#imagine the doctor setting a whole dinner date thing and forcing them in the room together

[arkiwii]

i just REALLY want them to talk it out

[jamespotterthefirst]

Auld Lang Syne (Ethan x f!MC)

aka the fake NYE date

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 3.5K (sorry) Warning: some language

Premise: Ethan pretends to be her date (yet again) for her family’s NYE party. Part II of  As Long as You Love Me So

Author’s Note: *gestures grandly* Look at all those chickens fanfic tropes. Thank you to @aestheticartsx​​ for pre-reading this mess! 

4:00 pm

Impossibly, he was there with her, in an over-embellished cabin in Vermont, staring at the bed as though it would sprout claws and teeth any minute now. For lack of anything else to say or do, Ethan cleared his throat rather loudly. 

“There's only one…”

“Yep,” she returned quickly, voice sounding strangled with barely controlled worry.

They had been in that exact situation before, not too long ago in Miami. Except when that happened, they had never kissed before. At that point, Ethan had no idea how her lush, warm lips would feel against his or how every swell and dip of her body would fit so perfectly under his touch. 

Ethan was convinced she was remembering that experience as vividly as he was. They had made it out of there with their dignity and professionalism in shreds. Now, they had somehow managed to stumble into an even worse scenario. 

Lilac finally tore her eyes away from the mattress and threw him a furtive but defeated look. 

“It makes sense, I guess. My cousins are not as old fashioned as our parents. They think we sleep together all the time.”

Ethan almost coughed, but thanks to acting skills he did not know he possessed, he managed to keep his face neutral. Desperately, he steered his mind away from thoughts of Lilac in bed with him and all the magnificent things they'd do. 

“I'll take the couch,” he managed, throwing his bag atop the plump cushions. The loud thud of its landing served as irrefutable finality to his statement. 

Now that he was here, he would get through the evening at her side, careful to keep his meticulously constructed guard up. After the festivities, that couch would be his only respite from the magnetic pull that always made itself known when he was near her. And in the morning, they would drive back to Boston, where he could focus his attention back on Naveen and the slight improvement of his case. 

Just one night. 

He just had to get through tonight and then he could go back to putting as much distance between them as possible.  

5:00

“You're kidding,” Lilac said, eyes trained on the sparkling silver fabric her cousin dangled before her. The bleak sunlight pouring from the window hit the dress and sent iridescent beams of color all about. 

Natalia all but shrieked with excitement, clutching the dress close to her. 

“You can't tell me he won't love it!” 

Lilac said nothing, examining the outfit and trying her best to figure out how so little fabric would amount to a whole dress. It looked to her more like a long, backless shirt than anything else. And typically, the garment would be just her style, particularly when trying upstage her horrible cousin Griselda at her own party. 

Today, however, she couldn't help but second guess everything. Her stomach bottomed out just at the thought of Ethan's eyes on her in that dress. 

As though reading her mind, Natalia grinned at her. 

“He loved that pink dress you were wearing at dinner the other night,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Lilac remained silent, fighting back the persistent need to ask for more detail. Natalia, however, did not need an invitation to offer it in a giddy rush. 

“He couldn't keep his eyes off you, Lilita,” she gushed. “The way he looked at you when you weren't looking…” She trailed off, as though words were not enough to properly describe the heated, stolen glances of that night. “God, you can just tell he lo—” 

At this, her cousin halted abruptly, throwing Lilac a sheepish look. There was no way for her cousin to know if they had said the words to one another yet in this made-up relationship.

A sharp, painful wave of longing settled in Lilac's stomach at the thought. What would it be like to hear Ethan Ramsey utter those words, striking blue eyes looking down at her as though she was the only person in the world? 

“Anyway,” Natalia tried again. “You can tell Dr. Ramsey was feeling that dress the other night. I bet I can guess what you did when you got home.”

Lilac sincerely doubted that unless Natalia knew she had been so mortified that night when she got to her apartment that she downed half a bottle of wine and stuffed her face with Sienna's brownies.  

“Fine,” Lilac agreed at last, taking the garment from her cousin. “I'll wear the dress.”

Natalia squealed her excitement and Lilac couldn't help but smile at her cousin's contagious joy. 

“I can't wait to see the stupid look on Griselda's face. She's been in an awful mood getting everything ready for tonight. When she sees you in this, arm in arm with your hot doctor, she'll have a conniption.”

6:00

The familiar burn from the liquid was a welcomed relief from the many thoughts plaguing him. They alternated between thoughts of Lilac and his concern for Naveen, despite the many texts from the latter assuring him he was fine. Now that he was alone, he was beginning to understand just how much of a mistake this had been. 

Ethan took another drink. Despite how much he disliked Lilac's pretentious cousin, he had to admit she kept the cabin's home bar stocked with exceptional scotch. 

“Glenmorangie,” a voice said from behind him. 

Ethan did not have to turn around to know it was Griselda, standing a few feet away as though summoned. 

“Eighteen year,” she continued, eyeing the glass in his hand. She paused, as though awaiting praise for her excellent taste. 

Ethan determinately offered none. 

Lilac's cousin sighed, moving closer to the bar. The clamor of her heels against the floor echoed around the cavernous space of the otherwise desolate living room. 

“I'm impressed, you know,” she said in a deliberately causal tone. She took the bottle of Glenmorangie and poured two fingers in a glass. “I didn't think you'd actually show.”

Unfazed, Ethan kept his eyes ahead and took another swig. “I can't imagine why.”

Griselda let out a low, humorless laugh. “See, I didn't think a world renowned doctor would be interested in acting for a whole weekend, all for the sake of a lowly intern.”

The words were delivered with unmistakable triumph, each of them striking Ethan like the ominous tolling of iron bells. 

With experienced impassiveness, he turned to face her. Griselda wore a victorious smirk, dark eyes glittering as she took in the expanse of his chest with unveiled interest. Her smile turned coy, concealed briefly by the crystal of her glass as she took a drink. 

When he glanced away wordlessly, she pressed on. 

“You can drop the act, Doctor Ramsey. I'm not an imbecile.” Her voice was a deadly whisper. “My pathetic little cousin would do anything to impress me. Even fake a relationship with her medical hero to fulfill her pitiful little fantasies.”

His fingers clutched his glass with such force that the decorative ridges dug into his skin almost painfully. 

“How she roped you into her juvenile scheme is beyond me.” She had gravitated a lot closer to Ethan. “Lucky for you, however, you are free to act as you please now that I know.”

He could see a blood-red nail moving closer to his hand on the counter. Ethan raised his scotch to his lips, his grip so tight on the glass now that his knuckles shone white. 

“I'd never fake a relationship in front of you,” he muttered at last, carefully choosing his words. 

This had the intended effect because Griselda perked up, intrigued. 

“And why is that?” 

Ethan set his glass on the counter, facing her full on. Summoning his most charming smile, the same one that had a visible effect on many recipients, he leaned in close. 

Griselda's breath hitched expectantly. 

And then, very carefully, so carefully that there would be no room for her to miss the words, he whispered—

“Because you're not that special.”

7:00 

With one last glance at her reflection and a sharp, shuddering exhale, Lilac trekked to the dining room where most of that night's guests were already congregated. Many pairs of eyes landed on her as she entered, the din of conversation ebbing slowly. 

Griselda, who was chatting with her work acquaintances, stopped mid-sentence as her eyes fell on Lilac, the faux pleasant smile falling from her expression at once. There was something different about the furious glare her cousin bore into her like a knife. It was unabashedly disdainful, even hateful. 

Lilac would have enjoyed it any other night but instead, she was far too busy scanning the crowd for—

“Dr. Ramsey, there you are,” exclaimed Natalia, eyes falling over Lilac's shoulder. 

Before she could swivel around, a pair of strong, warm arms enveloped her from behind. His hands rested at her hips and his intoxicating scent cast such a heady spell on Lilac that she was lucky his strong chest offered her support. She had no hope of getting any words out, least of all when he leaned down and whispered in her ear—

“New dress?” 

8:00

Ethan realized far too soon that the distracting silver dress was the least of his worries. Unsettled as he was, however, he would occasionally find his attention hopelessly caught on the tantalizing fabric and the way it adorned her figure perfectly. He wasn't blind after all. 

Lilac laughed at something Sebastian said. She was far more relaxed after a few drinks, laughing with ease in a way that made Ethan's pulse quicken. 

“I bet Doctor Ramsey would love to see those,” Sebastian said with a laugh of his own.

“See what?” 

“Some videos of young Lilita singing Selena songs at karaoke, complete with signature dance moves.” Sebastian accentuated the last two words with easy movements of his hips, gracefully spinning in a full circle. “Remember La Lavadora?”

Natalia laughed. “We used to tie up our shirts and pretend we were wearing her famous bustier.”

Just then, Ethan caught Griselda's eye from across the living room. Her dark eyes fell to the space that separated Ethan and Lilac where they stood, a satisfied smile starting to dawn on her face. 

With a sudden rush of determination, he cupped the small of her bare back and pulled her close, his blood fizzing at her proximity. Lilac jolted slightly, turning a surprised glance at him. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered in her ear. 

Lilac glanced at him through heavy lids, her eyes falling to his lips for the briefest of seconds. It was enough to make his pulse a roar in his ears. 

“Yes.”

As if on its own accord, his thumb traced lazy circles at her back. Blushing, Lilac parted her lips and looked at him so intently, Ethan was convinced she was two seconds away from dragging him into their shared bedroom. 

He would gladly let her.

“Get a room,” Sebastian teased, prompting Ethan to remember her cousins were still there. 

From across the room, Griselda scowled, downing her drink in one gulp. 

“Luckily they have one,” Natalia added with a laugh and a wink for Lilac. 

9:00

Griselda's undisguised hostility grew more tangible by the hour. Their dislike was no secret to anyone in the family, but even Natalia and Sebastian couldn't deny something was different today. So different in fact, that even her unsuspecting guests, who had no background on her family, started to notice. 

“What's up her ass?” Natalia joked over the music. 

Lilac shrugged and took another sip of her champagne, despite Ethan's constant reminders that the drink was pitiful. 

“You're getting drunk off of garbage, Rookie,” he commented from where he stood at her side. 

His hand rested on the curve of her waist, burning through the fabric. Lilac was convinced she was getting drunk off of him, his touch, and the way his eyes pierced through her with each glance. 

Natalia perked up at the nickname. “Rookie?” 

“His nickname for me,” Lilac explained. 

Natalia, looking a bit tipsy herself, cooed, “Aww! That's so cute!”

Luckily, she didn't ask for further explanation. Instead, Natalia moved to chat with a family friend, one Lilac was increasingly convinced she harbored a crush for. 

“Something's different,” she commented to Ethan quietly. “Ever since dinner, you've been… just… different.”

Instead of responding, Ethan's eyes scanned the crowd. 

“What's going on?” 

His eyes softened when they met hers. Gently, he leaned in to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. He didn't move his hand away, the pad of his thumb tracing lazy lines along her cheekbone.

Lilac held her breath, too afraid that any movement might scare him away. Their faces were so close together, his eyes taking in every inch of her face, as though memorizing it. Until at last, they rested on her lips. 

“Ethan—” 

And then the blinding flash of a camera forced them to spring apart.

“Shit. Sorry. That was supposed to be without flash!” Natalia said. “It's a cute picture, though.”

10:00

Pretty green eyes made his blood warmer than any fine scotch ever could. He leaned in to whisper something that made her laugh and that made him drunker still, the sound making him feel weightless. 

Ethan's hand alternated from her waist, back, arms. His skin all but burned anywhere he touched her, white hot and electric. 

At some point throughout the night he had stopped checking if her cousin was watching. He no longer cared if she was buying the act. 

Not that he had been acting for a second anyway. Every touch, every whisper, every smile had been genuine. 

More genuine still was the urge to kiss her.

11:30

“Estúpida!” Natalia shrieked at Griselda, drawing the attention of most of the guests. She had jumped back to avoid the splash of red wine headed her way but she had not been fast enough. Her lovely champagne colored dress was ruined with an ugly splotch. 

“Sorry,” Griselda said, not sounding sorry at all. “If it makes you feel any better, it was an accident.”

Lilac doubted that very much. 

On second thought, spilling wine over Natalia had been an accident because the intended target had been Lilac. 

From beside her, Ethan sighed loudly, pulling her close. “Are you alright?” 

Before Lilac could offer any form of reply, Griselda let out an exaggerated coo at the sight of them. Keith, her boyfriend, lurked behind her, looking embarrassed and like he wanted to intervene but wasn't entirely sure how. 

“Gris, you're drunk,” he said, gently taking her elbow. 

Griselda purposely ignored him, eyes zeroed in on Lilac and Ethan. In the chaos of Natalia cursing up a storm and Sebastian looking around their immediate proximity for something to help her soak up the mess, Lilac could not properly study the unmasked disdain on her cousin's expression. All she saw were fierce dark eyes sinking into here's, glassed over from a full evening of drinking, and an unrelenting snarl. 

“Que hermosa pareja,” Griselda commented quite loudly. No one, not even those who didn't speak the language, could doubt the sarcasm dripping from every syllable. 

Lilac thought her cousin must be very intoxicated to allow her native language out so freely. 

“You two are almost…” Griselda trailed off deliberately. “...too good to be true.”

A horrible sense of dread sunk in her stomach like a stone. 

She knew. 

Her cousin's words, drunk and slurred as they were, insinuated that she knew about their fib. 

Panicked, Lilac glanced up at Ethan and was surprised to see him unfazed, as though the information was nothing new for him. 

“So happy for you, primita,” Griselda went on, swaying slightly on her feet. “If you do end up marrying this one, I must help you plan the wedding.”

A nasty surge of panic speared through Lilac, her pulse drumming chaotically at her ears. She could see Ethan's confused frown from the corner of her eye. 

“I got my hopes up with the last one,” Griselda continued, words accompanied by a dangerous smirk.

“Griselda, shut up,” Sebastian snapped furiously. 

“Until he cheated on you. What a shame that was.”

The room went dead silent. 

Lilac's throat constricted painfully and to her horror, her eyes stung with the threat of tears. Her breathing, which quickened dangerously, came out in chocked little gasps and it took every ounce of her strength to stifle them. 

“And then when you took him back and he cheated again, I just didn't—” 

SLAP

Lilac's palm had connected with her cousin's airbrushed face with a resounding crack. She didn't pause to see Griselda's shock dwindle into hatred, or to hear any of the words Ethan was saying. Furiously smearing away the tears that had finally spilled, she turned on her heel and ran. 

11:50

It was ten minutes before midnight when Ethan finally found her, a lone figure in the middle of the backyard's gazebo. She didn't move as he approached, eyes fixed on the dark outline of the forest beyond. 

It was a particularly clear night for winter in Vermont, the remnants of the last snowfall nothing but grey sludge on the ground. Still, the biting chill of the night whipped against their skin and the only thing protecting her was a flimsy fleece throw blanket. 

Without a word, he removed his suit's jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Lilac merely looked at the fabric and let out a small humorless laugh. 

“Back to where we started,” she muttered. 

It dawned on him that he had done the very same thing the night this whole fantasy started. 

After a short, peaceful pause, Ethan opened his mouth to offer some kind of comfort. Before the words could leave him, however, she stood up from her seat on the bench with a renewed sense of purpose. 

“Let's get the hell out of here.”

Ethan nodded once. “We can go back to the room—” 

But Lilac was shaking her head. “Back to Boston.”

A beat. 

“Rookie, that's crazy.”

“No, what's crazy is this whole stupid scheme. Pretending to date? Who does that?” Her voice flared briefly with her temper, only realizing this belatedly. She looked away from Ethan. 

Ethan remained silent, giving her as much time as she needed. After a minute, she exhaled sharply and met his eye again. “I'm really sorry I dragged you into this.”

Ethan wasn't sorry at all. He dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand.

More silence. 

Lilac leaned against a wooden beam and let out another ironic laugh. “The funny thing is it didn't even work.”

“It worked.” 

At his side, his hands flexed instinctively, yearning to touch her just like he had all night. There was no question in his mind that everyone, including Griselda, was convinced of his feelings for Lilac. 

Lilac, meanwhile, sent him a questioning look and his pulse accelerated at the mere thought of telling her just that. 

“That's why she lashed out,” he said instead.

She nodded once, deep in thought. 

The way her shoulders pinched with tension and the slight quiver of her lips left no doubt that she was recalling Griselda's lashing words. And though Ethan was insurmountably curious, he refrained from asking. 

“Earlier,” he started quietly. “She confronted me about this being an act.”

Her head snapped to look at him. After a few seconds, understanding dawned on her beautiful, moonlit face. 

“That's why you…” she trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. “That's why you put on a hell of a show.”

They could hear the swelling of voices from inside the cabin. Someone inside announced there were only their seconds left until midnight. 

Neither of them looked away from one another. Ethan's eyes descended to her petal pink lips and then back to her eyes. 

“It wasn't for show.”

Her breath hitched. 

“Lilac, you already know that I—” 

In the distance, the party-goers began their countdown. 

“Ten!” 

His hand found the dip of her waist, as though magnetized. 

“Nine!” 

Eyes never leaving hers, he pulled her closer to him.

“Eight!”

“Ethan,” she whispered. A plea and the sweetest sound he had ever heard. 

“Seven!”

Their bodies were pressed so close together, he wondered if she could feel the way his thunderous heart beat for her. 

“Six!” 

Lilac's perfume caressed his senses as her delicate hands clung to his shoulders. 

“Five!” 

“Lilac,” he murmured, sounding agonized to his own ears. 

“Four!” 

Her hand moved to cradle his jaw and Ethan briefly closed his eyes. 

“Three!” 

Delicate fingers danced along the planes of his face with a featherlight touch. 

“Two!”

Ethan basked in her touch, convinced there was nothing better. 

Nothing except—

“One!”

And he kissed her at last. 

Translations:

La Lavadora : “The Washer Machine”/ a dance move

“Estúpida!” : Stupid bitch

“Que hermosa pareja,” : What a beautiful couple

Primita: little cousin

Author’s Note: Ah! So there will definitely be a part 3. However, I still haven’t decided if I will work on that first or on the next Picta chapter. It depends what this volatile inspiration of mine decides!

Thank you so much for reading this!

And thank you so much to everyone who put up with me, my blog, and my writing this year. Your support means everything. Seriously, writing is one of my greatest joys. Before truly immersing myself in this fandom, I thought I’d never write again because of work and other responsibilities. 

Thank you everyone for giving me this gift back.

Happy New Year, my loves! I wish everyone success, happiness, and excellent health. Now, let’s all quietly walk into 2021 and not touch anything. 

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@emotionalswift2,  @lion-ess24, @lovingramsey​

[swan-of-sunrise]

Spellbinding (Chapter Nine-Part One)

Summary: After (Y/N) experiences a health scare tied to her evolving magic, she and Loki decide to take some time off from their Avenger duties to visit Asgard.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nine (Part I) September 28th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

“How’s the book, doll?”

Careful to not move her head too much, (Y/N) glanced up from her novel to look at Steve, who was entirely focused on sketching her from his spot on the floor of the library. The super soldier’s brow was furrowed and his blue eyes were narrowed in concentration as he hunched over his work, his pencil flying over the large sketchbook resting in his lap. During her first week in the tower while she was still getting to know everyone, Steve surprised her by asking if she could pose for him sometime and she agreed, a little flattered that he wanted to sketch her of all people. It’s nice that he finally has the free time to do this, she thought to herself, knowing how busy he’d been the past few months with his role as the leader of the Avengers. “It’s good, but I think I prefer the movie; the humor doesn’t work as well here as it does onscreen, although that may be my childhood crush on Cary Elwes talking.” She turned the page of the book. “Have you seen The Princess Bride yet?”

The super soldier glanced up and nodded before resuming his drawing. “Yeah, Clint made me watch it a while ago, claimed it was the best movie ever made. It’s pretty good, but the best movie ever made’s actually Casablanca; you can’t go wrong with Bogie and Bergman.” He pulled away from his sketchbook to examine his work before swiftly returning to it. “So, how’s everything going with you and Loki?”

“Everything’s going great,” (Y/N)’s smile widened as she thought about her boyfriend and their incredible two months of dating. “He’s actually been talking about bringing me to Asgard to meet his mother…”

Steve’s brow rose and a bright smile played on his lips. “Meeting his mom, huh? Sounds like things really are going great.”

“Unfortunately, it’s a bit more complicated than that. You see, Loki and Thor haven’t explicitly said anything but I’ve got a feeling that Asgard’s not very welcoming of Midgardians, so who knows what Queen Frigga will think of me…” (Y/N) chuckled lightly, but inside her emotions were swirling. After everything Loki had told her about his mother, (Y/N) was a little nervous at the prospect of meeting such an important person in his life, but she’d been sure to hide her discomfort from him; she didn’t want to hurt his feelings by making him think she didn’t want to meet the Queen of Asgard.

