, wrapped around his stomach, traced patterns into his abdomen. 

And they were off, speeding three blocks away to the apartment he knew would be empty. Girl, it’s gonna be one hell of a ride.

**

The next thing Bucky knew, he was inside his apartment being pressed against the door as a hot pair of lips was attacking his throat, peppering kisses anywhere they could reach. Her hands were fisted in his jacket, pulling him as close to her as she could while they were both still fully clothed, bringing them chest to chest. Bucky let his fingers wander down her sides, stroking and tickling as they went, until he bent forwards suddenly, getting a grip on the backs of her thighs and lifting her. Almost on instinct, her legs hitched themselves around his hips, and he supported her with one hand as his other helped peel the jacket from her shoulders.

When he heard the light thump of the soft leather hitting the entryway floor, he began walking forward, not bothering to turn on a light. Why should he when he knew the floorplan by heart? Her teeth tugged on his bottom lip once more, a sharp pain that she quickly followed with a soothing swipe of her tongue, and Bucky didn’t miss how she not-so-subtly shifted her hips against him. He felt his jeans growing more uncomfortable with each rotation of her pelvis, and with a quickness that even surprised him, he navigated the darkness of the apartment to his bedroom. 

He kicked the door shut as soon as they were through, the sudden bang echoing through the room, and he moved until he felt the foot of the bed hit his knees. He reached for her legs, carefully unwinding them from around him, and tossing her to the bed, the squeal of protest she let out bringing a smirk to his face. Bucky maneuvered until he could reach the lamp sitting on the side table, flicking the switch. He wanted to see this. 

She hadn’t sat up, instead choosing to recline comfortably, her hair spread out messily across his gray sheets. She raised her hand to her breast, cupping it firmly before releasing it, letting her fingers trace down her torso to the waistband of her jeans, expertly popping the button with just thumb and forefinger; the whole time she watched with lust-darkened eyes while he followed her movements with just his gaze. Slowly, she moved, rolling to her knees, crawling forward until she sat directly in front of his still-standing form, reaching for the button on his own jeans. The sound of his zipper coming down made him impossibly harder, and he let out a groan when she palmed him through his boxers. “Take off your jacket,” she reminded him in a low voice. 

Bucky wanted to let out another moan. God, even her voice held the promise of sex, rough and demanding. His jeans hit his ankles.

As he slid his coat off himself, his cock jumped at the feel of her mouth, hot and wet, circling his tip, teasing him through his underwear, leaving a wet patch of fabric in her wake. He pulled his t-shirt off with one hand, the other going to stroke her hair as she teased him. 

And tease him she did, her fingernails scratching around the elastic of his boxers before tugging them down, letting his erection spring free before she grasped him around the base, squeezing just tightly enough to knock the breath from his lungs. She lifted him, ducking her head as she licked a stripe up the underside of his dick, letting her tongue flit around the head. She looked up then, meeting his eyes as she let her mouth descend to lap gently at his balls, her hand firm around his shaft, pumping him slowly before she raised her head again and swallowed him to the hilt, her teeth carefully sheathed behind her lips.

Jesus, fuck. She was trying to kill him, there was no other explanation. He was lost in the feel of her lips forming a tight seal around him as her head bobbed and her tongue swirled around the sensitive ridge of his tip, and he unconsciously let his hand tangle further in her hair, getting enough of a grasp to guide her movements. Bucky’s eyes closed, his head thrown back in pleasure, as he relished in the gentle caress of her mouth, and for a few minutes, there was only the wet noise of soft sucking as her saliva built up around his shaft, his own labored breathing, and the occasional groan that worked its way from his chest as she led him nearer to the edge. 

It wasn’t until she gently scraped her teeth along his member that he realized how close he was to losing it, and how he very much did not want to come in her mouth. His eyes popped open, and he tilted his chin forward to watch her, noting the way her eyes lit up in amusement, as though she knew she’d had him right on the verge. Can’t have that, he thought. 

His grip on her hair had relaxed as she’d worked him. He strengthened it now in order to pull her face away from him, his gut clenching with arousal as he saw the line of drool still connecting his cock to her mouth, saw her lips shiny with a heady mixture of his precum and her spittle, and saw that line finally break as she flicked out her tongue to catch it. He let go of her hair, feeling her move away from him on the bed as he caught his breath and tamped down his desire for release. 

While he focused on not coming so quickly- like a goddamned teenager, Barnes! Keep it together!- he heard two distinct thuds in the corner of his bedroom. Looking up made his breath catch in his throat. She was in the middle of stripping, still sideways on his bed, her boots thrown haphazardly to the floor (the thudding noises he’d heard), her shirt lay at the end of his duvet, and her jeans were shimmied to halfway down her thighs, back arched as she lay on his bed, freeing one gorgeous leg at a time, before her pants- and the socks that had peeled off with them- were tossed away, leaving her in only a black bra and matching lace panties. 

What was it Sam had said to him once upon a time? Something about if a woman’s bra and panties matched, “You ain’t the one who decided to have sex that night, man.” 

Why the fuck was he thinking about Sam right now?

She’d noticed his attention was back on her by this point, and she arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, seeming to ask what he was waiting for. But before he could make a move, she shifted up to her elbows, reaching behind herself to unclasp that bra and slowly slid the straps down her arms, letting one side dangle from the tip of her index finger for a second and letting it drop in a whisper of fabric. She returned to her prone position, this time spreading her legs and leaving her knees almost flat against the soft surface.

Her hands moved between her knees, stroking her way up both thighs, skirting around her most sensitive areas, instead playing with the lace that flirted with her hips. Bucky moved, kicking his boots off, his pants coming loose from where they’d gotten stuck around his ankles, and he raised one knee to his mattress, leaning forward until his face was only inches from her still-covered core for a better view. 

And she smelled fucking amazing.

She re-adjusted, squirming, he thought, at the feel of his breath against her skin. Then she sank two fingers underneath the leg of her panties, pulling the fabric aside and leaving it. Bucky groaned. Her pussy fucking glistened with her desire, practically dripping onto his bed. He moved to taste her, stopping when he felt her gently press him back. He looked up, finding her propped on one hand, her other still on his shoulder. 

Watch me, her eyes seemed to say, and she released her hold on him. He watched with rapt attention as she trailed a finger up her slit, gathering some of the moisture that had pooled there, and slid it up to circle around her clit. She moved languidly, in no hurry as she added a second finger and repeated the motion. From her opening to her clit, her digits went back and forth, spreading her arousal until even her inner thighs were slick with it. She dipped her first two fingers inside herself and raised them, wet and gleaming, to her mouth. 