“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you, doll. Just based on the way Thor and Loki talk about her, she sounds like a very kind woman and I’m sure that she’ll like you a lot. Hell, if you could get Tony Stark to like you after almost killing him, then I’m sure that the Queen of Asgard’s gonna be a piece of cake.”

(Y/N) suppressed her laughter at his words and felt herself begin to finally relax. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Don’t mention it,” Pulling away from his sketchbook to examine it once again, Steve smiled and looked up at her. “There, all done!” With an inward sigh of relief, (Y/N) set her book aside and stretched out her aching limbs. “You’re a lot tougher than the others, you know, they usually whine and complain whenever I have them pose for too long.”

(Y/N) chuckled, slowly getting to her feet and stretching her unusually sore legs; I must’ve pulled a muscle during my mission yesterday, she thought with an inward shrug. “I guess I’m just more patient than they are; ‘Earth’s Mightiest Heroes’ can take down countless Hydra agents in a single mission without breaking a sweat yet they can’t sit still long enough to be sketched…almost like puppies…”

Laughing, Steve got to his feet and closed his sketchbook. “Well, thanks for posing for me, doll, and I promise I’ll show it to you as soon as I touch it up.”

They walked side-by-side out of the library and down the hall. “I really should be thanking you, Steve; I’ve seen some of your sketches, and it’s an honor to have such a skilled artist choose me as his model.” (Y/N) grinned when he blushed at her compliment. “We should probably head to dinner; I think I heard Tony mention that Clint was making his world-famous lasagna.”

“Damnit, Sam and Bucky’ll try to hog the whole thing like last time…”

(Y/N) stopped walking, a sudden chill in the air causing her to shiver. “You go on ahead, Steve, I’m going to go and grab a sweater from my room. Save me some lasagna from those bottomless pits while I’m gone?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He flashed her a smile and hurried down the hall to the dining room as she turned and headed to her room. Just as she reached her door, however, she suddenly felt lightheaded. Black spots began dancing before her eyes and she leaned heavily against the wall; gasping for a breath, she tried to call out to J.A.R.V.I.S. for help but not a sound came out of her throat. Her knees finally gave way and she fell into unconsciousness before she hit the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Swirls of purple magic clouded (Y/N)’s vision before clearing to reveal two shadowy figures. They appeared to be a woman and a man but they vanished before she could get a good look at them; suddenly, a strangely-familiar voice echoed in her mind…

“She must never learn the truth of her heritage. The truth will not only destroy her, but the world as we know it…as painful as it will be for her, she must never know about her parents.” The voice waivered a little. “Goodbye, my darling (Y/N). Until we meet again in the stars…”

“(Y/N)? Darling, can you open your eyes for me? Please?”

(Y/N) was pulled out of her deep slumber by another voice. A very distressed, yet achingly familiar, voice. With a small groan, (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes and Loki’s worried face came into view. “Loki?”

Loki’s face broke out into a relieved smile but his green eyes were still filled with concern. “Thank the Norns! How do you feel?”

“I feel fine…a little cold, I guess, but other than that…” She trailed off as she looked around the room, realizing that she was once again propped up on a bed in the tower’s sickbay. “How long was I unconscious?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Frowning to herself, (Y/N) recalled her strange dream. If she’d only been unconscious for a quarter of an hour, then it would be scientifically impossible for her to experience a dream; dreams occur during the REM cycle, usually over an hour from falling asleep. However, Loki continued on before she could say anything about it. “Romanoff and I were just returning from our mission debriefing when the Artificial Intelligence informed us all that you’d collapsed. We found you in the hall and took you down here; Doctor Banner and Stark are running some tests to determine what caused your fainting spell, they should be done any minute now…”

(Y/N) wrapped her arms tightly around her torso, trying to generate enough heat to warm herself. “I think I might’ve overexerted myself during my mission yesterday; I’ve never succeeded in making something explode with my magic before and I probably used too much energy doing it…”

The day before, she and Clint were attempting to take a suspected Hydra scientist into custody in a French hospital but were forced into a high-speed chase through the city; the chase ended suddenly when (Y/N) concentrated her magic and blew up the road in front of the scientist’s car, causing it to skid to a stop and allowing them to finally apprehend him. I suppose that arresting that Hydra scientist and seeing my magic advance so much is worth the extra exhaustion, she thought with an inward shrug.

Nodding, Loki took the blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders before taking her hand in his. “I believe that as well, but it’s wise of Doctor Banner and Stark to evaluate your health just in case.” He tightened his hold on her hand as he continued, “Will you promise me that you’ll be more careful with your magic in the future? Remember, you need to stick around and force me to read that infernal Percy Jackson book series.” Although his voice took on a teasing tone as he repeated her own familiar words, she could clearly see the vulnerability swirling in his eyes; she could only imagine how he’d felt, seeing her unconscious and unresponsive on the ground, and her heart clenched in her chest.

“Of course I will, sweetheart…” With a small twinge of pain to her sore muscles, (Y/N) leaned forward, cupping his cheek with her hand and pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Loki immediately kissed back and released her hand in favor of wrapping his arms around her and tugged her closer to him. When she pulled away, his lips followed after hers and she couldn’t help but smile. “So, does that mean you’re finally going to read them?”

Chuckling, Loki pressed his forehead to hers and grinned. “Oh no, my love, I cannot be swayed that easily-” She interrupted him with another kiss, this time with more passion; running her fingers through his soft hair, she gently tugged on the ends and elicited a growl of satisfaction from him. To her pleasant surprise, Loki’s lips began trailing openmouthed kisses along her jaw and down to the skin of her neck, and she couldn’t hold back her breathless moan when she felt his teeth graze the sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“Okay (Y/L/N), we’ve got your-geez, get a damn room, you guys!”

They broke apart and immediately noticed Tony and Bruce standing in the open doorway, Tony’s hand clamped over his eyes in disgust and Bruce smiling at the ground in mild embarrassment; (Y/N) was awkwardly holding her head in one of her hands and Loki was grinning roguishly, obviously enjoying the billionaire’s discomfort. “On Asgard, one knocks when they wish to enter a room; do they not have that custom here on Midgard?”

Tony shrugged and removed the hand from his eyes. “Takes too much effort. Hey J.A.R.V.I.S., can you let me know if people are gettin’ hot and heavy in a room I’m about to enter?”

“Of course, sir, although Prince Loki has a point about knocking…”

“Anyway,” Bruce stepped forward and glanced down at the medical charts in his hands. “We finished running some tests and it looks that you have a severe cold, most likely brought on by your over-exertion yesterday. I recommend bed rest for the next twenty-four hours to prevent any more fainting spells, and I’m prescribing some Tylenol and chicken noodle soup for the cold; no solid foods, which is perfect because Sam and Bucky managed to polish off all of Clint’s lasagna by themselves while you were unconscious.” The doctor smiled and patted her on the shoulder as Tony muttered threats against the two offenders under his breath. “You’ll be okay, just be more careful with your magic from now on, all right?”

She nodded and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Bruce, I’ll be more careful. Do I have to stay in here or can I go back to my room?”

“You can go back to your room; I’ll make sure to tell everyone that you’re okay so they can stop worrying, and I’ll speak with Director Fury about giving you some time off to recover. Take it easy, (Y/N).” With one last smile, Bruce left the room.

Tony shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Well…get better, Glinda, and no playing any ‘hide-the-zucchini’ for twenty-four hours, you two…” He giggled to himself as he followed Bruce out of the room, and (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

“So childish, isn’t-Loki, what’re you doing?!” (Y/N) gasped in surprise when Loki suddenly picked her up in his arms and scrambled to hold onto his neck as he carried her down the hall to the elevator, afraid that she might slip out of his arms and fall.

“Doctor Banner said that you needed to rest, so I’m carrying you to your room.” Loki smiled cheekily down at her as he stepped into the elevator. “I wouldn’t want you to overexert yourself by walking, my lady.”

“Oh, my savior!” She pretended to swoon in his arms and he laughed at her dramatics. The elevator shot upwards, and (Y/N) rested her head against his chest as she asked, “How was your mission?”

“Child’s play. Romanoff and I had absolutely no trouble infiltrating the meeting and collecting intel. How was your day?”

“I read a little while posing for Steve.”

Loki hummed in acknowledgement and stepped out of the elevator when it stopped. “He didn’t show you the sketch when he finished, did he?” She shook her head as they continued down the hall. “He refused to show me the sketch he did of me as well. I suspect that he’s planning a grand reveal of all the ones he’s done of everyone in the tower…thank you, darling.” He said when she opened the door of her suite for him.

“Steve sketched you?” He never mentioned anything about it before, she thought curiously.

“Yes, he did…and I’ll tell you all about it as soon as I return with your soup and medicine.” After gently setting her down on her couch, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and left the room.

Standing up, (Y/N) took a cautious step forward and when she realized she wasn’t going to fall over, she made her way to her bedroom and changed into a pair of lounge pants and a long-sleeved thermal shirt. Her muscles once-again protested while she changed clothes and she dismissed it as lingering soreness from her collapse and her previous day’s mission as she sat on the couch and stretched her legs out across the cushions. Before she could reach for the magazine sitting on her coffee table, Loki returned with two soup bowls in his hands. “That was quick; maybe I should call you ‘God of Cooking’ instead of ‘God of Mischief!’”

“In this case, darling, I’m afraid that you can’t,” After handing her a bowl and a pill bottle, Loki picked up her feet, sat down and placed them in his lap. “Stark forced Wilson and Barnes to cook it as punishment for eating all the lasagna, so you have the two of them to thank for our dinner.”

“So, what’s the story behind you posing for Steve?” (Y/N) asked, blowing on her soup before taking a cautious sip.

Loki smiled and took a sip of his own soup before answering. “Well, during my first months as an Avenger I kept mostly to myself; I stayed in my room reading the books my mother gave me and only left whenever I was assigned a mission. The others, besides Thor of course, kept their distance and never attempted to be anything more than reluctant comrades-in-arms until my second month here. The others were supposed to be out of the tower, so I decided that I wanted to take advantage of their absence and read in the library for a change. When I arrived, however, Steve was already there and busy sketching the city’s skyline. I was surprised, to say the least; I never expected the soldier to have an artistic side, so I asked him about it. He told me about his childhood dream of becoming an artist and asked me about the art on Asgard; we ended up talking for quite a while, and I wound up posing for him.” Loki smile widened, a hint of admiration in his green eyes. “He was the first Midgardian I came to respect and as I gained his trust, the others soon followed until finally, I was allowed an unaccompanied trip to the local library where I met an incredibly clumsy trainee librarian…”

“I think ‘incredibly’ is a bit of an over-exaggeration, sweetheart,” (Y/N) replied grumpily as Loki smirked. “But I’m glad that Steve gave you a chance, otherwise we may have met under very different circumstances.” She shivered slightly at her own words; she was so busy as an Avenger that it was easy to forget Hydra’s attempted abduction of her all those months ago. To distract herself from her darker thoughts, she swallowed two Tylenol pills and smiled brightly. “Anyways, it’s still pretty early; did you want to read together or maybe watch a movie?”

He gave her a disapproving frown. “You heard Doctor Banner, darling, you need your rest…” When she continued to silently stare into his green eyes, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat. “You know, those enchanting eyes of yours should be classified as deadly weapons; you wield their power as skillfully as you wield a sword.”

Grinning triumphantly, she took another sip of her soup. “Thank you, Loki, I’ll take that as a compliment.” She scooted closer to him and kissed his cheek as he smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist. “How about we watch That Thing You Do? I was listening to the soundtrack this morning and the theme song made me think of you.”

“It’s not like that atrocious Grease musical film, is it?”

“I promise you that it’s better, sweetheart.”

“…Fine.”

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The next morning, (Y/N) slowly opened her eyes and smiled as she looked out her bedroom window; the sun was beginning to rise, illuminating the skyscrapers with a soft golden glow. The beautiful sight turned bittersweet as her thoughts shifted to her aunt. When she was little, her aunt would wake her up early on the weekends so they could watch the sunrise together; as they sipped on hot chocolate, the rising sun would brighten their small kitchen and instantly put the two of them in a good mood. Aunt Evelyn would’ve loved Loki, (Y/N) thought, her smile widening as she imagined the petite woman meeting the towering God of Mischief; it would’ve meant the world to her if the two most important people in her life had been able to meet.

“And Loki feels the same.” She muttered to herself, playing with the edge of her blanket as she thought about the situation. With her mind finally made up, she wrapped her arms around her pillow and continued to watch the sun light up the skyline of the city. When the sun began to shine high above the skyscrapers, there was a loud knock on her bedroom door. “Come in.” The door opened to reveal Loki, already dressed for the day and balancing a tray laden with food in one hand. “G’morning, Loki…what’s this?” She asked, sitting up in bed and putting her glasses on.

Loki grinned, setting the tray down on her lap and carefully climbing onto the bed next to her. “Breakfast in bed, of course; I wasn’t sure if you’d be feeling well enough to breakfast with the others, so I brought it to you instead.”

Smiling, (Y/N) kissed him on the cheek. “You’re amazing, sweetheart, thank you.” Egged on by her grumbling stomach, she started on her oatmeal first.

“Are you feeling any better?”

She nodded. “Yep, my muscles are still a little sore but I think my cold is gone.”

“Good, I’m glad…” Loki paused, an uncertain look on his face as his fingers fidgeted in his lap. “Darling, what would you say if I told you I asked Director Fury just now to give the both of us three weeks off?”

“Well,” (Y/N) began, suppressing her amused smile; she had a sneaking suspicion as to what he was getting at. “I’d say thank you, of course, then I’d ask you if he really agreed to that and if he did, I’d suggest that we use that time to visit your mother on Asgard. What would you say to that?” She gave him a knowing glance as she sipped her orange juice.

Loki’s lips curled into an amused grin. “I’d reply that yes, Director Fury’s been impressed with our ability to do our jobs without our, and I quote, ‘sappy romantic shit getting in the way’-” (Y/N) choked a little on her orange juice and shook her head in exasperation. “I’d assure you that he’s given us three weeks off, and then I’d agree with your suggestion, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” She joked before sobering. “I know that you think she’ll love me, Loki, but to be honest, I’ve been feeling a little nervous about meeting your mother.” When Loki opened his mouth to reply, she placed a finger on his lips to silence him; the comical look of surprise on his face nearly caused her to burst out laughing but she remained composed. “However, I also know that as long as you’re with me, I’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“You’re such a hopeless romantic, (Y/N),” Loki breathed before taking her face in his hands and kissing her sweetly. They parted after a moment, but he kept her close by pressing her forehead to hers. “You really are going to love Asgard, though, and I promise you that my mother will adore you just as much as I do; how could she not? You’re the kindest, most intelligent, beautiful woman in the entire universe, after all.”

“Now look at who’s the hopeless romantic.” (Y/N) teased, gently bumping his shoulder with her own as she continued eating her oatmeal. As she was finishing breakfast, Loki regaled her with talk of a rumored pranking war that was going on as a result of the hogged lasagna from the night before; I think he may need this time off more than I do, she thought pensively, watching him as he pondered aloud what clever pranks the others would come up with, a truly cheerful gleam in his eyes as he spoke.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the next morning, however, things were looking significantly less cheerful. As it turned out, Thor learned of their trip and decided that he would also return to Asgard to give his quarterly report on the state of Midgard to Odin. (Y/N) didn’t have any problems with Thor accompanying them; in fact, she welcomed the presence of another friendly face on their trip, but someone else didn’t see the situation quite the same way she did.

“It’s as if I’m forbidden from visiting my home realm without being on a leash,” Loki muttered darkly under his breath as he paced along the tower’s protruding helipad, his displeasure evident in his scowl and the tension of his jaw. “Held tight by my glorified babysitter.”

“Loki, you and I both know that Thor’s not coming as a babysitter; he has a report to give and it just happens to be three months since the last one.” (Y/N) lightly scolded and continued to play with the hilt of her sword from her spot next to the glass doors. She originally decided to wear her uniform to Asgard and leave her sword in her room, but her gut told her that she might need it. Probably to break up whatever fight Loki and Thor are inevitably going to get into, she thought with a sigh as she glanced at the fully armored Asgardian before her. “So, are you going to bring your mother and Samson those flowers and fruits you told me about while we’re there?”

Just as she hoped, Loki’s mood brightened at her words. “Of course; perhaps I’ll bring you along with me when I do, but I’ll have to procure another horse and teach you to ride first.”

“I look forward to it,” She flashed him a smile as the glass doors opened and Thor emerged, also dressed in his full Asgardian armor. “Good morning, Thor!”

Thor grinned down at her. “Good morning, Lady (Y/N)! Good morning, brother!” Loki’s glare did nothing to damper the Asgardian’s good spirits. “Are you ready to depart?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah, but I think the others wanted to say goodbye before we leave-”

“Keep your pants on, (Y/L/N), we’re here,” Tony quipped as he walked onto the helipad, closely followed by Steve, Natasha and Bruce. “But just so you know, I’m only here to see the My Little Pony bridge, not you guys.”

Rolling her eyes as the others chortled, she gave him a hug. “Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone, Tony.”

“Trouble? Me?” Tony grinned when they separated. “Have a good time for me, Morgan le Fay.” He walked over to Thor and Loki and called over his shoulder to her, “Bring me back something cool!”

Steve was next; he wrapped his arms around her waist in his trademark bear-hug. “Keep your chin up, (Y/N), and you’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“Thanks Steve,” (Y/N) mirrored his bright smile and turned to Bruce. “Since you’ll be working on that new project of yours while I’m gone, I asked J.A.R.V.I.S. to remind you to take breaks for meals so promise me you’ll listen to him, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I promise,” Bruce ducked his head shyly before pulling her in for a hug. “It’s gonna be weird not having you around for a month, but you and Loki deserve a break, (Y/N). I hope you guys enjoy yourselves!”

Natasha grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the others. “Have fun, (Y/N), but keep your eyes open and your guard up; you’re dating a prince, after all.” Her lips curled into a mischievous grin. “And I wanna hear every juicy detail about your trip when you get back, okay?”

“Nat!” (Y/N) exclaimed under her breath, a light blush spreading across her cheeks at the spy’s suggestive words; she followed Natasha back to the others and was pleased to see them wishing Loki as well as Thor a good trip. “Well, thank you guys for seeing us off; can you please tell the others ‘goodbye’ for us when they get back from their missions?”

“Sure thing, (Y/N),” Steve nodded and ushered the others away from the circle of etchings the brothers were standing on. “Keep an eye on Thor and Loki, will you? They need all the looking-after they can get!”

Giggling as the two brothers scoffed and rolled their eyes from the end of the helipad, she took her place next to Loki and rested her arm around his waist. “You can count on me, Cap.” She looked up at her boyfriend and smiled. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Loki tore his excitement-filled eyes from hers and looked up at the blue sky above them as he tightly wrapped an arm around her shoulders and as Thor thrust his hammer into the air above.

A moment later, they were encased in a rainbow of lights and (Y/N) caught one last glimpse of the four Avengers waving before the three of them were completely pulled into the swirling beam of colors.

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A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Nine-Part Two

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular​ @itscomplicatedx​ @0-artemis​ @vivloki​

[octania]

Obi Akitaru x Reader

This is a commission I did for the lovely @super-spooder​. I again thank you for your support in this way and permission to do it as a Obi x Reader fic.

Words: 7.1 k

Warnings: Smut, public sex, dirty talk

Short description: Obi and you are hiding your relationship for some time now, and although he is not happy with that, he respected your decision till the moment Captain Burns had the nerve to try not only to steal you as a doctor but as a potential partner.

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Life is sometimes like a puzzle, such a simple structure, but if you don’t put the pieces right, it can get agonizing, hard, sucking the joy from this thing that should bring entertainment and happiness. If you are missing only one piece, it can shatter all of your previous work that was done thoroughly and made you proud and satisfied. One important piece can shadow all the puzzles that fit into their places before it. That is how (Y/N) felt when Obi was not in her reach, when she had everything else lined up and in perfect order, but she was missing the most important thing, the piece she knew would make the whole picture of her life perfect. Him.

She exhaled slowly with her eyes closed, lifting her arms up and pushing her heel back. Relaxed. That is how she felt in this moment. But not because she was doing yoga in the private gym of company 8, surrounded by nothing but the soothing sound of the birds chirping, accompanied with a rustling of leaves  coming through the half opened window, no, it was because her feelings for Obi were finally out, heard, acknowledged and most importantly, reciprocated.Well, in some way heard. They were still keeping it on the low, putting a veil of disguise for the other members. Sometimes, that tiresome acting was overwhelming, biting the pounding life muscle in her chest with the sharp teeth of need for him, but the sight of his eyes clouded with mopes was even heavier. He tried, despite their agreement, to get closer to her and risk giving her attention in front of the others. He did respect her wishes but his eager hands slipped under her arms, along her back, on her hip, on her waist, just for a moment, a simple touch when he was standing near her. Maybe she was too harsh, stepping back and giving him a warning gaze over the shoulder that spelled Too much, Obi. They will notice.

She could swear that his glare carried this answer- Let them. I don’t care.

But she did, at least she convinced herself in that. So when they were finally protected by the four walls of privacy in her or his apartment, she dodged the subject, tiptoed around it like it would burn her like raging fire if she comes too close to it. Guess that were the remaining bits of her past habit, running away from him, now, she was only running away from the fact that she lost that race. He caught her, and will not let her go. Like she wanted to be set free from those huge arms… She despised the morning light when they had to go in their separate ways.  Well, she was again the one that insisted on it. She would never admit it out loud, because then she will have to face Obi’s overly opened nature and shameless desire to celebrate their love. She could never win in that argument, she was doomed to fail, he did not share her anxious concern, he simply aspired to freedom so he could kiss her when he wanted, not when he was able. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the heavy thoughts.

In some moments she felt like she was playing the same game but with different rules this time. First it was to escape the king haunting you on that board of emotional chess, and now when you conquered the king, the whole kingdom awaits your confession, and you will tremble under their harsh judgment when you speak your sins. She hid the fact that that spear of guilt for breaking the ethical rules still pierced her soul, no matter that she received the most precious reward for her confession. She was not scared for herself, she would gladly be dragged in the dirt of shame for her choices if she had to, but only if Obi was left out of it. Her need to protect him was growing like wisteria on the garden wall, her flowers of love blooming over it to hide him from every wrong. Same goes for the other members of their fiery company. She sheltered them from the disappointment, like an umbrella, stopping the icy drops of rain to touch the ones underneath it.

She inhaled, letting the oxygen settle in her lungs, doing her exercise and counting to ten, now desperately wanting to wipe out all of the worries that kept popping in her head. Her hard concentration made her unaware that she was not alone in the gym anymore, there was another soul lingering around, watching her closely, dealing with its own temptation in silence.

Obi could barely resist (Y/N) on the regular days when she was wearing her baggy tunic and her white doctor’s coat, but seeing her stretching her body so gracefully in those tight yoga pants, making her ass look like a perfectly shaped peach that would fit right in his hands like it was made for him, and her thin waist bending down, making a pose that was almost inviting, luring him in. He could feel a stiff bulge forming inside his sweatpants.  Dear Sol I just got here, and I am already on the edge..

No matter how much he tried, he could not stop staring, silently stalking his lover, leaned against the door. He tilted his head, scanning the vacant hallway.  

Like it matters if it is empty or not, she set the rules…nothing happens in the company. 

His eyebrows narrowed and a frowning expression took over his usually soft features when he remembered her ultimatums. Obi adored every word that came out of her mouth, but once she began with her unnecessary dramatic concern, that was the only time he felt a need to just pick her up all over again, hammer her to the wall and cover her with his huge body, forcing her to finally realize that nothing matters except how the two of them feel. 

And he feels very hungry for her right now…

The sight of her on that wall was luckily more than just a fruit of imagination, it was a memory. A heated and lewd one, stored in the intimate corners of his mind, only for his personal usage. Even his opened nature would not dare to speak how the film stripes of that sweet event were already worn out from how many times he thought it over. His tender cheeks bloomed with color red, just reminding him how that was maybe two weeks ago, and from that moment on, nothing similar happened. They just went out in secrecy, having dinner and movie nights, so to speak. He was respectful, patient, not even a bit pushy. After all, he wanted to get to know her on a personal level, not only ravage her body. The thing that happened was a result of accumulation of emotions, a moment where their hearts and souls were bare, pulling towards each other like magnets, begging to be united. The recollection of that night made a wave of desire to wash over him, making his body tense and him to unconsciously clear his throat. Mistake.

The growling noise coming from his chest made him to be discovered by two eyes turning in a hurry. His eyes widened like he was just caught doing something bad, looking nervously around the room to dodge her penetrating gaze.

 “Captain Akitaru? What are you doing here?”- the sound of that formal word coming about of her mouth sting him right in the heart. More and more he was irritated by the fact they can’t talk freely, act like the lovers that they are. He did not even realize he was biting his lip from frustration.

 “Captain?”- there it is again, it sounded even worse without his actual name next to it.

 “There is no one here (Y/N), you can speak normally.” – his deep voice traveled through her ear canal right to her core, giving her goosebumps. No matter that they dated, the tension when they were alone still remained, and seeing him in his grey sweatpants and his black shirt with no sleeves, exposing those rounded deltoids, big biceps and long thick forearms made her heart race. The shirt was so tight on his huge torso, it showed his hard abs, making (Y/N) blink a few times, getting flustered in a second. Her insides craved him, still remembering his shape from the last time. She felt a moist feeling inside her panties, realizing how quickly her body reacted, squeezing her tights harder like she wants to cover her state.

“Still…we have to be careful. I don’t want to talk about it right now and here but I think they are starting to look at us funny, and I really don’t want to risk their disappointment.”- she voiced her concerns again like a broken  record, picking up her towel and a bottle of water, passing by the workout machines in a rush, straight to her office. She felt lucky she had a private bathroom in there, and was blessed even with a shower inside. Perks of working overtime, you get to be exhausted but clean. She giggled on her thought, getting a bit hopeful she will escape this situation with no damage. When she needed to bypass Obi, she arched her back, quickly sliding next to his big frame, using the benefit of being a small thing. But he was too big, so her breasts got caught by his forearm, as she brushed over it with them. It was just for a moment, but she could feel her already erected nipples from her arousal earlier, sending electric signals through her tummy, down her lower parts. She moaned, louder than she expected, continuing her escape with shaky hands. Now the fact written on the label that she once read before buying this sport bra, “So soft and airy it feels like you are not even wearing it.” made this a living hell. She didn’t turn to see if  Obi noticed something, she already disappeared into her office, rushing to the bathroom and slamming the door behind her, turning the shower on so the sound of rustling water clear her thoughts.  His bulge was now aching, painfully pulsating under the material of his sweatpants. He felt them, being reminded once more how those nipples tasted when he sucked them. Now, after two weeks of being without that sweet candy, and how she tried to escape, made him swear he will not let her drown in her own denial again. He thought this through in a hear beat. He could deal with her rules and wishes but he will be damned if he lets her to run away from him again.

The arousal mixed with painful yearning in his chest made him step forward, and before he knew it, his wide palm was wrapping itself on the doorknob of her bathroom, pushing it almost violently open, slipping into the mist of steam rising from the shower cabin. He saw her standing there, jumping from surprise, squeezing her naked breasts with her hands to cover them, still in her yoga pants. But before she could speak, he slammed the door behind them, locking them, and turning around to face her. His veiny forearms tensed as he grabbed her waist, picking her up with ease, crashing his plush lips on hers, swallowing her muffled questions. After losing the floor beneath her feet, she automatically tired to grab onto something from pure instinct. Her waving hand managed to hit the shower head, making it to fall down, splashing the water around, raining down on them from the water pumping in the air. Obi did not even flinch when the warm water hit his skin, he was too busy sucking on (Y/N)’s lower lip, nibbling the rosy flesh like his favorite chocolate bar, then pushing his tongue inside her mouth to met hers, tasting the whole package. Her tongue returned the sugary motions almost voraciously, giving into her primal needs once again. Not so primal, but awoken by him, something about Obi unleashed desire in a form she did not experience before. He could feel her body giving in, melting under his grip and screaming to be dominated by his powerful being. His husky voice filled her ears, as he explained in one sentence why he is breaking her rules. 

“We said, no more running.” – but the explanation was not enough, a punishment was in order. He will not risk her getting away again, his heart could not bear it, so if she tries, he wants her to remember just what might happened. His eyes colored like dark mead flickered, stepping inside the half flooded floor of the cabin, shutting the glass door to prevent any more water spilling out. Now the shower released its waves only on them, soaking them to the core. But Obi did not mind it, not wasting any time, shucking down her yoga pants from her legs in one harsh motion. When the barrier of her closed was removed, his prominent biceps tensed as he lifted her up along the tiles, until she was high enough so her cunt was right in front of his face. He pushed her legs on his shoulders, preventing her from closing them, and dragged her closer to his mouth. He stared at her bare pussy that was glistering from her own juices. Obi subconsciously licked his lips from the tasty sight ahead, sliding her closer until her soft folds were finally pressed on his lips. He opened his mouth, taking a long, experimental lick along her slit, almost grunting from the familiar taste in his mouth. His tongue repeated the act, showing the satisfaction like he is licking his favorite ice cream.

 “Also..we need to teach you how to use my name, without that formal bullshit.”- he slid his calloused hand under and to her heated hole, large fingers parted the folds, pulling the hood of your clit taut to reveal the nerve bud underneath. 

“O-obi!”- Hana stuttered from the exposing feeling of her sensitive parts, sensing the steamy air flowing around it, combined with Obi’s hot breaths. 

“That’s it…say it again.”- with the tip of his tongue he mercilessly flipped the nerve bundle, making (Y/N) to scream his name from the depths of her lungs. But he will not be satisfied after only hearing it once, so he continued to flick her clit while he shoved three fingers inside her, pumping them in until the last knuckle was sucked by her inner walls. She grabbed his wet hair, pulling his head closer.

“Obi!”- she screamed, her voice echoing the glass shower cabin, barely keeping the sound in. But she could not care less, she felt dizzy, tingling feeling spreading across her face as she barely kept her eyes half open. Pleasure consumed her, making her eyelids heavy. So distracted, she did not even notice that Obi lowered her down, placing her on her knees. She opened her eyes from the unsatisfying feeling of emptiness between her legs, gazing upon something big…and hard. Obi slowly pumped his shaft in front of her. Blushing, he stared down at (Y/N)’s glassy eyes, leaning with one hand on the tiles. His broad torso hovering above her, mighty and powerful. He gently wrenched (Y/N)’s head, meeting her plush lips with his purplish head. She could already taste a thick drip of precum sliding down her lower lip to her mouth. It was bitter, but the sight of his shy face and him slowly jerking it in front of her, pushing it gently inside her small mouth made her crave it all. The size, the taste, the cum…

 She parted her lips, in that way showing her permission. Obi’s girth filled (Y/N)’s mouth, stuffing her throat with his size in seconds. She relaxed her muscles, trying to fit it in but she could barely breathe around his heavy meat. Obi slowly pulled out a bit, giving her a chance to inhale, then started rocking his hips gently, lost in the sight of fucking her mouth. (Y/N) grabbed his legs, trying to keep her balance while he was stuffing his dick down her throat, gripping her hair gently. His brown eyes locked on hers, when he whispered something in a low, shy voice.

“Touch yourself from me.” – her already red cheeks fired up, she swallowed, well tried, just putting more pressure around his length, making him growl in euphoria. She never done this before, but the enchanting hunger in his eyes was tempting her, provoking her, igniting the flame of her erotic being and forcing her to indulge in this dirty play. She sensually started to glide with her hand around her curves, teasing her own breasts while swallowing a few more inches of Obi’s throbbing cock. His half closed eyes watching her like tiger watches its prey. Calmly, trying to suppress the clawing need to ravage her, just collecting all that building ecstasy inside, waiting for the right moment to set it loose.  And when her small hand slipped between her legs, her thin fingers sinking into her pussy, the vibration of her moans stimulated his length, forcing him to slam his hips a bit harder, faster. She gazed upon his tightened abs, his every muscle visible from his movements even under his wet t-shit, his pleasure vocalized by his quickened gasping.

He was drunk with enjoyment. (Y/N) was spreading her legs more, almost sitting in the water that was pooling on the floor, giving him a chance to watch her fingering herself clearly. His gaze glued on her delicate fingers tenderly pushing inside and her palm stimulating her erect clit. (Y/N) could sense his dick starting to pulsate and twitch in her throat, she could taste the accumulating precum dripping from his swollen tip. She gripped his dick on the edge of his base, starting to jerk it in the same time as she sucked it.

“Oh fuck.(Y/N)…”- he tilted his head, but lowered it back down quickly enough, refusing to miss any moment of her pleasuring them both. Her grip became harder, her tongue danced around his veiny girth until a warm feeling started overcoming the insides of her mouth. Obi’s sperm dribbled down (Y/N)’s esophagus in hot spurts. His grumps echoed the narrow space and his jaw tightened while he unleashed his load, pulling out slightly. His cock pulsated against her lips, squirting the last sticky stirrings on the surface of her salivary muscle. She gulped for air heavily, but still letting the thick liquid drip down her throat. It took her a few swallows to get it all down, shyly gazing up to the man of her dreams. He reached down, spooning her up under her legs and arms like a princess, lifting her and pressing her on his chest. His warm lips rest on her forehead, staying there for a few moments. Just when he was about to speak up, his attention was broken by an unpleasant sound of a siren whistling. They looked at each other with a panicky look, rushing out of the shower, knowing exactly what the sound means. There is an Infernal on the loose.             

                             *                 *                   *

Sooty columns of charcoal grey blot out the sky. The smell of burned wood and ash filled the air, making it almost impossible to breath. The people were running in panic, trying to escape the sinister figure slowly dragging its heavy feet along the concrete, leaving the grimy trails behind it. Flames were licking its already burned body, leaving a terrifying inhuman grin on its face.

 (Y/N) could not shake the lurid feeling after seeing it, almost refusing to let Obi to face the creature while she was on the other side the neighborhood mending the wounded. She could barely concentrate, never before feeling this distracted from her work, even though it did not show on the outside, she was petrified by the thought of something happening to him.

Still, her gifted hands moved fast, patching up the nasty burns or wounds of the suffering victims, even curing their souls along with their flesh with the words of encouragement. Her stand was radiating self-confidence, fearlessness, and above all, leadership. The medic team from other companies followed her every instruction, she issued orders that only resulted in success, and her astonishing results did not go unnoticed.

From the corner of the tent, a electric blue eye spied on the company’s 8 doctor, silently absorbing her progress and accomplishments. This was not their first encounter, he have witnessed her skilled hands before, doing the magic no one else could. That funny part was that she had no magic, no special power, just her sharp mind, dedication and predominant talent. Burn’s own well respected doctors from company 1 had behaved submissively around her, and that intrigued him the most. Those highly educated and experienced people bowed to no one except him, and now, he is witnessing first hand that they decided to bow down once more, and it was not to a mighty and intimidating captain this time, it was a fragile, thin woman, with soft features and melodic voice.

He wanted this asset for a long time, before he actually laid his eyes upon her, when he only read the reports of her successful treatments, and shamelessly sent her a couple  of offers for a position in his prestige company, but she turned him down every time, politely stating that her position is company 8 was far more valuable. He also received a letter from Captain Akitaru, where it was unmistakably visible even from the dry ink on the paper how upset he was because of Burns’s constant offers, asking him to stop his proposals at once. Even though it was written in a professional manner, Burns grinned when he saw how the pen was pressed on the paper with force, giving away Obi’s anger. How the words did not match captain Akitaru’s usual relaxed and welcoming nature, these sentences were strong, fierce, but still composed nicely. This did nothing more for Leonard Burns but to make him laugh or entertained for a brief moment, certainly will not make him stop.

Even if he lost interest then, based only by the results, waiting for someone to overshadow her, that possibility fell down the drain when he gazed upon her the first time. It was not only the looks that tempted the mountainous captain, he was after all, an experienced man, having more than a fair share of women’s beauty. This was something different. Her  body radiated with more dominance and fearlessness than any other woman he encountered before. Her stand was strong but still graceful. She was not only brave, she was compassionate. She was risky for sure, he saw that with his own eyes, when she risked her own safety and ran to save a cat that belonged to one of the victims.

 Watching in admiration as a non-fiery woman ran into the raging fire within the house, pushing away the fire fighters that gave up on the almost collapsed structure, rushing in just to mend not only the poor boys broken bones but his mind and soul when she brought back his pet. That was not even the end. The way she confronted her own captain, when he almost lost his wits seeing her being so careless. She did not argue, apologize, she stated the facts about the house. How the main parts of the structure were still durable and having , and he remember her exact words, 3 more minutes of strength in them before collapsing because of the material from which they were made and how they were placed inside the house, and he remembers it clearly as day because in exactly 3 minutes the house collapsed.

 He was so impressed by her, in the second he notice she was alone he approached her, now not only tempted by her as a potential valuable asset of his company, but as a potential partner. He was more than displeased when she turned him down, in both ways, focusing on her work and almost pretending that he was ghost. Although this kind of result was not what he has expected and was not happy about it, it kind of made him even more interested, taking this as a challenge. And Leonard Burns is not the type of man who backs down. He waited long enough, patiently forging his plans and moves, and now was the time to strike. His interest grew in desire, and he was not a type of man who deprives himself from something he craves. His steps slowly led him to his target, approaching the busy woman from her back. (Y/N) was just finishing up the last of the stitches on the old lady who kept blessing her soul and admiring (Y/N)’s kindness. Cunningly like a fox, he sneaked in silence, but his stand still exuded with power, coming so close to her that when she turned, she bumped her head right into his stony chest. (Y/N) was astound, caught by surprise so much she froze.

Looking up, she followed the trail of his prominent torso to his revealed collarbones, to his strong thick neck and finally his face. The sky-crystal iris returned her gaze, while the other one was covered with his eye-patch, a dark lather thing that only made his sharp features look more intimidating. Only one corner of his lip was slightly curled into half a smile. He looked like a hunter who just saw his prey stepping into a trap, and trapped the little (Y/N) was, stuck between the wall of his flesh and the operating table behind her. She got flustered, but not in a positive and dreamy way, this was something strange, intense, caused by his impious stare.

  “Captain Burns. Would you mind stepping back? You are invading my personal space.”- her voice clear and loud, even she was surprised by the energy it carried. Maybe she was a kind and shy person but she was no push over. Only one man managed to shake her composure but it was certainly not this one. Burns opened his mouth slightly with a smile, showing that pearl white teeth under his lips. He moved, but not far enough. He was still nearly touching her with his body, and his sudden leaning in did not help.

“I apologize, (Y/N).”- he was so close to her face she could feel his hot breath on her cheeks, the smell of the minty gum he probably had earlier. She ducked, pretending to be reaching for a gauze from her medical kit just next to her left leg, to dodge the unpleasant closeness. She took it out, wiggling out of his flesh barricade and putting the gauze around the old woman’s arm, completely ignoring the captain, wishing he would leave as he did the last time she pulled this act.

“There you go. All finished. You will be ok, just try not to move the arm too much.” – she gently held the woman’s shoulder, helping her to get up.

“You are an angel doctor, may the dear Sol watch over you.”- old woman responded in a low hoarse voice slowly walking away.

“She is right. Blessed with such gift of healing and also…beauty, just like an angel.”- Burn’s deep voice was once more in (Y/N)’s ear, and she could feel it again too close. She turned, seeing him sitting on the table, arms crossed on his chest as he shamelessly wondered with his icy stare around her body. Her blood was slowly started to boil. The feeling that he gave her was unsettling. 

“That is not very appropriate Captain, I would appreciate if you would be a bit more professional.”- she snapped at him, clearly offended by him stepping out of line, but this reaction only made this game more fun for the silver fox Burns. He did not see this as an objection or refusal, he saw it as a dangerous game that radiated with erotic feeling. Her feisty stand made him almost aroused, since it was so long when a woman tried to act untouchable to him. But that is all it was, an act. Must be. In one moment he even decided to let go of the idea of her being his company’s doctor and maybe have her as a lover, but what would be more intense than a relationship inside the work space? That is something he really did not have in a while.

 “I am having problems breathing, and I was hoping an expert like you could take a look. “- without even waiting for her response, he started to unbutton his shirt, exposing her muscular chest. (Y/N) swallowed, hard, fretting feeling blooming in her body. She wanted to move but her obligations prevented her. She can’t refuse to help a man in need, no matter how uneasy he makes her. After all, his flattering words will get him nowhere, but her refusal might just cost her nothing less than her reputation. Her eyebrows narrowed, as she picked up her stethoscope, pushing his shirt to the side and started to listen to his breathing.

“Inhale.”- she ordered, carefully listening to the sound of his lungs filling with air. He obeyed.

 “Keep breathing slowly.”- she said, moving the stethoscope under his ribs, following a wheezing sound. She leaned, lowering her head. His breathing became shallow, somehow…strange. The weird sound was gone, and was replaced with something different…something, perverse. Burns was quietly growling, making a sound that resembled the one you hear from a man when he is 8 inches deep inside of you and pumping you with his heat. The sound followed with a feeling, when she felt the waves of air flowing down her neck, warming her skin and teasing the sensitive sports. His husky voice barely overcoming her racing heart savagely  pounding in her ears.