She wasted no time, sucking both fingers clean, and quickly going back to her clit, the circles she made becoming faster and tighter as she clenched her eyes shut and moaned her pleasure. Just when Bucky thought she would come, she looked down at him. “You can touch now.”

Thank fuck. 

He dove forward, replacing her fingers with his own and wrapping one arm around a thigh to bring that perfect pussy closer to his mouth. She let out a groan when his two middle fingers fucked into her, her inner walls feeling like goddamned velvet fluttering around them. When he wrapped his lips around her little bundle of nerves and flicked it with his tongue, she cried out. 

He timed the thrusts of his fingers perfectly with the suction on her clit, and when he felt her muscles clenching harder, he curled his fingers toward the front of her vagina and massaged the ridged area of swollen tissue he found there. Her hand shot to the back of his head, pressing him further into her cunt as she screamed her orgasm before abruptly letting go, falling boneless back to his bed, muscles quivering. He pulled his fingers out, pressing a light kiss to her clit, making her shake harder, and pulled a condom from the bed-side stand, ripping open the little foil packet and sliding it on in record time. He heard a faint rip as her panties tore from her body, little scraps of fabric fluttering down somewhere behind him.

He could still feel the aftershocks of her orgasm as his cock drove into her, each plunge of his hips harder than the last, the wet noise of their bodies meeting spurring him on. Bucky used both hands to lift her lower half into the air as she moaned beneath him, forcing her to meet him thrust for thrust, being sure to grind his pelvic bone into her clit every so often to make sure he got to hear the little wail of bliss she gave every time. He pulled out nearly all the way, relishing in how her breath expelled from her lungs every time his dick buried to the hilt.

Finally, he lowered her legs, covering her body with his as he bent his head to her breasts, tugging a nipple between his teeth and soothing it with a lap of his tongue. Perfect fuckin’ tits, too. Now able to move on her own, she rocked her hips to keep their bodies joined together as he fucked her like that, hard and fast.

When she fell into her second release, crying his name, Bucky followed, spilling into the condom as he roared his pleasure to the ceiling. 

With the condom discarded into the trash bin, he gathered her nearly asleep form into his arms, situating the both of them beneath the soft blanket. She nestled closer into his chest, murmuring something unintelligible as she drifted off. 

Satisfied and tired from the events of his long day, Bucky closed his eyes and followed her into a sleep free of dreams. 

**

The sun woke him the next morning. He didn’t have anywhere to be, so he stretched contentedly, basking in the warm light coming from his window. When his arms met nothing but empty bed, he sat up, looking for any sign of where she’d gone. 

Her clothes were absent from his floor. No boots, no bra- hell, even the scraps of lace from her ruined panties were missing. 

Bucky flipped back his covers, stalking to his dresser for a pair of clean boxers, noting that his dirty clothes from the night before still lingered messily as he tugged the underwear up and opened the bedroom door. Immediately, the scent of coffee assailed his nose, and he followed the aroma through the living room and into his kitchen. 

There she sat, coffee in her favorite mug, with an open bag of cinnamon donuts next to her as she read on her iPad, wearing what he was pretty sure was his Led Zeppelin t-shirt, the hem hitting her nearly at her knees. Without looking up she called cheerfully, “Morning, baby,” and she lifted her mug to take a sip of the still hot coffee. He grinned as he shuffled forward in his bare feet to wrap an arm around her shoulders in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to her sleep-messy hair. 

“Morning, darlin’,” he said, his voice still a little rough from disuse. He moved to slip into the chair across from her at the kitchen table, coffee fixed just the way he liked it already waiting for him. Snagging a donut from the bag, he bit into it, cinnamon powder sticking to his lips as he chewed, observing the home they’d made together. Photos of them adorning the walls, her favorite books on the shelves next to his. A basket sat just outside their private laundry room with her clothes from the previous evening right on top, and if he turned toward the front door, he would see her boots placed neatly on the mat, right next to his running shoes.  The jacket they’d left in the hall hung from it’s proper hook.

She cleared her throat, bringing him from his thoughts, and he focused on her. She’d washed her face at some point between the time he’d fallen asleep and woken up this morning, bare skin devoid of any makeup, save a hint of mascara still smudged underneath her lower lashes. “I’m sorry we argued last night.” Her gaze remained fixed on the dark wood of the kitchen table, fingers absently tracing a small scratch in the stain. “I know it isn’t your fault you get picked for those kinds of missions.” He was silent for a moment, watching as she began to worry at the scratch with her nail, still not looking at him. Reaching out, he caught her hand before she could deepen the indent. 

“I’m sorry, too,” he told her. “I never should have said you were smothering.” Bucky brought his other hand to her chin, tilting her head up so he could look her in the eyes. “The fact that you worry about me like you do means you care. And before I had you, no one else but Steve gave a shit if something happened to me. I’m sorry if I made you feel like your feelings weren’t important.” He could see the tears begin to well up, so he stood and held his arms open as he went to her. She was up and burrowed in his chest instantly, and he rocked her gently from side to side, one hand stroking her hair, one rubbing circles in her back.

“Your whole team loves you, James, you know that?” Her voice was quiet as her tears finally calmed. He didn’t speak, just gave a small nod of his head in answer as they continued to sway.

After a few more calm moments, he chuckled a little. “You know,” he started, “after that fight, I didn’t think you would actually go through with last night.” She pulled back slightly from the embrace, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief as she rolled her eyes. 

“Really? You didn’t think I would take an opportunity to wear those boots again?” Bucky laughed at her question, a smile stretching wide across his face. 

“Not what I meant, doll,” he reminded her. 

She gave a cheeky smirk. “I know,” she replied. “But you know, it wasn’t exactly what I expected to happen when you asked me to re-enact the first time we met.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively, bringing her left hand around to drum her fingers on his chest, and pointedly eyeballing it before giving him a serious look. 

Bucky chuckled again, unwinding his arms from her body, pushing her shoulders gently until she sat back in her chair. He made a trip back to their bedroom and returned to sit on both knees in between her legs. He sat the small, velvet box on the table next to her elbow and clasped her waist. 

“How did you know?” he asked. 

She scoffed, incredulity written across her face. “You ought to know better than to try and sneak something past certain red-haired spies.”

Bucky dropped his head, groaning. “Natasha.”

“Natasha,” she confirmed, stroking his cheek with light touches until he could lift his head again. He was sure his face was tinged pink with his embarrassment at having forgotten his super-spy friend. 

“Well, darlin’,” he clapped his palms to her bare thighs and squeezed gently, causing her to brighten with the smile she reserved only for him. “Secret’s out. So what do you say?” He flicked the ring box with one finger without looking away from her. 

Her expression turned mischievous, eyes crinkling mirthfully and lips upturned with trouble. 

“You know, the night we met, we fucked at that bar.”

Bucky just grinned. 

Damn, he loved this woman. 

Author’s Note:

This is based off a Hinder song of the same title, but I wanted it to follow the flow of the song without actually having all the lyrics right there. I recommend giving it a listen! Did you guys fall for my little mind trick with the girlfriend/cheating thing? Let me know what you think. I live for the comments. xoxo

[sakura-blossom28]

Blind Date

I was going to make this idea a bunch of different one-shots with Sakura but this idea turned into a longer story than I thought! Thank you to @denisa-diana for giving me the pairing idea! It’s a lot longer than I thought 

AN: This is a modern day AU sorry if they seem out of character, this is my first time writing Itachi and I think I still have a lot of work to improve on him! Don’t own Naruto 

The next time that Ino convinces her to try something new, she’ll have to decline.  Sakura was currently pacing back and forth in her tiny apartment.  If she kept this pace up she would have to buy a new carpet because she was wearing the fabric so thin.  Most of the carpet was already worn thin from her weekly pacing sessions in front of her mirror, but this week’s dilemma was her worst yet.  

Do I go or not?  I still have time to cancel, fake being sick might work! Sakura thought to herself, but all she could imagine was Ino screaming her head off at her for making her look bad after “all the time and planning” she had to do for Sakura.  

If Ino was going to be that bad, then her two best guy friends would be ten times worse.  Ino was Sakura’s childhood best friend, but she met Naruto and Sasuke in freshman history class in college.  Ever since then they could not be separated.  With them always being around her dating was pretty much non-existent.  Being single for 8 years was finally starting to get to her.  When Ino first set this up Sakura debated whether to tell them or not.  She decided on that if the date went well then she would, and if it didn’t they would be none the wiser.  Keeping the boys out of her love life was just one of the reasons why she moved out of their shared apartment.  (Even if it was just down the hall.)

Sighing to herself, Sakura took one last look in the mirror.  It was a crisp October day so she wore a cream-colored sweater tucked into a fitted black skirt that came above her knee.  To add to her look Sakura wore polka-dotted tights to change up her usual style and short heeled boots. (In case she needed to run away at any point.)

Checking her watch she had no more time to delay the inventable, Sakra grabbed a light jacket and her purse and locked her apartment to go on her date.

The drive to the restaurant for lunch was simple enough, no traffic or parking issues to stress him out.  Things seemed to be looking up for him, but he couldn’t lie and say he did not feel a bit apprehensive about a blind date that his cousin set up for him.  Sure he had been single for a while, but he needed to focus on work after his major break up.  The company needed him to buckle down, plus it didn’t help that his cousin was made his assistant as per his mother’s request.  He seemed to be the only member of the company who did not want to mix family and business.  

Getting caught up in his own thoughts, the young man did not notice a strong gust of October wind barreling down the street towards him.  One second his vision is clear, the next dust and debris from the leaves around him smacked him in the face.  Being the calm and collected type of person, he simply brushed the leaves out of his face.  It only took him two steps to realize that the leaves had knocked both of his contacts out of his eyes.  This would be a problem.  

The young man started to search for his spare pair of glasses but found that he did not have them on his person.  Barely being able to see his phone that was centimeters away from his face he saw that he had no time to go back to his car to get them.  For an Uchina was never late, even if he was blind.

Sakura hurried across the busy street caught up in her own thoughts again.  Would Ino really set me up on a crappy blind date?  What if it was the guy in her accounting department?  The one with the crazy eyebrows?!

The guy was plenty nice enough but just too intense for Sakura’s taste.  She had stopped by Ino’s job just to say hello one day and got caught up in a conversation with this man, Lee if she remembered right.  Sakura could barely focus on what he was saying because all she could hear was Ino’s muffled snickers while she was standing behind Lee while he talked to Sakura.  From then on Sakura would call Ino from outside the building if she wanted to see her.

Ino wouldn’t be that cruel, would she?  

The young Uchiha was pleased to find that he had arrived first to the restaurant first.  As the host brought him to a table in the back that was more secluded and quiet.  He was thankful for this because he would be solely relying on his hearing for the entire date.  The Uchiha just hoped that the woman his cousin found had a pleasant voice.  He was filled with dread thinking about how obnoxious two of his coworkers could be, his cousin and a blonde woman in advertising, hoping that his date would be nothing like them, but he wouldn’t put it past Shisui to torment him like that.  The young man perked up when he sensed the host and who he assumed to be his date arrive at the table.  He stood with grace as his parents taught him, and put on a pleasant smile that he used in his business meetings.  Even though he could only see blobs he did not expect to see pink.  

He could only gather that this woman had pink hair to about her shoulders.  Squinting slightly to clear his vision a little more, he found that the woman was on the shorter side, only barely reaching his shoulders if they stood side by side.  Where in the world did his cousin find someone like her?  

Extending his hand because his mother would surely be angry with him if he was anything less than a gentleman, he introduced himself simply to the woman in front of him. (Hoping that he was guessing the correct range to properly shake her hand.)

“Itachi.”

“Sakura.”

At that moment the two people standing there had the same exact thought, Why does that name sound so familiar?

Sakura could barely get her name out of her own mouth when it finally clicked that this gorgeous man was her date.  Shaking the deja vu out of her mind she was left with the feeling of her heart in her throat.  Sakura had never met a man before who was so attractive.  His eyes were dark and had long black hair tied in a low pony-tail.  Even though this man Itachi could have been stuck up Sakura never felt that he had an elitist attitude, he was very calm and sat back down much more gracefully than she ever could manage.

Curiosity was starting to win over her nerves.  How would Ino ever let this man slip past her fingers, and especially letting Sakura go on a date with him? Before she could form a proper question, Itachi beat her to it.

“Before we start the typical questions, I would just like to know who do you know that brought us together?” At the sound of his deep and smooth voice, Sakura felt her heart start to clench.  Even his voice is perfect?