“Maybe if you become my company’s main doctor, you can check me regularly and I will not have to ambush you like this…(Y/N).”- his white hair falling on her neck, along her cheek, when he leaned closer. She froze, mouth dry, as her heart was now slamming in her ribcage so hard it was painful. He was too close, she could feel where his mouth was, if she turns he will…

“Burns! How low can one company’s captain sink to take a place as a patient for his personal routine check-ups, when actual victims are around him?”- A voice that usually sounded like a beautiful song, now was rough, sharp, cold, and above all, furious. So much so, that even the silver fox got surprised, lifting his head and body and giving (Y/N) the opportunity to get back up. She used it, stepping back and turning, only to see Obi standing just a few meters behind them, clenching his fists so tightly that his fingers turned white. His jaw was pulsating, strong chest rising and falling like he just ran a marathon.

“Or even worse, trying to steal my doctor again while my team and I are out there covering for your absence? We almost lost the east side of the town, a side that was supposed to be operated by you.”- he got closer, fire in his eyes more wild than on that Infernal she saw.  Not even a bullet can shot thorough you as Obi’s stare was piercing through Burns, whose face was now dark, shadows flowing across it, making it somehow devious.

 “I have my company members to handle that.”- he answered with a roar, landing on his feet and facing Obi. Even though he was taller and wider than captain Akitaru, Obi did not even flinch, actually, he looked like a young and powerful wolf ready to beat down the worn out alfa, taking what is rightfully his.

“And so do I, and (Y/N) is one of them, and will remain so.”- one more step was made by Obi, now staring Burns down, breaking the ice in his eyes by his raging mead colored ones. His body radiated with raw force, ready to demolish anything and anyone that stand in his way. And this time, even someone like Leonard Burns noticed it and decided not to cross the boundaries any more at this time. He lowered his eyebrows, closing his eyes and fixing the buttons on his shirt.

 “ We shall see Akitaru, you are not her husband, you are just her captain.” – he said uncouthly, leaving slowly. After a few steps, his clear blue eye appeared over his shoulder, as he winked at (Y/N). She pressed her lips in a straight line, turning away, unable to believe how vulgar can he be. But her tornado of thoughts was interrupted by Obi’s harsh voice.

 “Meet me in the emergency vehicle, I need to speak to you. Now.”- he disappeared behind the tent.      

       *                                    *                                      * 

Obi set in the empty ambulance in the back space where they kept the patients. No matter how hard he tried, he could not calm down or stop hearing the God forsaken words that Burns used.  

Just her captain…

“Tsk..”- He gripped his orange firefighting uniform on his forearms, barely overcoming the need to hit something hard. It was no wonder he said that, no one knew about what kind of relationship (Y/N) and he really had. And if they knew and still did not care and something like this happened, at least he could stand up to Burns like her boyfriend, not only captain. The thought of another man trying to seduce (Y/N) tormented him, smashing on his heart like stones. It did not help when the main reason of his worries stepped inside the van, slamming the door behind her and furiously turning to face him.

“Why did you do that? I was handling it fine Obi! You can’t go head on like that!”- her  irises darker, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes from frustration. She did not want to yell at him, but she needed him to know that she can handle herself just fine. Only problem with that was, that she managed to forget that Obi was not only feeling the need to have her under his wing like a hawk, protecting his members like a real captain, no, he was protecting her like a king protects his queen, and when that queen forgets about the crown on her head and the fact he would die for her sake if needed, the king loses it. Obi jumped on his feet, trying his best to lower his voice but it still came out more than loud. 

“He is trying to get you to transfer from day one!  He ignored my warnings, ignored your refusals, and I will be damned if I see him trying his tricks in person!”- he was barely suppressing the painful avalanche of shattered pieces of his heart, not wanting to bring that subject now, but (Y/N)’s response made it impossible.

 “And? Did I stay? I did! I can take care of other captains trying to get to be their doctor, I know I have obligations to our company and…”

“He was hitting on you (Y/N)! He did not care about your abilities, he was trying to get involved with you! Obligations?? How about your obligation to me as a girlfriend? Honesty, for example? Being honest of who you are dating, not making me act like only your damn superior! Making me tolerate the filthy moves of other men on you, right in front of my eyes, and even then I respected your wishes and now you are trying to get me to stay quiet and watch from a far how he is breathing down your neck?! “- Obi was yelling so hard he can feel the burn blooming in his throat. His fist slammed the metal of the van. (Y/N) stood in silence with her mouth opened, realizing what she had done. She hurt him, not intentionally but still did. Her rules made him suffer, and he still obliged because he loved her, but seeing someone else trying to harm her in any way, even by stepping over the limits of her personal space is something he can’t allow.

 “I can’t  (Y/N), I won’t just stand by. I am not a crazy jealous man, I know you are an honest woman and would never betray me, but I will protect your honor, I’ll be damned otherwise. You deserve the respect, you are a great doctor, and this…this was wrong. And yes, I will bite my tongue for your sake, but I can’t lo…”- Obi’s shaky voice was silenced by (Y/N)’s lips catching his when she jumped on him, grabbing onto him like he was the only thing she ever wanted. Tears strolled down her cheeks while she kissed him with raw passion, touched so deeply by the words that he spoke. She knew he was a good man, but she never imagined how deep that goodness went. He didn’t even lack wings, he really was one of Sol’s angels, and she was sure of it, and he was hers. And that was the only thing he wanted, to be hers.

 He wrapped his long strong arms around her, hugging her so tightly that he almost broke her, but then he released the grip a bit, trying to contain his euphoric longing. Their mouths crashed on one another like raindrops crash on the dry ground, feeding it, nurturing it, just how they did their hearts in that moment. Her closeness once more awoke his erotic desire. Something about her drive him mad in every way, emotionally, sexually and physically, forcing him to hammer her down on the medical bed placed in the corner of the van. He pushed her down, towering over her, kissing her neck and sinking into her cleavage while he violently started unzipping his pants. (Y/N)’s flustered face was half covered with her palm, as she tried to suppress her lewd moans on his hungry kisses and gliding of his hands all over her slim body. He cupped her ass with his palm, turning her over on her tummy, climbing on top of her. His hand slid across her spine, along the back of her neck and into her hair, gripping her gently and pulling her head back so his lips can once again find hers. Her muffled moans were eaten by him sucking on her tongue gently while pulling her black jeans down along with her purple lace panties.

 “I want you (Y/N)..I want to make you mine over and over again.”- he gasped in her mouth as the sound of his voice was combined with the sound of his pants being pulled down. A familiar feeling of his throbbing heat spread across her soaked pussy lips as he parted her ass cheeks, trying to gain access to the main thing. He teased himself a bit by rubbing his erected cock along her slit, trying to collect as much of her juices as possible before he lifted his hips and then slammed into her, kicking the air from (Y/N)’s chest. His adrenaline from earlier still rushing violently in his veins, making him to drill inside her without suppressing his strength or speed, feeling the van with the wet sound of his base smashing onto her cunt, and his groin on her ass cheeks.

 “Fuck….you pussy is so tight…and…it is mine..just mine.”- he smashed harder, lifting himself upwards and swinging back down in a rush, making the bed squeal under them. (Y/N) could not hold in her loud screams, as she grabbed the pillow with the rough green fabric, placing it under her chin and burying her face in, screaming her lungs out while he fucked her like a beast. He started biting her shoulders, licking his way to the back of her neck to leave more reddish marks there, making sure that with every bite another almost unbearable hit of his hips accompanies it, making his sweet (Y/N) voice her pleasure loud enough even with that pillow stuffed half way in her mouth. His slams became faster, as he slid his hand under her shirt, starting to knead her breasts, pinching the soft flesh, searching for her hardened nipples to lightly twist them while he picks up the pace, feeling his sperm pumping down his dick.

 “I want to mark you even from inside (Y/N)….I will cum in you baby.”- this was not a question, this was a statement. As he shifted her nipples along his rough fingers, slamming in her more violently than before, getting all of his frustration out with that last few hits and the thick hot sperm that squirted out of his swollen tip in her womb.  He slowly turned her, picking her up with one hand and changed their places, placing her on his chest while he was lying on the bed.  He gasped heavily, gently removing the strands of her hair from her face. (Y/N) also tried to catch her breath, but she certainly could not catch a break when Obi spoke.

 “I want us to come clean. I want people to know that you are mine. “- he lifted her chin up to make her look at him in the eye. His gaze again loving, caring, soft, the same one she adores. She could not help but to smile, slightly nodding. When he saw her approval he smiled ear to ear, kissing the tip of her nose and getting her closer on his chest.

 “Promise? Because if you don’t do it, I will propose to you in front of everyone and you will not have a choice.”- (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat on that words, making her lift herself up on his chest, mouth shaped in a wide circle, stuttering.

 “W-wha…I-I-..I promise! No! Please! We can tell everyone! Today!”- her face red as a paprika, looking nervously around, playing with the material of his uniform. He took her hands in his, lifting himself and placing his forehead on hers.

 “Hay..I was joking..relax.”- he kissed her cheek, but something inside him made him think that this was actually not a joke. Being surprised by his own brain, his cheeks fired up, smiling shyly to (Y/N)who just swallowed a whole lot accumulated saliva in her mouth. Still not being able to say nothing, but to place a promising kiss on his loving eyes, trying to silence the embarrassing thought in her mind.

 I wish that is was not a joke.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 02

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: you guys have been so extremely sweet with this new work i don’t even know how to thank you!! thank you so so much for supporting my writing, it always makes my day. i hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N was laying in her new room right stuck in between the guest and Gwen’s bedroom. It was a rather bleak room if she was being honest. The walls were all white in exception to one of them that like the entrance was covered in floor to ceiling windows. There was little to no furniture in exception for a king sized bed, a white chest of drawers and a wall embedded wardrobe where she had put most of her clothes already. 

She wondered why a man of such income would like to be surrounded by such bleak colours. From what she had noticed his whole place was decorated in shades of grey and black with the occasional beige and white. Sure, it looked lovely, sleek even, something worth of being in the cover of an architectural magazine, but it wasn’t a home. A home had warmth, lived in sheets, walls and floors, this house however was ... was ghosted, almost as if no one lived in it. 

Rolling onto the comfortable white sheets, she took the contract into her hands, looking at the lettering on the cover itself. Y/N fully understood why he wanted all his employees to have a binding legal document, what she didn’t expect was to see the first line constricted her breathing. “The individual agrees not to follow any legal action against the employer in any circumstance”, it read. This was definitely not what was she expecting. 

     - Y/N? - she shoved the contract under her sheets as Gwen’s voice sounded through the room, her head peaking through the opening of the door. - What are you up to?

    - Not much. How are you? Do you enjoy the new room? - Sebastian had put her in a different room from his, something she had expected but still found odd. They were to be married after all and despite it all being a business move and transaction, it was still a valid marriage. However, none of them seemed to eager to at least try and create some chemistry. 

    - Boring. I need a favour, though. Please and when you decide remember you’re my oldest and best friend since we were babies. - Y/N knew that face and she did not like it. It was the same face that got them both stranded in the Carribean because she just needed to get to know some guy from the opposite terminal before catching the plane. However, she also knew Gwen to be a great driving force of making her do things she didn’t exactly want to do, so she decided to nod her head yes, already overwhelmed with the move and the contract. - I need to head out for a few minutes, could you cover for me?

     - What ... where are you going? 

     - I have a date. - she cheekily entered the room, closing the door behind her after checking if someone was in the hall. The redhead sat in front of her, a childish grin on her face as if she were in high school going out with the captain of the football team. - And he’s really sweet.

     - Gwen, you’re engaged. - the big sapphire in her left hand’s third finger was all she could look at. Of course Y/N wanted to be happy for Gwen, she really did and she really shouldn’t put too much effort in the thought that she was going to get married, after all it was just a strategy, but her mind was screaming at her that it wasn’t right. - Don’t you wanna at least give it a go before you completely give up?

     - No, I wanna go out with Chuck. - she took her engagement ring off, placing it on Y/N’s white sheets. - Please cover for me, please.

     - What if Sebastian notices you’re gone?

    -  He won’t because you’ll cover for me, besides, he probably won’t even leave his office. Please, Y/N? - Y/N sighed. What was the use of saying no if she was gonna leave any other way? Besides, if she were right and Sebastian didn’t leave his office, it should be alright. Losing whatever piece of resolve she has in her, she let out a soft smile, nodding her head yes which led the redhead to hug her with a death like grip. - It’ll one be for a few hours. I owe you one.

     -  I’m pretty sure you’ve own me one since we were one. - Gwen let out a celebratory chuckle before grabbing her bag and leaving Y/N on her own once again. 

The whole house was constantly silent, almost as if all the employees were scared of making a sound which when it came to the demanding presence of their boss, she wondered if that was the case. The only disruption of silence that could be heard was the soft rain against the windows which was enough to lull her to sleep. She would’ve possibly remained asleep if it hadn’t been for a slight knock interrupting her slumber. She took her head off her pillow, confused as if she had slept for so long, Gwen had returned. Another knock made her get from the bed, sleep still in her eyes as she opened the door to come face to face with one of the dressed up employees. 

    - Miss Y/N, dinner is served.

    - Just Y/N please. 

    - I believe it would be more of Miss Forrest’s comfort if you were to inform her dinner is ready. 

    - Oh ... Miss Forrest ... she’s, she’s not feeling very well. 

    - Should we call a doctor?

    - No, it’s just ... you know, that time of the month. - Y/N had the most nervous smile on her face, but as the man heard that specific term, he scrunched his face for a few seconds before returning to his normal formal and stoic posture. Maybe she had gotten away with it. - I don’t think she’ll want any dinner.

    - Oh, alright, would you still like to have dinner, Miss Y/N? - he questioned. She was rather hungry, after all, all she had before coming in was dinner and after sleeping she always awake up feeling like snacking, therefore dinner sounded like a good idea. 

She followed the man into the kitchen that similarly to the rest of the house had the same simple yet modern design to it. The floors were in the same shade of marbled black with few specks of grey, the walls were white with a black wooden backsplash and one of them had the same full amount of windows which gave a beautiful view of the Upper East Side. There were various balconies connected to the walls but the biggest one was in the middle where some chairs were laid. 

Y/N watched as a woman, probably middle aged, set the table. Just like the man who had brought her to the kitchen, she was dressed in sleek, working clothes with her hair held in a perfect bun up-do. 

     - I hope you like goat cheese and bistro salad, m’am. - she set a beautifully prepared plate in front of Y/N as she took a seat in the table. - I can prepare you something if you don’t like it, m’am.

     - No, it’s beautiful, thank you so much. - yes, she was used to living in some sort of high fashion style due to the environment she had brought up with but this, this was different. This was expensive in all sorts, from how the employees dressed, to the way the food was presented. However, Y/N noticed that instead of being surrounded by other people eating like it would normally occur at her prior home, she was instead surrounded by staff watching her eat, no Sebastian in sight. - Is Mr. Stan not joining us for dinner?

     - Oh no, m’am, Mr. Stan eats in his office. - the woman replied. 

     - What about you guys? Don’t you wanna eat? 

     - It’s fine, m’am. We’ll eat after you finish. 

     - Alright ... - Y/N pushed her plate slightly away from her, turning on her chair so she could face the two staff who were now staring at her as if she were any sort of threat. - Where me and Miss Forrest were raised, staff is treated just as well as family members. I don’t know what orders you follow from Mr. Stan but when you deal with me or Miss Forrest, you sit down and have dinner with us if you wish. 

The dinner went a bit better after she gained some company. The staff was sweet, very professional still but sweet nevertheless. After dinner and fighting a bit with the woman named Anna so she could help with the dishes, Y/N decided to walk around the house. Gwen still hadn’t returned and despite her countless messages sent to her, they were seen but not replied to. Thankfully, Sebastian hadn’t left his office as promised which meant she only had to lie whenever any member of staff would ask if she needed something. 

The penthouse was pretty much a regular place with more rooms than she could ever imagine with some being locked and others being open and perfectly decorated yet seemed to be non inhabited. However, what had sparked her interest was the very last room she checked. The room’s wall except for one were filled with book shelves which were filled itself with endless amounts of books. She looked around, wondering if someone was spying on her, before entering the room, her hands grabbing the first book she saw. The Great Gatsby. It sorta made her chuckle how that had been the first book she caught, the story of a wealthy man who lives by himself. The book itself was in rather good condition with the traditional blue cover with those unsettling eyes staring right back at her. She opened the book, her eyes going to the date of print making her realise what she was holding. April, 1925. A first edition. 

      - Looking for a good read, Miss Y/N? - she dropped the book out of surprise, not expecting the voice. Her head snapped in the sound’s direction, watching as Sebastian walked over to her, slowly crutching down to grab the book from the ground.

       - Are these all yours? - this was the biggest self collection of books she’d ever seen, it was somewhat hard for her to wrap around her head it belonged to a single person, specially first editions. 

       - My father made sure I got an expensive education. 

       - Have you read all of these? - her eyes widen at the mere thought of it. Just reading one shelf of books looked like it would take at least five years, at beast. 

       - Not all of them ... some are in Greek. - he couldn’t help but be entranced by her as she lowered her head to hide the small smile that settled itself on her lips. - Are you one for reading?

       - I majored in English Literature, reading was all I did for three years. 

       - Fits. - he put his hands on the pockets of his formal trousers. - You wouldn’t lie to me, would you Miss Y/N? 

       - I wouldn’t think of it, Mr. Stan. - Y/N wasn’t one for lying unless necessary, specially to someone who had a reputation for ignoring empathy and other human emotions. 

       - Where’s my fiancée, Miss Y/N? - the mere question knocked the air away from her. - And please do not use the same excuse you used with my staff. I know everything that goes on in this house and I know for a fact she’s not in her room. 

       - I ... I don’t know. 

       - I think you need to figure out where your loyalty lies, Miss Y/N. - he picked her chin, making sure she looked into his eyes. If there was something he knew was to intimidate someone with his gaze alone, however, she looked embarrassed to be caught in a lie rather than scared. - As my employee, you owe me your loyalty and the truth. 

     - My loyalty lies with Gwen ... not with you. - she took a step backwards. He sucked his teeth, arms crossed on his chest. - I don’t mean to disrespect you, Mr. Stan but ... Gwen’s my friend and my employee and I owe her my loyalty. 

     - You do realise that if Miss Forrest gets hurt it is you who’s gonna be held accountable. 

     - Please don’t be mad at Gwen. - she rubbed her arms. - She’s never really wanted to get married, at all, to no one. This is a bit of a change she has to adapt to.

     - Don’t flatter yourself, angel. Genevieve Forrest is not exactly the type of woman I’d personally chose to be with but I’m not being childish about it. If you wanna have a good time under my employment then you better reconsider telling me the truth.

taglist: @sideeffectsofyou​

[yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen]

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller

Day 4: Tweeted- Benny Miller 

I have to admit this may be my favorite so far that I have written. I just love Benny so much and how adorable he is.

Check out my November writing challenge masterlist below and let me know if you have any requests for any of the prompts. 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 3: Clarity- Maxwell Lord 

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It was a strange thing to tell people when they asked about your boyfriend. Yes, he’s an MMA fighter, ex-special forces, and also an overgrown child.

You met Benny eight months ago at one of his local fights. A blind date set up by your friends started out as dinner with a nice normal doctor and ended up in bed with the entertainment for the night. You still felt sort of bad about how you had ditched the doctor but when you thought of how happy Benny made you it was worth it. 

You are sitting in the gym watching Benny train with his brother Will. The Miller brothers were a package deal and luckily Will and you hit it off right away. Will is going through some footage from an old fight while you scroll through your phone on twitter. Since you had begun dating Benny, the world of MMA became a norm in your life. You followed other fighters and coaches on twitter and learned as much as you could. It was at that moment an idea struck you. 

“Hey baby...babe....Benny!” you shout getting both men’s attention. 

“What do you need, Tiger?” Benny smiles at you. 

You roll your eyes, you hate that nickname, one time you had one of your nieces' Daniel Tiger songs in your head and you accidentally sang it out loud...one time. But that’s all it took for him to call you Tiger forever. 

“Have you ever thought of getting a twitter account for yourself as a fighter? Not like a personal account but something for press,” the look on his face makes you want to laugh out loud. 

“What the fuck is a twit….twitter? Is that some kind of STD?” oh your poor golden retriever and his lack of knowledge at technology. 

“No...baby no. It’s a social media account that people get to post about their lives. Lots of other fighters use it to connect with fans, and promote their fights, Will back me up here?” you gesture to the other Miller who looks just or more confused than the former. 

“Uhm, I honestly don’t know what the hell you're talking about, my girl just got me a Facebook account like two weeks ago,” Will shrugs at Benny. 