“Well my best friend since we were young is named Ino, I’m not sure if you know her or not.  She mentioned that she was working with someone else on this,” Sakura replied with a slight blush to her face, but it seemed to go unnoticed by Itachi.

“Oh, I am quite familiar with Ino,” Itachi said with a slight twitch to his lip, “She is in my advertising department in the company I work for.”  If this woman found out exactly who he was this date might be over before it even started.  

“You work for the Uchiha company?  My two best friends from college work there as well!  If it weren’t for Sasuke’s father the two of them would be in the mailroom, even if they had college degrees,” Sakura snickered to herself at the thought, “You seem pretty high up in the company being Ino’s boss, do you know Sasuke and Naruto?”

For the first time the first time in a long time, Itachi showed the look of shock on his face in front of a complete stranger.  

When Itachi heard his little brother’s name and his brother’s childhood best friend’s names leave this woman’s lips he instantly knew who he was on a date with, and the two boys would not be happy with him.  

Pink hair should have been a dead giveaway to who Sakura was.  How could he not remember a name like that?  How many people in the city had pink hair like hers?  

This was the girl that Sasuke and Naruto could not shut up about all throughout their college years and on, but Itachi was so busy with the company that he never had the chance to meet her. Sasuke never bothered to bring her home in fear that their mother would try to play matchmaker.  He heard many stories about her wild temper and inhuman strength, but also her devotion to her family and friends no matter the cost to her well being.  Sasuke and Naruto could do a lot worse to have Sakura as a friend and she even seemed like a good influence on them.  

“Itachi are you alright?”

The sound of her voice brought him back.  Controlling his emotions and his spinning mind, Itachi attempted to remember the question that Sakura had asked him.  

“Actually Sasuke is my younger brother and Naruto has been around since Sasuke was young,” Itachi finally said with a small smile at the mention of his brother.  His smile only grew as he realized that Sakura finally made the connection.  He wished that he could be able to see her face remembering that Naruto said she was very expressive.  

Sensing that she needed a moment to collect her thoughts as well, Itachi pretended to read the menu in front of him, he just hoped that the restaurant was serving soup so that Sakura wouldn’t catch on to him not being able to see all that well.  After “reading” the menu he could feel Sakura’s eyes on him.  

“Do you want to get out of here?  I’m not really seeing anything that I like here,” she asked with a playful tone in her voice.  Not sure of where she was going with this Itachi nodded and stood up and waited to follow Sakura out of the restaurant.

After making up some excuse the two were standing on the sidewalk.  Itachi was attempting to not feel completely blind, but Sakura was still intently looking at him.  Not sure of what to do or say he just shifted his weight back and forth.  

“Tell me something Itachi.  Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?” Sakura finally asked with that playful tone again.  Feeling a bit embarrassed about the whole situation he could feel the heat starting to creep up the back of his neck.  Before he could give her a lame excuse Sakura looped her arm around his.  

“Don’t worry I’m a doctor, not much can get past me.  You haven’t made eye contact with me at all yet and I know your mother taught you better than that if I learned anything about your family from Sasuke,” Sakura teased, “If you point to the direction of your car we can get your glasses.”  

As they started walking Itachi could not believe how much she knew already about his habits, it was a bit alarming if he really thought about it.

“You and Sasuke are so much alike I can’t believe it.  He does this a lot with his own glasses, but you’re much calmer than Sasuke is.  Probably just a maturity thing, but I doubt he could ever be mature with Naruto around.”

Itachi couldn’t help himself, he smiled.  When was the last time someone outside of his family did that?

Sakura could not believe how relaxed she was around Itachi.  She just kept talking and he just listened.  They continued on their way to his car making small talk about his family with each step the tension was leaving Itachi’s form and that made Sakura happy.  Soon he even started to open up a bit more to her.  His voice was like velvet and she hoped that he would never stop talking.  

Finally reaching his car, Itachi started looking for his glasses leaving Sakura to her thoughts.

She remembered all the times that Sasuke would talk about Itachi.  Either he seemed jealous of the attention that Itachi got from their family, but then he would also admire him and praise him for being a good brother to him.  Even Naruto would chime in on how cool he was.  But they both agreed that for the last 3 years he had devoted himself to working himself to death and never did anything fun.  Something must have happened to make him change his behavior so much, but Sakura would never ask it wasn’t her place.  

When Itachi turned to her with his glasses on she blushed a bit and smiled widely at him.  She always had a thing for guys in glasses.  What she didn’t notice was the way that Itachi was looking at her.

For the first time in a long time, Itachi was feeling a slew of emotions.  Sasuke did not mention how beautiful his friend was.  Pink hair did seem odd on a doctor, but for Sakura, it just made so much sense.  He could finally see that she put some curls in her hair and had a brilliant smile that made his stomach flip over and over again.  But what really took his breath away was when she finally opened her eyes.  Green eyes peered brightly at him.  They were inquisitive, playful, and intelligent.  

No one had made Itachi act so out of the ordinary.  He was just thankful that this was their first time meeting and that no one else was around to call him out for acting differently.  He felt all out of sorts already and he was pretty sure Sakura hadn’t shown her true self to him yet.  

Without much thought, Itachi blurted out, “Would you like to get some dango with me?”

“I’d love to!  It’s my favorite!” Sakura excitedly said and jumped right into his car as he held open the door for her.  So maybe this dating stuff wasn’t as hard as he thought.  

The couple sat in the dango shop talking for hours.  They both learned how much in common they had with each other.  Itachi and Sakura were both extremely intelligent and Sakura never realized how nice it was to have a conversation with a man and not have his eyes glaze over in boredom because he doesn’t understand what she’s talking about.  Even though Itachi was a business major, he had a strong understanding of the medical field and they both enjoyed similar books and swapped different books to read.  

The two sat quietly for a while caught up in their own thoughts.  When was the last time Sakura took a break like this?  Sure she hung out with her friends but it was only to go to an apartment and she always brought along new reading material her mentor gave to her.  This was the first afternoon that Sakura was blowing off and it felt great!  It was most likely due to her company but she could get used to being around Itachi more.  Maybe Ino was right, maybe Sakura should live a little.  This thought made her chuckle.  

“What’s so funny?” Itachi asked with a slight smile on his face.  Sakura noticed that the other Uchiha also did not smile so much, but Itachi’s relaxing presence was much easier to deal with than Sasuke’s typical blank stares.  

“I was just thinking about how I have to tell Ino that she’s right.  She’s never going to let me live this down,” she chuckled again.  “I normally only hang out with her or Naruto and Sasuke so a blind date, and any date really, is totally out of my comfort zone.  But I’m really glad that we got to finally meet!”

Itachi was having similar thoughts thinking that he would have to thank Shisui. Normally all his cousin did was keep Itachi from doing his work, but deep down he knew his cousin was just trying to keep his spirits up all these years after his break up.  Itachi never realized that he was pushing people away until it was too late.  Being busy with work always seemed better than talking about his problems.  

The only regret he really had was not checking up on Sasuke more. His younger brother was so important to him, but he never wanted him to see him hurt over something so trivial as a relationship so he kept his distance and never could figure out how to get back to normal.  Everyone close to him always looked at him with pitying looks after the breakup that he couldn’t stand it anymore, hence him burying himself behind paperwork and moving up in his father’s company.  Itachi could guarantee that his father made his cousin his assistant to keep an eye on him, but he was secretly glad for the company that his cousin gave him.

Turning his attention back to Sakura, Itachi had a hard time believing that she had a hard time dating.  With her unique looks and warm personality, any guy would be after her.  Itachi would just be thankful that he met her now and not while she was with someone else.  

“Jeez is it already dark out?  How long have we been sitting here?” Sakura asked with a laugh.  Itachi looked up and noticed that the sun had started to set in warm colors of orange and pink.  They really must have been sitting there for hours talking and both seemed to not notice the time slipping by.  

“If you would like, I can drive you home,” Itachi said as he rose to his feet.  Sakura happily agreed.  The short drive to her apartment was filled with conversation about movies and music.  Before they even realized it they were both standing in front of Sakura's apartment door, not even noticing that they climbed to the third floor while they were talking.  They were so involved in their conversation they didn’t notice the two pairs of eyes that were watching them from down the hall...

“Itachi I had a really great time with you today,” Sakura started with a small blush creeping up on her face.  This was the end of the date, did that mean they would kiss?  She would be lying if she said she wasn’t imagining what it would be like to kiss Itachi the whole ride back to her apartment.  He was so much taller than her she would have to stand on her toes just to kiss him properly.  

Itachi’s mind was in a similar train of thought.  It was only the first date, would a kiss be too much?  Maybe on the second one…  Wait he has to ask her on a second date first.

“I did too Sakura,” Itachi said showing her a hint of the first real smile he’s given the whole time they were together.  “I would really like to see you again.”

Sakura’s blush grew a deeper shade of pink at the thought of a second date with him.  “Yes, I would love to!  Here let’s exchange numbers.” After that was done they both stood quietly looking at each other not sure of what was going to happen next.  

Itachi decided that the next date he would kiss her, the whole time they were together they were just talking not even flirting really.  Most of the other girls that Itachi had talked to always came on way too strong, but with Sakura it was different.  Since she was already friend’s with Sasuke his last name really didn’t have any effect on her.  She was successful on her own and never tried to get him to pay for anything, even though he wouldn’t let her pay today.  

He took a step closer to her and the pink blush on her face turned to a deep red.  Itachi didn’t think she could become any prettier but the look on her face was too much for him.  He gave Sakura the trademark smirk that he was told drove women crazy and the way that she looked at him he could tell that it worked. Itachi leaned into to see whether Sakura would let him kiss her or not, but she didn’t push him away so he settled to kiss her on the corner of her lips.  When he straightened out Itachi was still smirking when he saw the look of annoyance in her eyes. That must be the real Sakura peaking out and he was surprised to find that he couldn’t wait to get to know the real her.

“I’ll call you tomorrow then,” Itachi said with the slightest look of playfulness in his eyes.  But before Sakura could say anything back there was a loud crash at the end of the hall.  

What they saw spill out of the door was a familiar mess of blond and black hair. Out of the pile came the blond sprinting down the hallway towards the couple. The blond grabbed Sakura and pushed himself in the small space between her and Itachi.  

“Stay away from Sakura!!!!” The deafening scream could be heard all the way down the street.  

“Naruto can you please let go of me,” was all Sakura could squeak out with Naruto practically squishing her face into his chest to “protect her”.  

“Sakura who the hell is this guy?” came the other voice farther down the hall. This was the most familiar voice to Itachi.  He had no idea how his little brother would react to seeing him with one of his best friends.  

Itachi slowly turned around and tried to give Sasuke the smile that he always used to give him while they were growing up.

“Hello brother,” was the only thing Itachi could manage, but the look on Sasuke’s face told him everything he needed to know, his little brother was not happy.  What a way to end his blind date, his date in the arms of another man with his little brother giving him the family glare.  Itachi just hoped that Sakura would still want to see him again...

Part II

[bettercallsabs]

The Groom To Be 1/?

A/N: Thank you all for your patience with me! My life took a turn in the right direction this week, aside from the unwarranted sickness. I moved back home last week, and started my new job on Wednesday, and it’s been a crazy 2 days. So thank you for baring with me. I appreciate more than you know! So here it is!! Part 1! Taglist is open, so never miss a post dearies! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy. *This series will also be posting to Wattpad*

Engaged!SteveRogers x WeddingPlanner!Reader (plus sized reader)

Warnings: none really, some swears.

Word Count: 3k +

You'd overslept. Of course.

On possibly the most important day of your life you overslept. You had stayed up until 3am getting everything in order for your “big” day. You couldn’t believe your ears when Trisha-your boss- told you Larissa Levingston herself had requested you as her wedding planner, you nearly keeled over in shock. Rushing to make yourself presentable, you took a few moments to assess yourself in the mirror. You could go without washing your hair, but your bare face could definitely use some makeup. You took your time styling your hair, so it framed your face just right. Appearance was a big deal when it came to your job. You as a person, not just your “work”, sets a first impression. And this couple, especially Larissa Levingston, was used to extravagant things, she was a billionaire heiress after all.

Makeup? Check!

Hair? check!

Outfit… Still I’m progress.

You had narrowed it down to three outfits;

Stylish and chic power suit. A black fitted skirt with a ruffled blouse and heeled boots. Or, the fitted, deep maroon, knee-length dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, complimenting your voluptuous figure. You slipped into your favorite black blazer, one that never steered you wrong and you even considered it a tad lucky.

Glancing over the finished product, you hooded at yourself in the mirror, whispering to yourself, confidence is key. You are confident. You truly felt good about today, you were ready. And you looked good too. You were about to whoop add on possibly the biggest event of your life.