You roll your eyes so far you can see the inside of your brain before you tell them, “It would be great Benny, we could make you an account tonight when you come over for dinner and I can show you how it works, just trust me baby.” 

“I trust you Tiger, how about you get going home and I’ll pick up the take-out and be there within the hour?” Benny stands before walking over to you pulling you into his arms. You have to look up since he is a solid foot taller than you and he pecks you on the lips before attempting to deepen the kiss. Damn this man is insatiable. 

“Alright enough!” Will shouts, breaking the two of you apart abruptly, “Let the woman go Benny we need to finish up with this and then he’s all yours.” 

“Oh brother, I already am all hers,” Benny tells his brother loudly before leaning down to your ear and whispering, “and she is all MINE.” You can’t help the shiver that runs up your spine before he puts a wet kiss below your ear and gently pushes you towards the door, slapping your ass on the way out. You wave goodbye to Will and make your way home. 

Benny arrives exactly one hour later, two whole pizzas in hand, and a six pack of beer. You had been having pizza a lot more often since the other guys started calling you both monsters for your equal love of pineapple and ham pizza. Over the next three hours you and Benny work on setting up his twitter account. 

It’s honestly way more frustrating teaching him than you thought it would be. He asks more questions than a grandpa learning how to use a smartphone. You didn’t know a grown man could ask so many questions and so quickly. 

“What are followers? Is this some sort of cult website. Babe, I don’t wanna join a cult.”

“So I click this little round A symbol to tag someone in my tweet? Is this even English?” 

“Are hashtags named after hash browns because they look like hash browns...wait do we have any hash browns….baaaabbbeee now I’m hungry!” 

You groan before slapping your forehead, watching your big MMA fighter boyfriend dig through the freezer for hash browns. Coming back soon with a pout on his face, having found no hash browns. Damn how can one be so adorable?

“That’s it, I got work in the morning. I promise we can work on this more tomorrow!” You stand from the couch popping your joints as you stretch. Benny comes over to you wrapping you up in a hug. His warm arms wrap around you and he kisses the side of your neck. 

“Thank you,” the words are slightly muffled against your skin, “I really appreciate you doing this stuff with me. Supporting me with being a fighter, I promise one day I am going to make you proud of me.” 

You pull him back, placing your hands on his face. “I am already so fucking proud of you Benjamin Miller and don’t you ever forget it. Yes, you suck at technology butI promise I don’t love you any less because of it.” 

Benny goes quiet and the smile drops from his face… “My little Tiger... you love me?” 

Oh shit. That’s not exactly how you imagined telling Benny you loved him but when has anything in your relationship been conventional. You take a deep breath meeting his eyes before you smile, “Of course I love you baby. You are the sweetest, toughest, most badass, old man on the planet and I fucking love you so much.” 

Benny’s eyes become glassy before he’s pulling you in for a kiss, and wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I love you too Tiger, so fucking much,” he kisses you again slower this time, “go to bed baby I will clean up out here and join you in a couple minutes.” 

You pull away first, exhausted not only physically but emotionally too and you kiss Benny on the lips again gently before walking back towards your room. Benny has his own place with his brother but he’s kind of like a stray dog that followed you home one day and never left. Most of his stuff is at your place anyways, since he sleeps there every night. You pull back the covers and get into the cool sheets, from the nightstand your phone pings. 

You pick up the phone and see someone tagged you in a tweet. When you open it your eyes water and you clutch the phone to your chest. 

@y/n is the best girlfriend on the planet, AND SHE LOVES ME! I LOVE YOU TO BABE!

You press the like button on the tweet before turning off the light snuggling into the blankets. From the hallway you hear the sounds of Benny’s boots on the floor walking towards the bedroom. He gets ready for bed, and pulls you close to his body, his arms wrapping around your waist pulling you tight to him. Your head rests on his chest. 

Just when you're about to fall asleep you feel him tap your shoulder gently, “babe…” he whispers, “I tweeted all by myself.” 

You laugh out loud before snuggling to him tighter, “yes you did, I even liked it. And Benny?” 

“Yeah Tiger?” 

“I love you too.” 

Day 5: Holy - Llewyn Davis 

[theawkwardterrier]

Fake It, Make It

A tropey Steggy Secret Santa gift for the excellent @sagesiren​/@theeleganteuropeanwoman! Wishing you as good an end to 2020 as you can get, and an amazing 2021!!  ✨✨✨

Summary: When Steve tells his mother that he is now dating a woman named Peggy Carter, his mother immediately wants to meet her. Which Steve would, of course, be perfectly happy to arrange, except that he is not in fact dating Peggy Carter (as much as he might want to be).

Read on AO3

Steve’s mother has been a nurse for thirty-three years. She’s familiar with the medical system and its limitations, and she’s a straight shooter even when it comes to her own mortality.

So when her doctor sends her for more tests after her annual physical, she mentions it to Steve during their weekly phone call.

“Dr. Nakhwa is worried,” she admits. “It’s bloodwork and scans now, but it might become something very quickly.”

“What can I do?” Steve asks, immediate and stricken. He had been trying to work on dinner as they talked, and his pot of water roils and hisses without answer.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything,” she assures him practically, then sighs, quick and heartfelt and without drama. “But if it is something, I’ll just be so sorry for all the things in your life I’ll miss out on. Your first gallery show—”

“Ma,” Steve protests. No one knows his art better than she does - she signed him up for all the free afterschool art classes and every summer camp they could afford, and there are still paintings of his stored in her apartment a decade after he moved out - but he got his practicality from her, started training in carpentry on the recommendation of George Barnes back when he was a teenager and knew that there wouldn’t be money for college. He’s been able to do more custom woodworking lately and word has been getting around about his skill, but he’s accepted that he won’t be making his living off of the fine arts.

Undeterred, his mother says, “Oh, hush, even hobbyists can have dreams. But if you don’t like that, I’d be happy to see you in a relationship instead. It would ease my heart to know that you’ve found someone who can be beside you.”

And because easing his mother’s heart has always been at the top of his priority list, Steve finds himself blurting, “I’ve actually been dating someone. Now. I’m dating someone now.”

“Oh?” she says keenly. “Well, I hope to meet them someday soon.”

Steve coughs. “I’m sure you will.” He hopes that he’s somehow magically become a better liar in the past thirty seconds than he was for the first thirty years of his life.

Seemingly forgetting her earlier seriousness entirely, his mother adds, “What can you tell me about them? Can I have a name at least?”

“Peggy Carter,” Steve says without pause.

Later, he will ask himself why he didn’t just lie. It’s too soon, I don’t want to jinx anything. We made a bet and I’m not allowed to say her name out loud for a week. She’s a spy and I can only tell you her alias. He will berate himself for not just diving for some sort of distracting conversational offramp: the still-boiling pot, the cat yowling down in the alley, “that’s not important now, what else did your doctor say?” But he will never wonder why this was the name which came out of his mouth. He never has to search for it. She’s always on his mind these days.

“Peggy Carter,” his mother repeats. “Well, I’ll be happy to meet her. I’m off two Saturdays from now, if the two of you would like to drop by for a visit.”

His mother is the only blood family he has, that he’s ever even known. He’ll do anything for her. Even, apparently, say yes to this.

His mother’s follow-up scans come back clear. She tells him that in one breath, and tells him in the next that she’s so looking forward to meeting Peggy this upcoming Saturday.

“I don’t want to put this off until the next time I have a health scare,” she says. “And I could tell she’s important to you just by the way you said her name.”

So in his relief at her news, and to his later horror, instead of saying that he and Peggy have broken up, instead of saying that she has an emergency, instead of saying that she’s gone back to England indefinitely and they’ll just have to do it some other time, he says, “We’re looking forward to it to.”

When Steve confesses his predicament, Bucky laughs so hard that he slips off of his stool at Finnegan’s and almost knocks himself out on the bar.

“Could you at least help while you’re doing that?” Steve asks, torn between impatience and desperation, but his best friend just collapses into laughter again.

His mother already knows most of his friends. He supposes he could hire someone, but that seems like it might be taking it a step too far. And anyway, he’s overwhelmingly thankful that his mother is still healthy; it seems ungrateful, a temptation of fate, to give more weight and trickery to the lie.

Which means that there’s really only one thing left to do.

It doesn’t mean he’s relishing the prospect under the circumstances.

(Though he wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it under others.)

He asks Peggy Carter out for what’s probably the strangest date of her life and certainly the strangest of his on Monday, just as they’re finishing their lunch break. The rest of the crew, coolers over their shoulders, is already heading back over to the job site - Morita knocking his knuckles against that hideous brown hard hat of Dugan’s, Jacques explaining something as Gabe leans in - but Steve always does a quick sweep for trash just to make sure they’ve left the area clear. Peggy is heading in the other direction to track down Phillips. The boss is still legendarily prickly, but he doesn’t trust any architect but her these days.

“Peggy,” Steve forces himself to call before she’s disappeared. He wishes that this were just another one of those times that he had called her back for those innocuous, desperate five extra minutes of chatting. “I need to—Would you—Can I ask you a question? A favor, I guess?”

She tilts her head in invitation and he spills the story as quickly as he can, the rip-off-the-bandaid method.

“—and if you aren’t busy on Saturday, I was wondering if you could come over to say hi to her. It wouldn’t have to be for long, but it would make her really happy and I would—I’d really appreciate it. I can’t tell you how much.”

He stuffs his twisting hands into his pockets as he finishes, and pushes back his shoulders, hoping that he’ll still have a bit of dignity even once she’s rejected him. He doesn’t think she’ll be mean about it - he knows who Peggy is, the type of person to hand back hammers to the apprentices who’ve dropped them with a wordless wink, the type who lets someone else pick the takeout place if they’re having a bad day even when it’s her turn - but still, she’s Peggy Carter, and he’s Steve Rogers, the random guy who she knows from job sites and now the time he’d lied to his mother about dating her and then asked her to help him keep up the ruse.

“That certainly is a predicament,” she says instead of any of the gentle letdowns he was imagining. “But I must ask: why did you pick me?” It’s chilly today but bright, and the noon sun glints off her hair. He catches a smile, there and gone again, at the corners of her mouth.

“I said the first name that came into my head,” he tells her honestly, and then, just as honestly, “And I knew that my mother would like you, if you ever happened to meet each other.”

“Hmm,” says Peggy, smile all the way gone now, as if he’s disappointed her somehow. Her eyes are still soft, though. “Well, I suppose it’s quite lucky I am free on Saturday, then.”

“Lucky,” Steve echoes, and tries to figure out whether it’s true.

“You absolutely will not go out in this weather,” his mother admonishes, her arms set in a way that Steve is extremely familiar with.

“I’m certain that the subway—” Peggy starts.

“Of course the subway will be running,” Sarah says with the confidence of a born New Yorker. “Late and jam-packed, announcing that they’re going express any damn time, and there’s no reason for you to be on it.”

Peggy looks over to Steve as if he might step in, but even as he gives her a wide-eyed, helpless shrug, his mother is already leaving the living room and heading down the hall, calling, “I’ll get fresh sheets for you two, Steve, but please find Peggy something to wear.” (Sarah Rogers is surprisingly strong, but she’s also rail thin and an extremely charitable five foot two, and Peggy is...not. Something Steve has absolutely no complaints about, to be frank.)

They’ve told his mother that they’ve been seeing each other for nearly six months - Steve mostly left that part of the storytelling up to Peggy, who managed to spin something that had enough details to seem plausible but wasn’t so elaborate that Steve had felt bad about misleading his mother with a fairy tale. But even if their relationship was real, there’s no reason to assume that they would have spent the night with each other, that they would be comfortable sharing a bedroom.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Steve says immediately and with vehemence.

Peggy casts her eye over the couch, more of a loveseat really; the living room is too small for much else. “Will you be removing your head or your feet to fit, then?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Voice low to avoid his mother’s uncanny hearing, he says, “This whole day has already been more than you agreed to. I don’t want to force you into a situation that would make you uncomfortable.”

“I would say the same as it regards you,” she responds. “And if I was uncomfortable with the situation, I believe I would be the first to know. Now, I think I was promised something to sleep in?”

The collection of clothes he keeps at his mother’s is small, but he manages to dig up a large T-shirt and a pair of flannel pants for Peggy and the same for himself. She smiles at him, leaving to change, and he takes the opportunity to do the same before turning to put the sheets his mother had found on the beds, faced head-on with the reminder of the close quarters of his bedroom.

There isn’t much to see: his bed, the tiny closet, a dresser. He used to do his homework at the kitchen table because there wasn’t room for a desk. His bed frame had been a gift representing several birthdays and a Christmas as well, back in elementary school. Every other weekend, he would slide the trundle bed out, gleeful to finally have a chance to have sleepovers with Bucky somewhere other than in sleeping bags on the living room rug. The pull-out had used up all the extra floor space and he’d had to crawl off the end of the bed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, but when he and Buck were telling each other scary stories quietly enough that his mother wouldn’t hear or reading comics under the covers, taking turns holding the shared flashlight, what had it mattered?

It definitely seems to matter now.

He stares at the two beds, tucked compactly side by side, and realizes that soon he and Peggy are going to be lying in them. Even if he pushes them as far apart as possible, it would be barely two inches before the dresser got in the way. No matter what, their hands could touch across that gap. If she’s a mobile sleeper, they could end up practically curled around one another…

He scrubs a hand vigorously over his face, mussing his hair and probably leaving him red-cheeked, but gathering himself. He makes both beds with care, returning to the linen closet to add top sheets, comforters, and light blankets too; he has no idea how Peggy likes to sleep.

The thought leaves him wide-eyed once again, but it’s too late to force his thoughts elsewhere. Peggy knocks just then, and he tells her to come in, hoping that his voice sounds normal as he does.

“I should have gotten you a toothbrush,” he says immediately upon seeing her, ready to scramble over and take care of it, but she waves a hand.

“Your mother gave me one. She also added my clothing to a basket of laundry she was taking downstairs so I would have ‘something fresh to wear in the morning.’ She wouldn’t hear any protests.”

As if she couldn’t have already figured it out from everything else today, Steve says, “She’s like that.”

“Yes,” Peggy says, thankfully amused. “I assumed.” She turns to the beds and asks, “Now, which would you like?”

Which one he’d like? He can’t think of anything that could matter less. He lists for her the pros and cons of each bed with the care usually reserved for life-changing decisions. She follows along seriously, though he recognizes the touch of humor around her mouth.

Ten minutes later, he is lying on the trundle, and she has her back to him as she examines the spines of the books on the small shelf mounted beside his bed.

She has washed her makeup off and her hair is in a single, simple braid. He’s heard the guys on the crew refer to certain women as “unbelievably beautiful.” Peggy isn’t that. She looks exactly as pretty right now as he had imagined she would, exactly as pretty as she does in her jeans and sensible blouse and Day-Glo vest on the construction site, or the time he had seen her dressed up in a gown for some awards gala, or when he had picked her up that morning and saw her wearing that red sweater with a black pencil skirt and felt lucky just to be walking next to her.

Still, he does find looking at her just now a bit hard. Difficult, he amends quickly, shoving the word hard away. She’s somewhat difficult to look at like this, unraveled and lovely.

“How fantastically minded you were,” she comments, smiling over her shoulder before flipping over to face him. “Is this still the sort of thing you like to read?”

“I usually end up with a bit of everything,” he admits. “But yeah, there’s some great sci-fi and fantasy being written these days.”

“It can be nice,” she says, “visiting other worlds.”

“It can be,” he agrees, not telling her that that’s what today has felt like: however awkwardly, unconventionally attained, it’s been like a brief, wonderful visit to another world.

They were only meant to stay for brunch.

“Don’t cook anything,” he had begged his mother. She was always covering shifts for other people, running errands for neighbors when she wasn’t working, on her feet all day regardless. Having a day off where she hadn’t already scheduled sixteen things was something of a miracle, and he was going to force her to take advantage of it. “I’ll cook.”

Voice somewhat insultingly skeptical down the phone, she’d said, “So, do you already know that this woman has a cast-iron stomach, or are you looking to poison a guest in my home, Steven Rogers?”

In the end, they’d agreed that he would take care of picking up fresh bagels from their favorite place. Of course, when Steve and Peggy arrived, his mother had already set out lox, cut fruit and vegetables, hard boiled eggs, and about six different types of cream cheese.

“You promised not to make anything,” Steve said irritably, giving his mother a hug.

“I promised not to cook,” she corrected. “Boiling a few eggs isn’t cooking. Even you can do that, after all.” And Peggy laughed from beside Steve and stepped forward to introduce herself.

Steve had promised Peggy that they wouldn’t stay longer than a couple of hours, and so at exactly 1:30 he glanced noticeably at his watch and asked if she needed to go to “that other thing you had scheduled.”

“Thankfully not,” she smiled, finishing her piece of crumb cake (his mother swore she just happened to have it left over). “I postponed it, and I’m certainly happy that I did.”

And despite the situation, Steve was happy too - happy that she’d come, happy that she stayed. She and his mother traded stories about their respective jobs, lamenting that even though they were of different generations and worked in completely different fields, one with women as the majority and one with them in the minority, they had so many of the same experiences: dealing with stressed or snappish or condescending people, having their knowledge and authority questioned, and managing to get enormous, important work done skillfully anyway.

“I still love it,” Peggy had said as they moved from the kitchen table to the living room. (Steve barely thought about taking the seat beside Peggy, and then started overthinking why he hadn’t considered more.) “Despite everything, I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” said Sarah, voice already fond, as if she’s known Peggy more than a few hours. “I wouldn’t either.”

They’d talked about how Steve had taken shop class in high school - a few knickknacks he’d made were even still scattered around the apartment for his mother to show off; when she’d passed one over to him, even though he recognized its amateurishness, he felt a tenderness fill him, as if he was holding the hand of a younger version of himself. When he passed it to Peggy, he felt the gentleness of her hand on it too.

Later, he would realize that it was a bit suspicious for him to talk about how he’d gone from an A- in Shop to a carpentry apprenticeship to starting to work with Phillips’s general contracting company: surely if they had truly been dating, they would have talked about it all at some point before. But in the moment all he saw was the flicker in her eye as she told him that, oh, she certainly remembered his first day working with the crew.

It wasn’t that they didn’t notice the weather turning - the first flakes fell as the light began dimming low and gray toward evening - it was only that they were a bit busy making hot drinks and setting up the Trivial Pursuit board. This was probably how Steve would have been spending his afternoon regardless, but he watched Peggy carefully for signs that she was eager for an escape and simply too polite to say so. He even leaned over when his mother excused herself briefly and asked whether she was sure she still wanted to stay, to which she had responded, “I’ll almost certainly have my sports and leisure wedge after my next turn. Why in the world would I leave?”

When Steve went downstairs to retrieve the Thai takeout they had ordered, he did see that it was getting pretty messy outside. The wind had a bite to it, too, so he gave his order of miso soup to the man who’d delivered the food alongside the tip, and decided to see if there was an extra pair of boots around for Peggy to use later.

But after they’d finished with their dinner and watching The Sound of Music, which had been just starting as they’d flipped through TV channels, his mother had turned to the nine o’clock news, saw how hard the snow was coming down, and refused to be persuaded that a change in footwear would be enough. Truthfully, Steve would probably have stayed without question if he had been by himself, but the fact is that he came with Peggy. Peggy, who had stayed long past the anticipated two hours. Peggy, who he was not actually dating. Peggy, who he was now meant to sleep beside.

“I’m sorry for the early night,” he apologizes again as they lie together in the darkness with the radiator hissing slightly. Not realizing how things would turn out today, he had scheduled a 9 A.M. consult with a couple who were looking to have some built-in bookshelves added and he has be up early enough to bring Peggy home and get back to his apartment to change before heading into Manhattan.

“It’s no trouble,” she assures him again. “There’s nothing at all the matter with getting a good night’s rest.”

“And I’m sorry again about everything. About how today turned out, and for getting you into it into the first place.”

“Oh Steve,” she sighs. “Will you shut up about that, please?” and even though her tone lacks sharpness, the words are enough for him to flip over toward her in surprise. “I truly enjoyed myself today. And I would have come even if you had simply asked me without any sort of exceptional circumstances.”

“What do you—?”

“I liked meeting your mother. She’s nothing at all like mine, which perhaps is why I appreciate her so much. I liked sitting around and talking, playing games and eating good food and singing along with Julie Andrews, and I liked spending time with you.” Her voice dips even softer. “I liked it all, and I would have come anyway, if you had only asked.”

With the cloud cover and the snow still coming down, the window lets in little light. He can’t make out her expression, can’t see if she’s just saying things out of tiredness, or reminiscing about a pleasant afternoon, or if she might just be hinting at something which would justify the elevated beating of his heart.

He nearly thanks her for being a good friend, but somehow, the way that she’s turned onto her side to face him as well, an invitation, makes him breathe in and say, “But you’re Peggy Carter. I don’t know why you would have bothered.”

“Is that what you think of me?” she asks. He’s never heard her voice with that twisting edge to it and it takes a moment for him to recognize it: hurt. “That I’m some high and mighty miss, and I would never deign to even look at the likes of you?”

“No!” he says, not frantic, hard and simple and factual, trying to make her see. “It’s just that you’re Peggy Carter,” he repeats. “There are probably a dozen awards on your shelves. I’ve seen you skewer guys with a half dozen words for propositioning you, then get right back to work. Phillips doesn’t like anyone except his dog, but he turns down projects if you aren’t going to be working on them. You wanted to design buildings and you made that happen for yourself. You’ve worked on dozens of projects and they’re all different but I’ve wanted to stay in each one, even the offices.” His voice doesn’t drop as he continues, even as he half hopes that his words will be lost in the pillow beneath his head. “You’re creative and determined and gorgeous and fascinating and funny. Just talking to you should be any thinking person’s favorite thing. And I’m only a guy.”

She inhales deeply through her nose, as if she is trying to keep her temper somehow, but when she speaks, her voice is calm. “When there are novices on a job, you’re the one who helps them through their nerves and shows them the right way to do things. Other women have told me that they like to work on the same site as you because they know you would never make them uncomfortable and you’ve fought anyone who tried. After an evening out, you give your share of the tip and then stay behind and add a bit extra. You do it every time, Steve. I’ve watched you.”

“Anyone could—”

“The first day I met you,” she interrupts, “you introduced yourself to Mr. Jarvis. Most people don’t, you know. They’re too busy noticing Howard to even pay attention. The day after, you brought soup for Ana because you had heard she was ill. I don’t know anyone else who would have done that, bring soup for someone who he’d never met, the wife of the electrician’s admin he’d only known for a day.” Even with the hiss and clank of the heating, he thinks he can make out every dimension of the breath she takes in before she adds, low and direct, “You’re loyal and sharp and kind, you make wonderful art and adore your mother, and you’re so upstandingly moral I half expect you to ride into work one day on a white steed. Had you not kept moving away every time I tried to get near, I would have asked you out long ago. And if you had asked me all the way back then, before I knew anything else, I would have said yes too, just because of the soup.”

It’s been three years since he started working with Phillips, three years of watching from across construction zones as she cut stubborn men down to size with a sharp word (or her fist if necessary), of lingering at lunch for the chance to see her smile or hear her opinion on current affairs or some article that they had both read. All that time of thinking that she would never possibly consider him more than a friend, and she already had.

“Can I—” he starts, his hand moving tentatively into the tiny space between their beds. She catches his fingers with hers and lifts them to her mouth, placing a delicate kiss on the backs of his knuckles. His breath comes sharply into his lungs.

He has, a time or two thousand, pictured some imaginary world where she might kiss him one day. This isn’t at all how he envisioned it in any of those dreams - they were never in side-by-side twin beds at his mother’s house, for one thing.

Nothing in him cares.

When she says goodbye to him the next morning, his mother gives him an innocent smile and a reminder to drop by a Duane Reade for chapstick and...anything else they might need. He almost tells her that they were only kissing, but doesn’t think it will help. Besides, he was trying to avoid embarrassing details by stripping the beds before she woke up so she wouldn’t notice that the sheets had only been truly mussed on one.

(He wouldn’t have been expecting that sleeping in a narrow bed with Peggy half sprawled on top of him would be wonderful, but he’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t right about everything.)

Exactly fifty-one weeks later, his mother asks him how he and Peggy are celebrating their anniversary. He’s halfway through telling her before he realizes that she’s not supposed to know that it’s their anniversary at all, that she’s still meant to think they’ve been together a year and a half already.

“As if you’ve been able to lie to me once in your life, Steven Rogers,” she says with a laugh. “You said her name and I knew that you weren’t telling me the whole truth the same moment I knew that she meant something to you anyway. Now tell me about the ring.”

“How did you—?”

He has the feeling she’s waving a dismissive hand on her end of the phone. “Nothing in the world easier than reading you, sweetheart.” Her tone turns a bit thoughtful. “Peggy, on the other hand, she’s a bit harder. But even that first time you brought her here, I could tell. When the time comes for you to ask, she’ll say yes.”

She’s right.

[bluebellwriting]

Mom-Friend Looking For A Dad-Friend - Part 3

Sylvia’s POV

Sylvia knows she should feel guilty. You look so uncomfortable at the party, back pressed against the wall, eyes darting around like a stalked animal watching out for a hunter. Your arms are crossed over your stomach in what she recognizes as your signature move--something you always did during your one year of overlap at Starfleet when she dragged you to the occasional party--quite effective at hiding your body from the world. 

You look so out of your element in the fit and flare dress she forced you into, even though you shouldn’t. Your curves look fantastic and after hours of deliberation you were both able to tame the signature Tilly Sisters Frizz TM. She’s actually quite proud of the smokey eye she was able to slather on you and the lipstick she convinced you to wear. You look beautiful, I mean, you’re her big sister, her first and bestest friend, of course you look beautiful to her. 

But she’s hoping that you can see that in yourself too because she knows another certain someone on the ship sees you as absolutely enthralling.

Her eyes flit between you and the door, hoping that Saru will take the hint and actually show up. She’d been dropping little details to him all week about the party and how you had wanted to attend (which was a lie) to meet someone (another lie). 

What? She’s desperate. She’s been watching her basically-Captain/resident dad of the entire ship quietly fawn over her sister for months and vice versa. She needed to up the ante if she was going to get you two together, and well, nothing is more motivating than jealousy. One thing about post-vahar’ai Saru that everyone was picking up on was that he was far more expressive and a lot less shy. Especially, Sylvia noticed, when it came to you. She actually heard him growl once at an ensign that got a little too close to you in the cafeteria.

Actually, said ensign is making his way over to you right now with two drinks and a drunken smirk on his face. Her eyes glance nervously at the door. Still no sign of Saru. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

(Y/N)’s POV

You were going to kill your sister. You hated parties with a passion. All the people rubbing against each other, rubbing against you and spilling your drink, the form fitting clothing. Especially the form fitting clothing.

Not to mention that the few times you have gone to parties always ended in you being abandoned by friends who found someone to go home with while you were left alone and feeling unwanted. 

The other reason you’re absolutely miserable at this party is because the one man you actually want to dance with isn’t here. Because why would he? A room of his crew mates grinding against each other isn’t exactly his scene. But your eyes still dart to the door, willing Saru to march through those doors and take you in his arms like in a typical Earth romantic comedy. 

Except why would he? You’ve been ignoring him for days and have most likely effectively destroyed any interest he could have had for you. He probably thinks you’re so shallow and immature and weird.

“Hey there.” 

Your eyes meet the drunken smile of Mark, an ensign on the ship who has flirted with you on more than one occasion. He’s come to your office numerous times, always feigning emotional distress so that he has an excuse to flirt with you. You’ve turned him down time and time again, sighting that you were not interested. Mark doesn’t seem to get the hint.

“Good evening, Mark.” You straighten your back but keep your arms around yourself, mindful that the dress your sister gave you is low-cut and showing off more cleavage than you’ve ever showed in your life. You shudder when Mark’s eyes immediately wander to your ample chest. You push yourself away from the wall but Mark steps in front of you, effectively caging you in.

“I got you a drink.”

“Oh. Thank you, but I’m not thirsty.” You try to take your leave again, really just wanting to go home and wallow in a bowl of ice cream.

“Actually,” you continue, “I was just about to head out.”

“Aw, why?” He leans forward, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. “Don’t you want to dance with me, Doctor?”

“I’m not much of a dancer. Now if you will excuse me--”

“What the hell is wrong with me, huh?” Mark snaps and slams both cups on the ground. “I’m a nice guy. A good looking guy. You could do far worse.” 

His words are slurred but none the less furious. His eyes are dark and glaring at you now, something evil within them. 

You glance around for help but the music is too loud and there are just too many bodies. Nobody seems to notice your distress or the sudden violent nature of Mark.

“I’m sorry, Mark. I’m sure you’re very nice but I--” One of his hands punches the wall next to your head and you yelp.

“You’re fucking right! Better than any guy you could get with in your life, you fat fucking bitch--” In an instant you’re pulled away from the wall by a strong arm while Mark is lifted from the back of his collar and pressed harshly, face first into the wall. 

Saru POV - a few minutes earlier

Saru stares at himself in the mirror, scrutinizing what is now the third outfit he’s tried on. It has to be perfect. Tonight has to be perfect. Because you’re perfect and you’re at that party waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet and damnit, that someone is going to be Saru. He’s not sure what he would do if you found someone else to dance with tonight, to hold and to love. It would completely destroy him. So yes, everything has to be perfect. 

This whole week, Saru has been completely miserable. He’s sure you’ve been ignoring him and he’s not entirely sure why, except he’s completely convinced that he’s done something wrong. He’s tried reaching out, but you keep turning him away at every turn and it’s truly breaking his heart. He misses his meals with you, he misses relaxing in the observation deck with you, and he dreads seeing the exhaustion on your face when he passes your office (which he’s found time to do every day under the guise of “checking in on the med bay” -- everyone knows he’s definitely not checking in on the med bay). 

And then there was Ensign Whatever His Name Is, who has become the bane of Saru’s existence. The last time you had dinner with him, Ensign Asshole decided to sit at your table and unabashedly sidle up to you. It wasn’t that Saru saw him as a threat, it did not go unnoticed how uncomfortable you were at the ensign’s advances and, let’s face it, Saru knows he’s far better suited for you. But it was your discomfort, and the way the ensign’s eyes lingered on you like you were a piece of meat for him to consume and then toss aside, that made Saru want to flip the table and launch the man across the room. 

Maybe that’s why you’ve been shutting him out, though. Maybe for some inexplicable reason, you were incredibly attracted to this man and you were leaving Saru in the dust. His heart clenches and his stomach feels pained at the thought.

Saru runs a hand over this new outfit, debating whether you would approve of the color, if he should wear something more casual, or something fancier? Maybe something... form fitting? Michael had mentioned that humans tend to wear something a little tighter to seem attractive...

Michael alluded that you might be at this party tonight, and immediately he began thinking up ways to woo you, to show you that he was obviously the right man for you. Or at the very least, it would be a reason to talk to you, to figure out how to get back in your good graces. He doesn’t have to date you at all, he just needs you back in his life in any capacity.

A ping on his PADD interrupts his ruminating. He grabs it, smiling and hoping that it’s a message from you. 

It’s not.

Sylvia: Are you coming?!

Saru: Yes. I just need a few moments

Sylvia: You need to come right now!!! It’s (Y/N)!!!

Saru’s eyes widen and his heartbeat accelerates in an instant. He tosses the PADD on his bed and makes quick strides to the common room where the party is being held. His mind races as he imagines what could have happened. Were you injured? Were you asking for him?

When he arrives at the party he stands in the doorway, scanning the many heads below him for the curly (h/c) hair he knows so well and loves so much. 

“Saru!” Sylvia has been by the door waiting the moment he walked in to yank on his arm. She frantically points to a spot on the wall and looks at him with helpless eyes. “I can’t get to her. There are too many people.” 

Saru’s eyes track from her finger to the wall, where he sees your small form cowering under that same ensign’s body. Seeing the fear in your eyes, the helplessness, and the tears starting to pool, stirs something deep and vicious in Saru. His instincts go into overdrive, like he isn’t in control of himself anymore. Or maybe he is, this new, fearless version of himself has taken over. 

Saru marches forward, shoulders tensed and his mouth set in an uncharacteristic snarl. The crowd seems to part for the seething Kelpien until there is nothing between him and Ensign Dickhead, who can’t seem to read the room. 

With one arm he pulls you out from your spot between the wall and this scum of the earth. With his other arm, he snatches the ensign’s collar, lifts him off the floor and smashes his head into the wall, holding him there. He growls, a low and savage sound. Everyone is looking at him but all that really matters in this moment is your wellbeing and the man who tried to threaten you. 

Even though the ensign is off the ground, he is nowhere near as tall as Saru, who is looming over him. Saru leans down, ignoring the whimpers of pain from the ensign who definitely has a broken nose.

He snarls, “Don’t touch what isn’t yours.” 

He wants to do more to this man. He wants to beat his head against the wall. He wants to drop him on the ground and kick his stomach until he can’t breathe. He wants to shove him in the airlock and hit ‘eject.’ He’s basically the captain, he can do it. But your gentle hands wrap around his free forearm, reminding him that you’re here and that everyone is watching.

He glances down at you with a serious gaze, looking to you for guidance. ‘What do you want me to do to this man?’ his stare asks. Because he’d do anything you asked him. 

You give him small shake of the head and Saru drops the man immediately. As two security officers and your sister swarm the bleeding man on the ground, you tug on Saru’s arm, signaling him to follow you.

Your walk together is quiet. Saru still feels the anger coursing through him. He really wants to turn around and finish the ensign off, and he doesn’t particularly care how out of character this is for him. That man deserves every bit of pain Saru can muster for what he did to you, what he was going to do to you. But there’s also the stress, the concern that you are furious with him, that he was too violent, that he had startled you. Would you hate him now? Are you afraid of him?

You tug his arm one last time, taking him to... his room. 

Third Person POV

You drag him inside and lead him to his bed. After a few moments, Saru realizes that you want him to sit. So he does. He’s still taller than you, but your face, your eyes, your lips are infinitely closer to his now. Your hands slowly trace from their hold on his forearms, up his arms and shoulders, to hold his cheeks. Your eyes look deeply into his own, and he can see that there are still tears in your eyes.

Instinctually, Saru’s arms find their way around your waist and tug you closer to him. You ease into him immediately because after that display, you know that there is nowhere safer than Saru’s embrace. One of his hands rubs soothing circles into your back while the other stays around your waist. Your head buries itself into his shoulder while your arms wrap around his neck.

You both stay like that for a few moments, relishing each other, acknowledging that you are both together and safe in the garden that is Saru’s room.

“You’re not mad?” Saru whispers.

“A little startled.”

“Oh.” 

You pull away slightly but your hands return to his cheeks. 

“I’ve never seen you so...”

“Angry?” Saru’s eyes are downcast, waiting for the moment you tell him yes, you were so vicious, I could never love someone so violent.

“Valiant.” You give him a shy smile with a hint of embarrassment. 

Oh. 

Both of Saru’s hands return to your waist and give it a comforting squeeze. 

“Did he hurt you?” Saru’s eyes scan over you.

“No, no. He just scared me.” 

He pulls you closer so you can lean your head against his chest. Like you weigh nothing at all, he lifts you onto his lap and wraps his arms around you again. You don’t know where this forward and overly affectionate Saru came from, but you’re not about to start complaining. You’ve dreamt of this after all.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “You really didn’t need to get that fierce with him.”

“I know, I know but... That wasn’t right. He was horrible and he was going to hurt you and you deserve so much more than that.” You shrug slightly, not fully believing him. Your whole life you’ve only attracted less-than-sub-par men and at some point you just started to assume that you never deserved better. 

“(Y/N) Tilly I am being serious. You deserve the best that this universe has to offer. You deserve someone who will respect you and love you, who thinks you’re the most brilliant and stunning woman who has ever lived.”

“And who thinks that?” You reply meekly, really hoping he’s about to confess to you. But the mind is a horrible, merciless entity, dead set on dashing such hopes.

“Well... If it wasn’t already obvious,” Saru gulps and takes a deep, steady breath. “I think that.”

Screw you, mind. 

“Really?”

“I do. I have thought so since the moment I met you and each moment spent with you has only reinforced how I feel.” Saru bows his head and nuzzles his forehead against yours. 

“I love you,” he whispers, as if those three words have the power to end his entire existence

You release a shaky breath and let your tears fall.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” you whisper and Saru’s shoulders deflate. 

“You don’t feel the same,” he whimpers in the most pathetic way possible. It causes your heart to wrench.

“I was so convinced that you felt this way about Michael or, or somebody else, anybody but me,” you sniff. “And I was ignoring you because I couldn’t stand the idea of not being able to love you. You must think I’m such a child.”

You look away from him but his hand immediately moves under your chin and directs you to look up. He’s beaming at you, eyes glassy with joy, and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

You lean up and capture his lips in yours, conveying all the love you feel for him. Saru inhales sharply through his nose but lets out a breathy moan as he leans into your kiss. His hands tighten their hold on you and pull you closer, until there is barely any space left between you both. 

You pull back by barely an inch, not daring to stray too far from this man.

“I love you too,” you whisper. 

Saru beams at you, shyly, but the glow of that smile speaks volumes. He kisses you again, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck, securing you to him. 

[hopelikethemoon]

the three of us (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: the three of us Rating: PG-13 Length: Warnings: discussions of pregnancy planning, angst, heartache Notes: this chapter made my heart hurt. Set in 1996. You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Summary: Javier and Reader have not had the success they hoped for. 

Taglist:  @grapemama​​​​  @seawhisperer​​​​ @huliabitch​​​​ @pedropascalito​​​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​​​@thewallpapergoesorido​​​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​​ @gooddaykate​​​​ @livasaurasrex​​ @ham4arrow​​​@hiscyarika​​​​ @plexflexico​​​​ @readsalot73​​​​ @hdlynn​​​​ @lokiaddicted​​​ @randomness501​​​@fioccodineveautunnale​​​​​ @roxypeanut​​​ @just-add-butter​​​ @snivellusim​​

Maybe Josie had been a fluke. 

Your doctor had given you a full bill of health — both times you visited the doctor. There was no reason for why nothing had taken hold. Five months. Four negative tests. Four periods. Even Javier had visited the doctor, just to make sure his swimmers were in working order. They were. Everything was right and yet…

You swallowed thickly as you pushed the bathroom door open, eyes lowered to the floor as you shook your head. Another unsuccessful month had slipped by. 

“C’mere.” Javier murmured, holding his hand out and gesturing for you to join him at the foot of the bed. “It’ll happen.” He reassured you. 

“Yeah.” You almost wished you hadn’t decided you were ready to try. To actually plan on having another kid. 

Javier curled his arm around your waist, drawing you into his side. “It’s okay baby.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

“I just thought that this time…” You shifted, laying back on the bed and bringing him down with you. You stared up at the ceiling, brows furrowed. “I was two days late and I was certain.”

“I know.” He slid his arm out from under you, rolling onto his side. You could feel his eyes on your face, “Hey.”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes. “Hmm?”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It’s neither of our faults.” You said a little quickly. You were both healthy, but you were the one that wasn’t pregnant. You had been so certain this time around. For a fleeting few days you had felt different. Maybe you had been, maybe it ended before it even began.

“We’ll just keep trying.” Javier draped his arm over your middle, giving your waist a reassuring squeeze. “If you want to.”

“I do.” You sighed heavily. “I just didn’t realize how hard it was going to be.” Your eyes drifted back up to the ceiling. Josie had been easy — one night was all it took to give life to a beautiful baby girl. Sure, it had been sheer hell, but she had been easy. 

This time, you were actually trying and nothing was working. 

“I’ll go back over the calendars the doctor gave us. Maybe we’re off by a day.” You scrubbed your hands over your face, before you looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you haven’t got a damn thing to apologize for.” He cupped her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the rise of your cheekbone. “And as much as it pains me to leave you right now…”

“Get to work, Professor.” You teased, trying to put on the emotions you would rather be feeling. You were depressed. But you didn’t want to ruin his first day back in the job force. 

“I am just a teacher.” Javier countered, “And it’s just orientation.”

You curled your fingers around his tie, pulling him in closer so you could kiss him. “But Professor sounds sexy.”

Javier bumped his nose against yours. “I love you.” He whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Are you going in today?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully. “Probably. It would be a nice distraction.” You forced yourself to smile. You needed the distraction, otherwise you’d spend the day in sweatpants with a bottle of wine trying to forget your inadequacies. 

“I’ll pick up dinner on the way home so you won’t have to worry.” Javier told you as he pulled back, straightening his tie. “Pizza?”

“Sounds nice.” You nodded, peeling yourself off the bed. “Good luck today, Javi.”

“Thanks baby.” He murmured and you could feel his eyes on you as you moved around the bed room to get ready for work. You knew he was hurting too — maybe not the same way as you were. But he wanted this baby as badly as you did. Each month that slipped by killed you. At one point in your life you had prayed for a negative test, but now it was all you saw.  

——

Your 1 PM meeting took you by surprise. Not the meeting itself; but the person leaving the meeting ahead of yours. 

“Lance Collier.” You remarked, stopping dead in your tracks. “What are you doing here.”

He held his hand out to shake yours, “Working with the local law enforcement on a case. How the hell have you been?”

“I actually have a meeting.” You glanced at your wristwatch. “It’ll be about forty five minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Great.” Lance nodded. “Hope they don’t bore you to death.” 