I’ve got this

You grabbed your keys from the dainty ceramic bowl your niece had made you, that sat near the edge of your breakfast bar, and headed out of your small loft, locking the door behind you. The air was frigid, the brisk breeze licking at your skin, as you stepped out into the New York winter that was in full swing. Checking the Apple Watch that adorned your wrist, you shifted into overdrive. The last thing you wanted was to be late on possibly the most important day of your life. After a short train ride, you arrived at the office, the 16th floor of a high rise located on w 38th st. The office took up a corner of the floor-sharing the floor with an insurance company and a law firm. You were greeted by Paula -who was your very attentive receptionist- as she handed over a handful of mail and notes. “Thank you Paula.” “Just a reminder, Chaz is out sick with strep, so if you need any assistance, give me a ring.” Of course, Chaz, would be sick on thee most crucial day of your career. But you could do this with

out an assistant. You were Y/N,L/N. You had worked your ass off to get this far. Poured your blood, sweat and tears into this. You could do this. No, you were going to do this! You tossed your mail and shoulder bag onto your desk before sinking into your padded swivel chair. You quickly put yourself to work, perusing your email, sorting into folders based on importance and time sensitivity. You were so engrossed in your work, you were startled as your Apple Watch chimed loudly from your wrist. 15 minutes until appointment.

You silenced the reminder, taking a few moments to tidy around your office, fluffing the pillows that rested in each corner of the love seat, that claimed the south side of the office. As a finally touch, you adjusted the newest issues of bridal magazines neatly dispersed across the rose gold coffee table. There was a soft knock at the door, Paula’s head popping through the slight open door.

“Ms.Levingston and Mr. Rogers are here. Should I send them in?” Smoothing out your dress, as you regained your posture from the hunched over position, you took in a deep breath before flashing a light smile in her direction. “Absolutely. Send them right in.” You leaned against the desk, hands folded together on your lap as Paula left the room. Seconds later, Paula was holding open the door as two unbelievably gorgeous humans walked in.

Larissa was a thin and lengthy woman. Her perfectly tanned skinned was accented by her long, thick strawberry blonde locks that were styled in a curly half updo. Her smile was bright and infectious, spreading to her warm honey brown eyes. Her arm was entangled in Steve’s, her hand resting on his toned forearm. You’d heard about Steve Rogers, butthe again… who hadn’t? He had a reputation that exceeded so many- but you’d never realized how breathtakingly handsome he was. His defined jaw was covered with a light scruff. His dreamy blue eyes met yours, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes quickly fell to the floor. You could still feel his gaze on you, making you feel more on edge then you already were. Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself from your desk to greet the -seemingly flawless-couple. “Hi, my name is y/n, I am so thrilled to be working with the two of you to make your wedding dreams come true. Please take a seat.” You directed the couple to plush love seat, grabbing the iPad from your desk. “Can I get you two anything? Water, coffee, tea?” “I’ll have tea if you don’t mind. Iced sweet tea with some lemon, if you have it. Anything for you baby?” Larissa’s southern drawl dripped off her tongue like warm molasses. Steve shook his head no, a faint but kind smile gracing his lips, as his gaze caught yours for a split second, causing your heart race to increase. Shifting in your seat, your body grew warm as you fidgeted with your jacket. “I can definitely make that happen.” You used this as an opportunity to regain your composure, sending out a text to Paula, before sitting down across from the couple, one leg tucked behind the other. You spent the next hour going over their vision for the wedding. Color schemes, theme, flowers, venue. Your mind was blossoming with ideas, you felt flutters of excitement and anticipation consuming you. “So, do you have a set budget you’re looking to stay in?” “Daddy said, money is of no issue. Whatever it takes.” Steve’s eyes widened as his jaw went rigged. He looked slightly terrified, as if he had no idea what he had gotten himself into. What may have been a nightmare for him, was a dream for you. Not having a set budget was what planners dreamed of. The detail you could obtain was nearly unimaginable. It felt as though the world was playing at your fingertips. “I’ll get started on the first steps right away. I’ll be emailing you often, as the work progresses.  I’d like to meet with you both sometime next week, to your venues. When would you be available?” “Oh dear. I’m leaving for Ukraine on Thursday. I have some mission work over there, so my sweet sweet Steve will be handling all of that-“ She wrapped her arms around Steve, giving him a squeeze and a quick peck on the cheek. “He will be my eyes, he knows what I like. And you can always email me for input of course.” “Oh. Okay. Well I will keep you updated via email then. So when you are available Steve? I’m sure your schedule is rather. . . Hectic.” “I’ll have to get back to you on that one. I can shoot you a text? We can text you right?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his innocence. “Absolutely. You both have my number. Feel free to text or call me whenever, day or night. For the next 7 months, I’m at your disposal.” “Perfect. I’ll text you when I know. “ You showed them to the door, closing it softly behind them. Sliding into your desk chair, you let out a deep sigh, exhilaration hitting you like a swift kick to the gut. No y/n. Absolutely not. Get yourself together. You are a professional. You’re career is your life. You can’t become lose your professional for some dreamy blue eyed man. A soon to be married blue eyed man. Get your shit together woman. You did what you knew best, throwing yourself into your work. Within five hours, you had put together 9 color schemes, selected 14 floral arrangements for each of the venues they had picked out. You mocked up a layout for the wedding website. After thorough research, you found a few caterers and photographers that fit Larissa’s-rather extravagant- criteria. The screen of your watch lit up with a notification as it buzzed against the home of your wrist. A text from Steve Rogers. Steve: I am free all of next week after 8am. Given nothing comes up. Let me know the plan. Steve. Picking up your phone from its place on your glass desk, you sent Steve a quick text back. Y/N: Great, I’m going to make a few calls, and I will get back to you. Steve: cool. Thanks. After a few calls and emails sent as urgent, you had set up 4 venue tours. Not a shabby start for one day of work. Y/N: Wednesday. If you could meet here at 10am, we will have a car to drive us to the venues, unless you prefer to drive separate, I can send you the details. Steve: I’ll be there at 10. Please don’t torture me... too much. You burst out in a spit of laughter, as you read his text. Clearly this wasn’t Steve’s idea of a fun time, you were fairly certain that most grooms weren’t thrilled with the whole wedding planning process, especially when they see firsthand how much it costs. You put yourself to work for a few more hours, trying to push thoughts of Steve from your mind. This was going to be a tough 7 months. The sun was set when you left the office, the air even colder than when you had arrived. You snuggled your jacket tight against you as you made your way for the train, ready to succumb to the sleep you so desperately needed. Chaz sat a large cup of coffee on the desk in front of you, the rich scent billowing in clouds of steam from the lid. Cupping your hands around the paper Starbucks cup, you let the warmth seep into your hands, as goosebumps rippled over your body.One of the best feelings on the world.