“Chances are slim.” You quipped, before you headed into the conference room. He certainly was a welcome distraction from the thoughts weighing on your mind. And one of the last people you expected to see from your time in Colombia. Second maybe only to Chris. 

 ——

It was surreal to have Lance Collier standing in your little office with an obscured view of Dodge Island. The last time you had seen him was the night you broke up with him and promised to call him in a week or two. You hadn’t. 

“Niece?” Lance questioned, nodding to a picture of Josie you had framed on your desk. 

“Daughter.”

His brows shot upwards, “Wow. When did that happen?” You couldn’t exactly blame him for being surprised. He’d actually mentioned having kids with you when you dated and you had been pretty against the idea. You had a whole career you were building. 

“She was born in ‘93.” 

“And who’s the lucky father?”

You arched a brow, “Would you believe me if I told you I’m with Javier.” You turned one of the pictures on your desk towards him — a family shot Connie had taken for you in their backyard at Easter. Josie was clutching a stuffed rabbit, nestled in between you and Javier. 

Lance’s jaw dropped. “Peña? What the hell did I miss after I left Colombia? I figured you must’ve moved on — you never called.”

You grimaced. “It didn’t feel fair to string you along, Lance. It’s not like I moved on to Javi right after we broke up. Far from it, actually. I just wasn’t—“

“There’s no hard feelings.” Lance cut you off. “I’m getting married next month.”

“Oh, wow! Congratulations.” You smiled at him. ”So what has the CIA poking around here?”

“Clearing up soon loose ends from Medellín. We received intel that La Oficina de Envigado was laundering money out of Miami. Due diligence, really.” He lowered his voice, pointing at Josie’s pictures. “Is she why you’re persona non grata with DEA? I was down at the embassy a year ago and—“ He whistled as he shook his head. “They’re not fond of you.” 

You shrugged a shoulder. “Javi and I lied about our relationship for a year. I was already on thin ice for being pregnant and…” You made a face. “Straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Jeeze, I’m sorry.” He gestured around the office. “But check this place out.”

You laughed. “Yeah, who knew Miami had the budget to give consultants offices with windows?”

Lance shook his head, staring at the family picture on your desk. “I can’t say I’m surprised, but… I just can’t picture Peña as a father.”

“He’s amazing.” You told him, your eyes drawn to the picture. “Josie is a complete daddy’s girl.” You glanced back at Lance then, “What do you mean you’re not surprised?”

He gave you a look. “Do you remember the first time you brought me along to drinks with him and Steve?” You nodded. “I realized pretty quickly that night that he was my competition.” 

“Really?” Your brows furrowed together. “I just remember him being a dick that night.” Then again, he always got pissy whenever Lance turned up with you. 

He was going to lose his shit knowing that Lance was in town. 

“I’m glad you’re happy.” Lance told you with a genuine smile. “That’s all I wanted for you.” 

“Thank you.” You sank back in your seat, “I mean, look at us. You’re getting married next month and I’ve got a family.” 

“With Javier Peña no less.” 

A laugh bubbled out of you, “Right? I’m still waiting for the pigs to fly.” 

“Any wedding bells in your future?”

“Not our thing.” You shook your head, “But we’re good. He’s started teaching a criminal justice course at the university. I’ve got this.” You gestured to your office. “Life is good. Miami was the right move for us.” 

Lance pursed his lips and nodded in agreement. “You deserve it.” He glanced towards your office door, “I should probably get going. I’ve got a deposition to sit in on later.” 

“It was good to see you Lance.” You offered with a warm smile, watching him leave. Once upon a time you probably would’ve settled for him. But there was nothing about Lance that made your heart skip a beat — even back then. That would’ve been an easy path. Everything with Javier had been difficult. It still was difficult. 

But all that difficulty made the quiet moments worth it. The uphill battle was justified every time Josie roped Javier into wearing a princess crown and attending tea at her make believe restaurant. 

You couldn’t imagine a life where you didn’t have both of them. And maybe it was okay that you weren’t having any luck. Maybe it was meant to be just the three of you.  

———

“I don’t know why we bother trying to expand her dietary options,” You remarked as you picked a piece of cut up pizza off her abandoned plate as you took it to the trash to throw away. “She’s always going to just want chicken nuggets.” 

“In futile hope that she’ll kick her chicken addiction.” Javier remarked from the living room, where he was fastforwarding through the trailers on the VHS he’d rented. Four Weddings and a Funeral seemed like the right kind of movie to unwind to. 

You grabbed two beers out of the fridge, gripping them in one hand as you snatched up the pizza box off the counter and headed into the living room to join him. “I wish it were that easy. I think she’s hooked, Javi. Our baby’s a chicken addict.”

Javier looked back at you over his shoulder, a grin spreading over his lips. “Guess there’s worse things she could be hooked on.” He settled down onto the sofa, loosening his tie. “I’ve got a full class. I guess everyone wants to meet the guy who helped bring down Pablo Escobar.” He swept his fingers through his hair, before taking a beer from you.

“They’re going to love you.” You said as you took a swig of beer before sitting it down on the coffee table. “You’ll never guess who I saw today.” 

“Who?” His brows drew together. 

“Lance.”

Javier huffed, “Really?”

You nodded, leaning back on the sofa. “He’s still chasing down money launders from Escobar’s predecessors.” You explained. “Still a CIA suit.”

Javier gave you a wary look, before he leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza. “That’s good.” He said before taking a bite.

You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip, heart pounding a little quicker as you stared at him. “Are you going to be an asshole about this?”

“No.”

“Our entire conversation basically revolved around you.” You told him, lips drawn into a faint smile. “It was a nice distraction from everything else.”

Javier grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “I’m not going to be an asshole about this, but I just never liked the guy.”

“I know.” You reached out and stroked his cheek, before sliding your fingers into his hair. “He wasn’t surprised that I was with you.”

His jaw rocked tensely before he relaxed under your touch. “What? Did he tell you about the time I pulled him aside and told him he better take care of you?” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth.

You shook your head and tilted your face to look up at him. “When did you—“

“You had just started seeing him.”

“Well, that explains everything.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You could easily picture Javier pulling that shit. He had been in fine form that evening from the second that Lance sat down at the table. It was a miracle it hadn’t run the poor man off then and there. You had a sneaking suspicion that he had said a lot more than just ‘take care of her’. Everything had been so new back then — Colombia, Javier and Steve, your outlook on the future. Maybe things didn’t turn out how you had planned, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

Javier gave your shoulder three little squeezes, pulling you in close to his side. “Is he going to be around for awhile?” He questioned as he picked up the remote with his free hand, loosely holding onto it.

“I didn’t ask, but probably not.” You reached out and took the remote out of his hand, sitting it aside. “We should talk about this morning. 

He exhaled heavily, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’d planned for us to talk about everything but that.” 

A nervous laugh escaped you as you interlaced your fingers with his. “I know.” You swallowed thickly. “It’s not bad… it’s just—” You squeezed his hand tightly. “I think we should try for another month and then I think it’s time to accept that it’s just the three of us.” 

Javier lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “The three of us are perfect, baby.” 

“Yeah.” You whispered, sinking into his side feeling defeated. You wished you could make it happen. That tomorrow you’d magically wake up pregnant. The thought of both of you being able to enjoy this from the start seemed like a vain wish now. “Are you excited to start teaching?”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, “I met a couple of the students this afternoon and they seem keen. We’ll see.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “They even gave me an office with a window.”

“We both ended up with windows,” You mused.

Javier chuckled. “I wanna bring you and Josie by later this week so you can see it.” 

“That reminds me.” You squeezed his hand before you got up off the sofa. You headed down the hallway to the bedroom to get the gift you’d wrapped and hidden on your side of the closet. You returned, holding it out to him. “I meant to give this to you this morning, but…”

Javier took the parcel from you, unwrapping it slowly. “Baby, you shouldn’t have.” 

You had taken the negatives of the photos from Colombia and had duplicates made to be framed. Four photos that captured so many memories from that era of your lives. Josie resting on Javier’s chest, both of them fast asleep a few days after you had brought her home; you and Javier kissing, a slightly blurry photo you’d relied on the timer for; Josie’s first bath; and a photo of the three of you when Josie was still so tiny. 

“I thought you might like taking us to work with you.” You smiled at him as you settled down onto the sofa beside him. 

“Maybe we should stop now.” Javier suggested as he looked up at you. “I hate how much this is stressing you out, baby.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Maybe we can just try to see if it’ll happen naturally.” You still weren’t ready to call it quits. Not entirely. 

He nodded his head, staring down at the frame. “We’re good as three, aren’t we?” 

“We are.” You leaned into his side. Part of you regretted that you had started this whole endeavor. You had thought it would be easy, free of heartache. But you had been wrong. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was the planning and the stress that was causing it to fail. 

[himbowelsh]

winnix/ amnesia?

a little fall of meme can hardly hurt me now  ( no longer accepting )

His footsteps echo through the long corridor. They ring out discordant somehow, as though Dick’s practical Oxfords were not made for polished marble floors. To be fair, they weren’t. This place  ---  this swaggering mansion, with it’s high ceilings and plated glass windows, modern fixings and furniture dating back to the last century  ---  is not made for him. In the lap of luxury, Dick is an outsider. Never has that fact felt so painfully obvious.

The monochrome walls leer at him. Dick squirms in his own skin. Were he not accustomed by now to impossible situations, he might not be able to keep going, off-key footsteps carrying him all the way to the room at the end of the hall. The heavy oak door is closed, but he has seen behind it plenty of times before; he knows just where the dresser is, the position of the bed, the heavy curtains and cluttered desk by the window. 

The difference those times was that he was invited. With Nix beside him, leading him in, he never felt like a stranger.

Now, what else could he be called?

He raps firmly on the door — because even if Nix always professed a “personal disdain for knocking”, that was only ever an excuse to not do it himself — and waits. After too long a moment, he hears it. Behind the door, someone shifts; a bed frame creaks; and over the silence, a rough voice calls, “Come in.”

Dick forces a deep breath, and opens the door.

The room is dark, curtains drawn — the better for his head, the doctors explained. It’s sweltering outside, but Nix’s bedroom, like the entire Nixon estate, is air conditioned. His bedclothes are rumpled. A set of silk slippers sit on the floor, ignored. Instead of the usual chaos, Nix’s heavy oak desk is clear; it’s only decorations are a bottle of white pills, and a rubber ice pack, long since lost its chill. The doctors left fresh bandages, some ointment, and more equipment for their next visit… but until then, the patient’s been left to recover alone.

That’s what drove Dick in here, against doctor’s orders: the thought of Nix sitting alone in the dark, aching and confused. When he was a child, Dick would fall prey to the inevitable winter flus and summer fevers, like all active kids; his mother never left his side for a moment. Nix’s mother isn’t even in the country, and his father… isn’t the ‘vigil by a bedside’ sort.

Whatever Dick expects to find in this lonely room, he still ends up surprised.

Nix is awake and sitting up — against doctor’s orders, certainly — with a glass of water in one hand and a fistful of blanket in the other. His posture is casual, almost bored. He stirs in bed just enough to swallow without choking, then sits up a bit straighter, cradling the glass like a finger full of scotch. It’s impossible not to notice the stark white bandage twined around his head, the exhaustion lining his face, or the dullness in his eyes… but besides that, he looks remarkably Nix-like. Exactly the opposite of what Dick expected, and so familiar that it hurts.

Lew takes one look at him, up and down, before settling back in bed. “Let me guess — executor of the will?”

Dick blinks, ignoring how the words twist in his gut. “No.”

“Sorry. You just… look like the sort of guy who’d show up a few decades too early.” He waves his hand, gaze meandering out the window as though there were a movie playing out in the front lawn, far more interesting than anything right in front of him. “Or a few days. Who knows? Head injuries — tricky things.”

Dick remembers the plink of a bullet bouncing off a metal helmet in Holland, the way his friend fell; he remembers the tiny bruise on Lew’s forehead, the way his eyes were so dark and so wide as he looked up at him. “I’m alright! Am I alright?”

“Quit looking at me like that,” Lew says out loud, jarring Dick from his thoughts like a lightning strike. “If you’re not a lawyer, and you’re not a doctor…” No Nixon-employed physician shows up empty-handed, Dick supposes. “Who are you? A compassionate well-wisher?”

“You… could say that.” The words taste sour in his throat. Dick wants to vomit, swallowing back sour bile as it rises in his throat. “I do wish you well, L— Nixon. Mister… Captain Nixon.”

“Wow. Going through the whole cycle, there.” The amusement in Nix’s eyes lingers for a moment, chasing away that dull listlessness… but it returns a moment later, like pain radiating from a fresh wound. “I’m a Captain?”

Dick has to clear his throat before he can answer. “You are. I had the honor of serving beside you in Europe… through Normandy, Holland, and Bastogne.” He lets the words linger for a moment, as though they could possibly jog some shadows of memory. Nix’s face remains blank, though, brows knit and scrutinizing. If there were any flicker of recognition there, Dick would catch it; but there’s nothing at all.

“What’s your name?” Nix finally asks, in the same tone he did in OCS school, so many years ago.

“Richard Winters,” Dick answers, in that same familiar voice.

“What do your friends call you? Dick?”

You do, Dick thinks, but doesn’t say so. “Yeah.”

“Nice to meet you, Dick.” Like a balloon hit with a pin, Nix’s tone has gone suddenly flat. “Or — meet you again, I guess. Sorry I can’t offer you some hors d'oeuvres, or a nice drink…” He gestures around at the messy bed, the chaotic room. “You’ve caught me in-between dinner and supper at the moment.”

“It’s fine. I don’t drink anyway.”

“One of those? Huh,” Nix says, without a hint of judgement. The exact same wording, in the exact same tone. Dick remembers this conversation; he could cite every line as though their first meeting were yesterday, instead of lifetimes ago. However much they’ve both changed, some things have still stayed the same.

Then a shadow passes over Nix’s face, gaze wandering, and Dick is forcibly reminded that this is not the same conversation at all. “Guess I oughta know that, huh?”

“It’s okay.” He isn’t used to feeling so uneasy in Nix’s presence. Where any other day he’d find a chair and sit in it, now Dick just stands at attention, shifting his shoulders to relieve some discomfort. “You’ll remember.”

Nix holds his gaze for a long moment. His eyes are impossibly dark; one is shadowed, almost from an injury. When he fell, he hit the train tracks hard; if his head could bounce off steel, it’s not inconceivable to think he might have bruised other things on the way down.

“So, Dick,” he finally says, in a tone that’s just too casual. “Tell me… how bad is it?” When Dick’s brows shoot up, Nix just regards him, unflinching. “They say it isn’t good, but they won’t tell me exactly how bad. Given my raging headache, and the fact that I didn’t recognize my own sister…” He swallows, and his throat bobs with it. “I’m gonna guess it’s really bad. So… give it to me straight, won’t you?”

Dick hesitates, breath stalling in his chest for an agonizingly long moment. There’s no right answer; there’s no way to go from here that won’t bruise Nix even more. If the Nixon family have decided to keep him in the dark until his memory returns — if it returns, that horrible, omnipresent if — who is Dick to contradict them?

Nix’s friend, that’s who. Even if he might not remember it. If Nix didn’t trust him to give the truth, he’d never have asked.

At last, Dick heaves a sigh, lowering his head just enough to not look the other man straight in the eye. “Do you remember Normandy, Nix?”

His blank expression doesn’t change.

“Do you remember OCS? Sobel? The paratroops?” At each question, shot out like individual bullets, Nix doesn’t falter. There’s no spark of recognition, no sudden lightness of memory, and desperation clamps like a vice around Dick’s heart. “German liquor, this little Irish guy named Harry, my footlocker… the lake in Austria…”

Nothing. Nothing at all.

He didn’t really expect otherwise, but it still feels like his heart’s been torn from his chest.

“Sounds like I missed quite a party,” Nix remarks, his voice flat. He doesn’t try to meet Dick’s eyes again. “How many years?”

Dick swallows. “What’s the last thing you do remember?”

“I remember school — not Officer’s School. Little place called Yale.”

Six years, at least. “You’ve… missed a lot, Nix.”

He looks up suddenly, seizing Dick with his gaze like a hand around his throat. Dick is left helpless in the face of Lewis Nixon’s stare. “That’s what you call me, huh?” As always, his words have a way of burrowing under your skin, getting straight into your nerve and bone. “I call you Dick, and you call me Nix. How about that?”

“How about it,” Dick agrees.

“We must be pretty good friends.”

“Yeah,” Dick replies, tasting something bitter in his throat again. “We are.”

A curious resignation lingers in Nix’s eyes as he slumps back against the pillows once more. Dick doesn’t know what to make of it, but it leaves him feeling tired, and very, very alone.

“Who knows? It’s a long life. Maybe we’ll do it all again sometime.”

Nix doesn't remember, doesn’t know, and can’t imagine. A part of Dick — the part that has seen his friend’s hollow-eyed stares, watched his hand tighten more and more around the mouth of a bottle — is almost glad.

“Yeah,” he mutters, summoning a soft smile for Nix’s benefit. “You never know. Maybe we will.”

[jilyyall]

Animal Magnetism - Ch 2. Jacob Black.

Edward Cullen was not a normal teenager; of that I was certain. But knowing that did nothing to stop the pull I felt towards him. And if what he was saying was any indication, he felt some strange pull towards me, too. It was like we were magnets struggling against hope to stay apart. I only wondered what would happen when we inevitably collided.

Chapter 2. Jacob Black. Fanfiction.net / AO3 Intro/1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/

"Are there any cute boys in Forks?"

I made a face at my phone and had the benefit of watching my best friend Madison laugh at me. It was Friday, which made it a whole entire week since Renee and I had shipped out from Phoenix to Forks.

She clearly took my reaction to mean that there weren't any cute boys around but, in all honesty, a certain face came to mind at her question. Edward Cullen, who had looked ready to murder me at lunch on Monday, wasn't in school for the rest of the week. I was beginning to think he had transferred out, but I figured something like that wouldn't stay secret for long in a town this small. His siblings were all at school every day, sitting at that same lunch table. I knew because I had made a habit of checking. Purely for my own physical wellbeing, I tried to tell myself. Because I needed to know if I was going to have to spend Biology next to a boy who hated me for no reason.

In reality, I just wanted to see him. There was something about him… I looked at the eerily lifelike sketch of his face I had made on my Government syllabus on that first day. He was beautiful. He was alluring. Apparently, he wanted to kill me. I wanted only to see if that was true. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was just a normal boy who had gotten ill and left school early and was still recovering. His father was a doctor… maybe he was just a very thorough doctor.

"Hello? Bella?" Madison sang, drawing out the words in a pretty, taunting melody. "Don't tell me you're already crushing on someone."

"No!" I insisted, my face going bright red. "I was just thinking… there are a couple guys at school who I think like me."

"Nice. And which one will you be dating?" she asked.

"None of them!" I laughed just picturing it. "There's this guy named Mike… super boyish looks… blond hair, blue eyes… he's pretty popular. I don't know, maybe he's kind of cute… not my type. Anyway, this girl Jessica, I guess we're kind of friends now… she's half in love with him. He keeps walking me to class and going out of his way to talk to me and be on my team in Gym."

"Wow, he really does like you if he's willing to put himself in harm's way just to be near you," she snickered.

I ignored her, and quickly continued. "Every time he comes to talk to me, I bring the conversation around to Jess. If she's around, I try to just shove them together."

"Ultimate wing woman, as ever," Madison said with a giggle.

"Speaking of, how's Conner?" I asked. Conner was a good friend of mine back in Phoenix. His best friend Dylan was dating Alana, one of the girls we hung out with and at first they had tried to set me up with Conner, but there was nothing there but friendship. My last few months in Phoenix, I was working on getting Conner to ask out Madison, who thought he was really cute.

"Oh, you know… we're going out tomorrow," she said nonchalantly.

I gaped at her. "Wow. Way to bury the lead."

"I know! I've been choking it back ever since you called!" she squealed.

"When did he ask you?" I said.

"Yesterday!" Even if I couldn't hear the excitement in her voice, it was plain as day on her face. "I wanted to call you right away, but I decided to let it marinate."

"Wow," I said. "That's great."

"Bella, what's wrong?" Madison reined in her excitement with some effort, to study my face closely.

"I just miss you guys," I said with a weak smile. "I miss the sun."

"Even though it burns the crap out of you in three seconds?" She said, referencing the reason for my alabaster skin.

"It's better than being wet constantly," I grumbled.

"Well, at least it sounds like you're making friends!" Madison said, trying to cheer me up. "Hey, who's the other guy?"

My mind immediately went to my mysterious, handsome Biology lab partner, who I had yet to actually meet, but I knew she couldn't be talking about him. "What other guy?"

"You said there were two boys who liked you, but you only mentioned Mike," Madison said.