“Thank you Chaz. God I really need this today.” “I thought you loved touring venues?” “I do! It’s one of my favorite parts of the job, but with eager brides, not reluctant grooms.” You took a sip of the hot coffee, savoring the taste as it drizzled down your throat. “Well, at least he’s massive eye candy. Meow.” You rolled your eyes at Chaz, as she winked, her callous laughter trailing behind her as she left the room. Shaking your head, you collected the essential paperwork, stuffing it into your folder before placing it into your oversized bag. Planer, check. Keys, check. Wallet, check. Phone, check. You ran through your mental checklist once more, before settling that you indeed had everything. As you turned from facing your desk, you fell back against it, your heart skipping in your chest. A surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hand resting over your chest as you keeled over trying to catch your breath. Steve Rogers stood in the doorway, arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe. His laughter was the sweetest thing you had ever heard. It sent a warm flush rushing through your body as bubbles popped in your belly. “For someone so fierce looking you sure do scare easily.” Steve pushed himself from the wall, closing in on the space between you. “I’ll have to remember that. I apologize, I didn’t mean to frighten you. Your assistant said I could come in.” “No, no it’s fine. It’s probably my biggest character flaw, startling easily. You’re lucky I didn’t scream.” Your laugh was awkward but not forced, as you hesitantly met his eyes. The  flutters returned, sending blood rushing to your cheeks. You broke the eye contact, trying to collect your thoughts, before speaking. “Uh, the car is waiting if you’re ready.” Steve nodded, extending his arm out for you to lead the way. Grabbing your jacket from the coat rack you made your way to the elevator, suddenly dreading this day more than before. Steve didn’t let his disinterest disrupt the tours. He acted as though he truly wanted to be there, although, his eyes told a different story. He was kind and attentive, as you went into detail about your vision for the venues. The Edison ballroom was beyond lavish. The large room was empty, the chandelier sparkling off of the glossy floor. You watched as Steve took in the view, his eyes lighting up. “This would be the dance floor here. And we’d be doing round tables with a rectangle table for the wedding party, obviously, which would be located here.” You held out your your iPad -that had your vision sketched out as you- as you pointed around the room. “Larissa would love this. Amazing. You are truly, very talented. I see why Larissa wanted you.” You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as the blood rushes hot. You quickly turned away from Steve, distancing yourself from him with a stretch of your legs. You were frantic, and you didn’t know why. You couldn’t understand your irrational behavior. What the hell was your problem? Steve took a step in your direction, his stride smooth and eloquent, his hand light as a feather as it tapped your shoulder. “Are you alright?” You had to think quick on your feet, luckily for you, it was one of your best talents. “Something got into my eye, it startled me. We’re good now.” You put on your most believable fake smile, as you turned the attention away from your embarrassing outburst. “So, where were we? Oh yes, tables. Over there I was thinking the cake display would be perfect. A little-“ “Speaking of cake, I could really go for some food right now. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.” You glanced down at your watch, the time reading 12:36. You hadn’t really thought about lunch, but who were you kidding? Food sounded amazing right about now. What you wouldn’t do for some French fries. “I, didn’t really plan for lunch, but if you think you’ve seen enough here, I suppose I could cut you loose a bit early, look over the specks and placement a little more, maybe finish up my rough sketches and we can meet back here in an hour?” “You don’t ever stop, do you?” Your eyes grew wide as your brow furrowed in confusion. What was he talking about? “Wha- what do you mean?” “You’re a busy bee. All you do is work. Don’t you ever just take a moment to breathe?” All you could do was blink at him. No. You didn’t have time to stop and smell the roses. You were building a reputation here. And you don’t build the best rep on the east coast, by stopping to... breathe. “My job is my life. I would think that you of all people would understand. You know, being a hero and all.” Steve shrugged nonchalantly, his demeanor calm, cool and collected. And not to mention sexy. “If I let my entire life circle only around being Captain America, I wouldn’t have a life worth living. Sometimes you just have to take a step back to really appreciate what you have. That being said, I’m taking you out to lunch. My treat.” You were flabbergasted, as you stumbled over your own words, barely able to get out a comprehensive sentence. “I- Uh- But my work.” “Nope. It’s happening. Come along.” Steve grabbed your wrist, where you expected his grip to be overly strong and painful, it was light, almost as if he was caressing you. It sent shockwaves coursing through veins, as warmth radiated through you. You wanted to pull away, but a part of you was thrilled by the feeling of his embrace. Against your better judgement, you let him drag you along... The tiny cafe was hidden away in the back of a bakery. The aroma of decadent goodies made your tummy rumble. As you took your seat across from Steve at the petit circular table, you could feel your heart pounding in your throat. You suddenly felt uneasy, the urge to get up and bolt and never look back.

You gripped the menu too tight in your hands, trying to control the nervous shakes that travels through you.

This is just a meal with a client. Chill the heck out!

“Benny, two Cubans please.” Steve shouted across the small area. “Best Cuban sandwich you’ll ever have. I guarantee!”

Shyly, you glanced up from your menu. A crooked grin graced Steve’s handsome face, you thought your heart might melt.

Oh come on. . . For fucks sake!

As you contemplate running away again, a small and stout man rounded the corner, carrying two large plates that smell like heaven.

You said nothing, as you stared at the plate in front of you in awe. The sandwich was huge! It looked and smelled absolutely delicious, you could feel the excess saliva collection in your mouth.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked before I ordered. I just got excited. I’ll get Benny back-“

“No. It’s alright. This actually looks amazing! Thank you.”

You flashed Steve your award winning smile, and it was genuine. If he hadn’t ordered for you, you would have been sitting there for ages trying to decide.

Steve smiled back, a grin that spread to his eyes, forming wrinkles in the corner of his eyes.

“Larissa would kill me if she knew I was eating this, so let’s keep this between us.”  He laughed before diving into his sandwich. You chuckled softly to yourself, before taking a bite yourself.

Steve’s eyes lit up, as he set his sandwich down, his gaze focused on you.

“Did I just hear a laugh? Did you just laugh?”

“Umm…” The blood rushed to your face, your sandwich falling onto the plate with a thud.

“That was a adorable. I didn’t think someone so serious actually laughed.”

Steve returned to his sandwich as if what he said would have no effect on you. Boy was her wrong. You were swooning. Over a client! And engaged client!

Thankfully, there was food in front of you, to help distract you…

After devouring the majority of your sandwich, you were craving a long nap snuggled up in your comfy bed with your favorite fuzzy blanket, and to forget about Steve Rogers for a moment, but that wasn’t going to happen, at least, not anytime soon. . . 

FOREVER TAGS:

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TGTB TAGS:

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@cattfeine 

[rebelliousstories]

Date 1 ~ Marya x Helene x reader ~

Summary: You go on a date with Helene and Marya to see if you are their finale piece to the puzzle. 

This was it. Date night. I was super nervous about tonight. It was sink or sail. I have been friends with the Kuragins for years. Ever since high school when I got paired with the Kuragins and Dolokhov for a project. But here we were. Senior year of collage and I was running my hands through my hair, walking to and fro.

"You have no reason to worry my darling. Helene already loves you so why wouldn't she love you?" Even after his fling with Natalya, Anatole refused to say Marya's name. "Because Tolya. Helene... I already know Helene. I love her and i love Marya but i don't think she could ever love me. I'm nothing like Helene. " I stopped paving and just slump top the floor when Fedya came out of the bathroom. The walls of my apartment were thin so you could hear anything and everything the was said in the little space. "Hey. Chin up dear," Fedya put his hands under my chin sip the I looked him in the eye. "Marya will love you. And if she doesn't, Helene will find a way for her to love you." "But what if-" I was cut off by a knock on the door. Then I heard a voice the made me flush. It was Helene's. It was finally time for my date with her and Marya. Anatole went into my room as to not face the latter. Rushing to open the door I was greeted with a sight that was most pleasant. Helene was covered in a gorgeous green dress that showed off her assets but not to much. Different coloured pearls adorned her neck as well as a ring on her thumb. She was wearing her standard black heeled boots that laced up under the dress. Her hair was out freely instead of pulled on top of her head. Marya was just as breathtaking as Helene. She was dressed in a scarlet skater dress. The black tights that she was wearing making her legs look longer and more lean. Her hair tucked back into its usual big curls that showed off all the different shades of red in her hair. Her feet covered by black heeled boots similar to Helene’s. I barley had enough time to stable myself when Helene threw herself into my arms and hugged me with all her might. Marya let herself in and closed the door. Once I had stabled myself, I set Helene before going over to the fiery redhead I also loved. She opened her arms wide and pulled me into a bone crushing hug. "You look absolutely gorgeous my dear." She whispered into my ear. I smiled and thanked her but both women looked much better then I. Dressed in a simple silk button up shirt, I had the top two buttons unbuttoned. Black skinny jeans stretched over my legs, and some flat boots covered my feet. I felt a sudden warmth and arms envelope me from behind as Marya was still at my front. Helene had sandwiched me in between them. Speaking of sandwiches, I was suddenly aware of the fact that Fedya was still in my kitchen and MAKING HIMSELF A SANDWHICH WITH MY FOOD!! "Alright. Well ready to go ladies?" Helene made us all pull away which made me sad. She receive two nods as an answer and we headed for the front door of my apartment. Fedya yelled over to use protection. "Don't use all my supplies. And wash the dishes that you use please." I retorted. And with that, I left with the two most beautiful girls for a date. 

"Hi. How many in your party?" This was such a simple question otherwise but now it seemed daunting. Marya answer for us and we were lead to a booth. Now another challenge. Who sat with who and who was left alone... "Could we actually get a table please?" Eventually we sat down and got drinks. Now food. Helene was sitting to my diagonal left and Marya opposite to her. Helene and Marya was holding hands, while mine were in my lap. But my right hand was suddenly being held my a slender, pale hand. I looked up at the culprit, who was Marya, and we smiled at each other. Helene grabbed my other hand and didn't let go until the waitress came back to take our order. As we ate, we also talked. Everything from puppies to music to fashion. We shared stories of childhood, teenage years, and early adult years. I shared how I met Helene the first time and Marya followed suit. "So do you really want to be in a relationship with us? I don't want another straight girl ' experimenting. '' The fiery red- head got serious very quickly. I wasn't prepared for the question to come out so sudden and blunt. I had been thinking about being with them through out the evening. Imagining being on more dates with them. Imagining being with them at home, or school, or just out in public. "Yes. Yes! Of course I do. I don't wanna pass up a chance to be with you guys. I really like this evening and I want more of this. With the both of you." Leaning over and taking Marya's hand in mine, I looked her dead in the eye so she knew I was serious. Grabbing Helene's hand as well, I brought both to my lips to kiss. Helene giggled while Marya smiled the biggest I had ever seen her smile. I grabbed the check even though the girls persisted on one of them taking it. But I wasn't having any of that. Marya drove us to my apartment which was close since I still attend collage nearby. Meanwhile, Helene and I were snuggling in the back seat with the heater on. We turned down a familiar stretch of road, and I was getting sadder by the foot. I wasn't ready to leave them. I just wanted them to stay with me and cuddle. "Y/N. We're here." The words I was dreading. After all my anxiety had been shed for the date, it crept back on me again. Was one of them not gonna like me after tonight? Did I do something wrong? Was I to touchy? To chatty? Did one of them decide I wouldn't be a good fit for the relationship? My mind was racing faster then I knew what to do with. But I was pulled back to Earth when Marya touched my cheek. "Darling are you okay? You look worried." She said, starring into me. Realizing we were at my front door I reassured her that I was fine and just caught up in my mind. I unlocked my door and asked if they wanted to come in. "If we could we would dear. I have to meet Pierre for some study time and Helene has and EARLY test tomorrow. Next time, we'll plan for it though." Marya said a little saddened and hugging Helene close to her. I nodded and stood there awkwardly in the doorway looking at them. Soon we all caved and hugged each other in a big group hug. And as we pulled away, I felt my anxiety over the relationship melt away. They got in their car and drove away. Not a second later I got a text from Helene about when our next date would be. I walked inside to see a scene most dreadful. "I TOLD YOU NOT TO EAT ALL MY SUPPLIES FEDYA DOLOKHOV!!"