"Oh. Well, there's this other guy named Eric. We only have one class together, and lunch. He and Mike are friends… only the kind of friends who seem like they hate each other half the time? I don't even really sit near him in English, but he always tries to walk with me to class, and then he started sitting with us at lunch on Wednesday," I told her.

"Is he cute?" Madison asked.

"He's uh… Well, Eric is very… nice. He's a very nice guy," I said diplomatically, but Madison laughed, clearly understanding that I meant no, Eric is not cute. At least, not in my opinion.

"Bells!" Charlie called loudly up the stairs. "Billy and Jacob will be here soon!"

"Do you have to go?" Madison asked, pouting.

"I guess so. Sorry," I smiled sadly. "Dad's friend and his son are coming over."

"Ooh, cute son?" Madison asked.

"Mads!" I laughed, shaking my head. "There are more important things than cute boys!"

"That has yet to be proven," Madison said primly, then raised an expectant eyebrow. "Is he?"

"Um. I haven't seen Jacob Black since we were both kids, so how would I know?" I said, and then frowned. "I think he's only fifteen."

"What's two years, if the boy is cute?" Madison said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Bella!" Renee called.

"Go," Madison said. "I have to start getting ready anyway."

"I thought your date was tomorrow."

"It is," she said, and I could see that she was standing up from her bed now, starting to move around her room. "We're all going to that state fair tonight, remember?"

I did remember. It had originally been my idea to all go together as a group. Then my parents had sprung the move on me. I forced myself to smile by the time Madison turned her attention back to me.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Have fun!"

I could see by her frown that I hadn't fooled her. "Bella…"

"I should go before my parents yell at me again!" I said. "I'll talk to you later!"

With the click of a button, her face disappeared from my screen. Suddenly, I was feeling more depressed than ever about this move. All of my friends back in Phoenix were going off tonight to have fun at the fair that I had wanted to go to.

"Bella!" Renee called from just outside my door. "If you're not down here in five minutes…"

I tossed my phone on the bed and crossed my room to fling the door open before my mother could think of a suitable threat. It probably would have been another generic 'you will regret it' anyway.

"Oh, honey," she said, her expression fading from stern to sympathetic when she saw my face. "What happened?"

"We moved to Forks," I said, trying for deadpan, but even I could hear the slight venom in my tone. Knowing I should apologize and explain myself, but not really wanting to, I slipped past Renee and down the stairs.

Jacob Black, as it turned out, was a pretty cool kid. He lived with his dad, Billy, down in La Push on the Quileute Reservation. Billy was one of the tribe elders, and he was also Charlie's best friend. Apparently, they used to go fishing a lot, but as far as I could tell, this was the first time they had gotten together in a while.

Jacob was nice, and sweet, and effortlessly funny. He acted like we were old friends instead of two teens thrust together by their fathers. Really, we kind of were old friends, but when you hadn't seen a guy since we was eleven and you were thirteen and your clearest memory of him was the two of you making mud pies together, you could be forgiven for thinking the reunion could be a little awkward.

"Hey, Jacob?" I said.

We were washing dishes together after dinner while our parents were catching up in the living room with a few cans of beer.

"Yeah?" he asked.

He was two years younger than me, but he was maybe an inch or so taller than me, and his thick black hair about as long as mine and hung in a long, straight ponytail down his back; the end of it swished as he moved around the kitchen putting away dishes after I'd washed and he'd dried them.

"How come Billy and my dad haven't seen each other in a while?" I asked.

"Caught that, did you?" he said with an embarrassed laugh. He sighed and shook his head when I only nodded and watched him expectantly. "Well, it's kind of a weird story."

"I can handle weird," I said, more curious than ever.

"Ah. Well, have you met the Cullens yet?" he asked as he rearranged the dishes in a cabinet so that he could fit another bowl. "They're a family who moved here a couple years ago."

"Yeah, I know them. Well, sort of. I go to school with the kids," I said awkwardly, wondering why everything had to circle back to Edward Cullen. "Haven't actually met them yet."

"Well. There's this legend. Down on the Res," he said haltingly. "It's stupid, I'm not supposed to talk about it."

I saw that the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were flushed and considered. Was this yet another boy who might like me? Or was this just a kid embarrassed by his tribe's superstition?

"I can keep a secret," I said, trying for the flirtatious tone that Sasha, a friend of Madison's, used often to get boys to do her bidding. It sounded awkward on my lips, forced and unnatural and horribly fake, but Jacob turned to me with slightly wide eyes. I looked back down at what my hands were doing in the soapy water, partly to hide my face from Jacob and also partly so that I didn't accidentally cut myself or break anything.

"Okay, well… the Cullens just don't have a very good reputation down on the Res," he said carefully. I could tell he was leaving something out, but I didn't trust myself to be able to pull off that flirtatious tone again. "People think they're strange."

"Well, can't argue with that," I said quietly. I dried my hands when I was finished washing the dishes, and leaned against the counter to watch Jacob finish drying and putting them away. "But what does that have to do with Billy and my dad?"

"Well, I guess my dad warned Charlie about them," Jacob said slowly, and I got the feeling he was measuring each word carefully. "Said they might be dangerous, and that he ought to keep an eye on them."

"Are they dangerous?" I whispered, thinking of Edward's murderous black glare and unprovoked hatred.

Jacob shrugged and shot me a pained grimace. "I don't know, Bella. Not in Charlie's opinion, and he's police chief, so it's his job to know if someone's dangerous."

"Jake, you ready to go?" Billy said from the doorway. I could tell by the way he was looking at us from his wheelchair that he had heard enough of our conversation to think his son had already said too much.

"Sure, sure," Jacob said, hurriedly putting away the last plate. I could see that he knew his father had caught him, but he didn't seem too worried about it as he smiled at me and said goodnight.

"Don't be a stranger, Billy," Renee said, leaning into Charlie's side when he wrapped his arm around her on the front porch. "And you, Jacob. You're welcome over for dinner anytime."

"Thanks, Mrs. Swan," Jacob grinned.

"Renee," she corrected.

"Careful what you offer. Jake here could eat a whole horse," Billy warned as Jacob lifted him into the passenger's seat with more ease than any fifteen year-old should, and folded up his wheelchair to stow in the back of the car. Charlie pretended not to notice when Jacob climbed in behind the steering wheel.

"Yeah, well, maybe Jake needs to be careful too," Charlie joked. "Renee has a knack for making some really inedible meals."

I smirked at that, and Renee elbowed him in the side with a scoff. He was right; Renee couldn't cook to save her life. Jacob and Billy only laughed and drove away as we waved them off.

The weekend passed slowly. Renee and Charlie went into town to look at a few properties to rent that Renee could use as an art studio on Saturday because there wasn't any room in our house for her to work. I spent much of the day texting my friends in Phoenix, and catching up on some reading for English. On Sunday, I woke up to a phone call from Madison, who wanted to walk me through her date with Conner. She went over every minute detail of the night, from her outfit to the cologne he was wearing, to the nervous kind of smile he sent her as he walked her to her door, right before he kissed her. After she finally let me off the phone, I texted Conner to congratulate him on finally taking my advice, and got back an emoji rolling his eyes in response.

And on Sunday afternoon, I headed out to the porch to see what the commotion was when I heard a monstrous rumbling outside. There, in the driveway sat a behemoth of a truck. It was red and solidly built, and in the driver's seat was Jacob Black. He jumped out quickly, probably so that Charlie couldn't actually see him behind the wheel again, though it was pretty clear who had driven as he went to retrieve the wheelchair from the bed of the truck and helped his dad out of the passenger's seat.

"Hey, Jacob, Billy. What's up?" I asked as my parents came to the door behind me.

"Bella," Charlie said, and he sounded excited. I glanced back at him over my shoulder to see him grinning at me. "This is your new truck."

"Loose interpretation of the word 'new,' Charlie," Jacob said, laughing, probably at the look of disbelief on my face.

He wasn't wrong. The truck was ancient, probably older than I was, and the paint job was nonexistent. It was red, sure, but so faded and uneven that it was almost pink in some spots, and a very light almost orange in others. And boy was it loud, but I didn't really care. It was a truck, and it was mine. It meant that I didn't have to get Renee to drive me to and from school every day, and I would never have to be dropped off in Charlie's police cruiser.

"Are you serious?" I asked. "You bought it for me?"

I knew that this was just one more thing to mark how permanent this move was, but I couldn't help but be excited. It would be nice to be able to drive myself to school every day. And I could go into town whenever I wanted, if I ever wanted. I could go to the grocery store for myself. I could even drive up to Seattle, just to get away from Forks for a day.

"Yes, Bella, it's yours," Renee said. When I turned around, she was beaming and I knew it was because it was the first time she'd seen me smile since we came to Forks. I didn't think twice as I hugged my parents, thanking them profusely, before I ran down the walkway to inspect. I slipped when my foot hit the concrete and Jacob caught me, very gallantly deciding not to tease me as he began to give me a tour of the truck.

Before they left to head back to the Reservation with Charlie in his cruiser, Jacob warned me not take the truck over fifty. When I laughed, he told me he was serious.

"I rebuilt that engine. It's sturdy, but it will die if you drive over fifty," he reiterated.

"Good thing I know a good mechanic," I told him, and pretended to ignore his pleased flush.

On Monday, I drove my new truck to school, high on the freedom of being alone. I parked in front of a silver Volvo, by far the nicest car in the lot, and hopped cheerfully out of my truck. I wasn't even annoyed when Mike and Eric both walked with me to English, and joined in on their conversation about the weekend.

The day was smooth sailing until lunch.

I had just sat down with my tray of food at my usual table with all of my new friends when Jessica leaned over, her face right in front of Mike's, to hiss at me.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you."

I paused, my bottle of water halfway to my lips, and felt terror clawing in the pit of my stomach. "What?"

"He is," Mike confirmed, frowning. "I wonder why."

I was too much a coward to look, to confirm that he was back. After an entire week, I had gotten used to his absence. It was an absurd thing, really, to be used to the absence of someone I hadn't even met. But I knew who he was, and I knew that for some reason I couldn't grasp, he hated me. Fervently.

"Does he look mad?" I whispered.

Mike and Jessica gave me twin odd looks.

"No," Mike said slowly.

"Should he?" Jessica asked with a small, confused giggle. "I mean, how badly could you have offended him? You never even met him."

"Oh, yeah," Mike said. "He was out all last week. He's probably curious about the new girl."

His grin was teasing, and he waggled his eyebrows at me so I rolled my eyes if only because I knew I should react in some way.

"He's still staring," Jessica informed us a few minutes later.

Mike went sullen again, and stopped in the middle of what I was sure was an inflated story about the last time he went surfing. When he looked in the direction of the table I knew the Cullens occupied every day, I rammed an elbow in his side none-too-gently.

"Stop looking at him!" I hissed at them both.

Jessica giggled at my reaction, but did as I asked, her gaze dropping to the table. Mike frowned, clearly not liking that another boy was giving me attention, or that I was so affected by it. I saw the moment Jessica noticed Mike's mood: the smirk slid off her face and she propped her chin up on her fist as she pushed a pile of corn indolently around her plate.

I sighed, and pushed back my chair. I didn't have the energy for this. "I'll see you guys later," I said, and walked away.

I was dreading going to Biology and having to endure the most uncomfortable hour of my life with Edward Cullen for a lab partner. Idly, I wandered the school. Lunch had only just begun, so I had a lot of time to kill. I stopped when I came to a building I'd never been in. I didn't have any classes in Building two; I didn't even know what kind of classes were held here.

Curious, I pushed open the door and walked down the hall. I peeked in the door of the first room I passed and saw a few easels set up with paint still drying on canvas. So this building held art classes. It was comforting in a way, to be surrounded by all of the things that used to litter Renee's cramped little in-home studio back in Phoenix. I walked a little further down the hall until I came to another door. Peering inside, I was surprised to find that this was clearly the music classroom.

There was a piano in the front of the room, and several guitars and other various instruments in cases I couldn't identify. I was surprised that Forks High offered music classes; it seemed like a small town high school with only four hundred students wouldn't be the type of school to support the arts.

I stepped inside, cautiously glancing around to make sure there was no one in the room, and walked to the piano. I couldn't play very well. Aside from the embarrassingly basic Happy Birthday to You and Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, I only knew how to play a few notes. My mother enrolled me in classes back in Reno when I was about eight or nine. I made it through four lessons before I threw such a tantrum that she caved and allowed me to quit. She played a bit, but not very well. Better than me, at least. It was something that calmed her busy mind, she'd told me once. She bought a cheap, used upright when I was ten and used to sit and play poorly at night. I would tease her for her clumsy mishaps, but secretly I enjoyed sitting and listening to her play.

I sat on the bench and laid my fingers on the keys, splayed out as if I actually knew what I was doing. Quietly, I laughed to myself. What was I going to do? Play Happy Birthday? I shook my head and let my fingers smash a few keys at random, discordant notes filling the room for a split second.

A movement caught my eye and I looked up, embarrassed, ready to apologize to some teacher I hadn't met yet.

And my heart began to race when I saw him.

There, in the doorway was the bronze-haired boy from last week. Edward Cullen. I stared at him, wide-eyed, terrified, waiting to see that inexplicable hatred on his face. He stepped into the room, looked around cautiously and kept a safe distance between us. He didn't look angry. He looked confused and almost concerned.

"Hello," he said slowly. His voice was velvet on the air, soft and smooth and luxurious and as melodic as anything I'd ever heard.

Wordless, too afraid to speak, I nodded.

"I apologize. Am I interrupting?" He asked, standing rigid against the wall as far from me as he could be in this room. His guarded, almost pained expression did not match his dulcet tone.

"No," I said slowly, wondering why he was behaving so strangely.

He nodded his head and took several slow steps into the room, towards the piano and me. He looked poised to turn and flee even as he came to a halt so close to the piano that he could reach out and stroke the propped-up cover if he felt like.

The sudden return of my tension that his presence had wrought made me uncomfortable. I was sure my heart had never raced so fast. I was impossibly aware of every small movement of his body. I realized I was holding my breath, so forced myself to exhale. When I cleared my throat, he looked at me like he was concentrating really hard.

"I was just leaving," I lied.

His expression was almost completely neutral, but I sensed just the slightest edge of frustration in his gaze as he studied me. Finally, one corner of his mouth turned up, just slightly, as if he was forcing himself to smile at me. Heart pounding and hands trembling slightly, and trying to pretend I was completely unaffected by his presence, I stood, then bent to pick up the bag I'd dropped at my feet.

"Goodbye, Bella," he said as I walked carefully past him, willing myself not to trip over my own feet. I paused at the door and glanced over my shoulder. How did he know my name? Probably, I reasoned internally, he'd heard it from a classmate. He was already seated on the bench, right where I had just been, and his fingers began to move across the keys, slowly, tenderly, coaxing the most beautiful notes I had ever heard.

I looked at his face, wondering what I would see there. With a jolt, I realized he was watching me as he played, a small, accomplished smile on his lips. Flushing, I smiled weakly, and walked away.

FFN / AO3

[oceanquill]

‘Til Next Time (2/3?): Closer

Summary: Modern AU. In their next life, they meet again.

Part 2: Closer Sasuke and Sakura find themselves spending more time together.

For SasuSaku Month 2019 Day 22: Early Mornings Rating: T

Part 1 here

–

She's laying down on a bed, not quite asleep yet. Someone's hand is holding hers and she realizes the weight on her side is neither her blanket nor pillow. With half-lidded eyes she looks. There is a head nestled on her neck, and a leg entangled against her own, an arm over her waist. Their hands meet at the side of her hips, fingers playing with her own. She feels her chest rising and falling in steady rhythms. The hand starts caressing her arms, trailing up and down. The soothing motions lulls her, and she closes her eyes once more.

…Who are you?

Though she always sleeps alone (do I?), the sight of a fully-grown man against her doesn't startle her at all. Nor does she find it strange. She buries her face in the man's black hair.

I know you.

Still between sleep and waking, eyes shut, something soft touches her lips.

Then she wakes. Both in dream and in reality.

She sees the light on her ceiling. White and bright. She sits up. She is in her room. A room both strange and familiar. She rubs her eyes and scans her surroundings, but she is groggy and nothing registers except–

Her alarm blares suddenly, startling her.

She blushes at the memory (no, dream). She thinks she is too young to have such thoughts.

She is thirteen, and she dreams of him for the very first time. But as all dreams go, it was forgotten by the time she leaves her house.

It doesn't resurface until years later.

–

They were studying once again at their favorite library table by the window. It has a view of the school courtyard right outside. There are no tall buildings nor trees in that angle, offering them an unobstructed view of the landscape. Sasuke likes feeling the turning of the day. The colors of the sky are never the same, and the light always falls on Sakura differently each time, casting a distinct glow about her.

He admits to himself that he stares at her at times, but never deliberately. It starts out with him looking up at his notes to ask her a question. Then he sees her completely absorbed in her book, so focused, her eyes moving along with the words, sometimes followed by her index finger. Strands of pink hair softly fall from her shoulders, framing her face, usually she tucks them to her ear, when she doesn't, Sasuke feels the urge to do it for her. Then his gaze moves from her face to her hands.

At the moment, her fingers are tucked between the pages of yet another medical text. Her other hand though, he notes, is just resting on the table, her arm pressing at the edges of a book. Sasuke is suddenly made aware of the emptiness of his own hand. Subconsciously, he wonders what it would be like to take hers, to trace his fingers across her palm, and curling them between her own.

The question in his mind is lost.

"Sasuke-kun?"

He blinks, mentally shaking his head. "Yes?"

She smiles beautifully at him. "Want to call it a day?" She closes her book. "I'm beat." And as if to prove her point, she folds her arms and sinks onto the table, her chin resting on them.

He lowers his head too, nestling his jaw onto the folded wrist tucked at the crook of his neck.

"Lightweight," he teases.

"Mou!" she protests. "I know for a fact that I'm the most hardworking student in all of the school." She grins, confident in her declaration.

Sasuke lets out an amused breath. Before he can stop himself, his free hand moves across the table and two fingers poke her forehead. "Let's go home." He feels his lips curl.

Sakura raises her head from the table and puts a hand on her forehead. She closes her eyes and chuckles to herself.

Seeing this, something aches in Sasuke's chest. He stands up abruptly then, quickly gathering his things. There's something clawing at the back of his mind.

He checks his phone, and steals a glance at her. She's placing her books and notes inside her bag. Her brows are knitted, lips pouted slightly.

He knows that look. He has seen it enough times when there's something she doesn't understand. She would pore over her books and notes, working something out in her head.

She looks up at him and the look vanishes briefly, replaced with a small smile. He returns it and they fall into step together, walking silently out of the library. From the periphery of his vision, she adopts that expression again. She's looking for answers, he knows.

But to what?

–

Sakura opens her eyes, still half-asleep, and once again finds a man with dark hair nestled onto her side.

Without thinking, she tightens her hold on him.

I know you...

She closes her eyes again, wanting to sleep enveloped by his comfort, but she feels him shift. His weight now fully on top of her. He's heavy but she doesn't mind. She starts trailing her hand up and down his back.

A few moments pass and she feels something soft press onto her lips briefly. She opens her eyes wanting to look at him, but his face is nestled onto the right side of her own. The bridge of his nose touching hers. She feels his breath on her lips. His mouth at the corner of her own.

She moves her hand to his neck, running it through his hair, and one black eye peeks at her. Then his face shifts ever so slightly to kiss her fully, moving to capture the bottom of her lips. Instinctively, she opens her mouth to meet his tongue. The weight on top of her lightens slightly. His kiss trails from her mouth to her neck, and his hand slips underneath her shirt, touching her bare flesh, his palm grating on her skin. Her breath hitches.

The alarm blares and her eyes snap open.

She turns red at the memory. No, dream.

Sakura remembers having the same dream a long time ago. She brushed it off then, blaming her teenage hormones. She doesn’t think of it again until now, three years later. This time, she doesn't forget, since the dream often finds its way to her in the following months.

She dreams the same scenario repeatedly: she wakes up to find herself entangled with the same dark-haired man. Sometimes she's the one resting on top him, at other times they're leaning against a tree or sprawled onto the forest floor. But always it is the same dream, only in different variations of deep, wet kisses, of hands roaming, of skin touching skin...

She shakes her head, flustered. She has never had intimate relations with anyone, nor even thought of it. She doesn't even read romance novels. So where does her mind draw the sensation? It feels too real for it to be imagined, and it seems to be fixated on this dark, mysterious man. Despite her dreams being always set in the early morning, with the full force of sunlight illuminating everything, she has never seen his whole face–only one obsidian eye.

She puts a hand to her chest to calm her heart.

–

Haruno Mebuki regards her daughter carefully. She's dressed pretty simply: white fitted shirt, dark jeans, sneakers. Sakura was busy putting things in her backpack.

"Off to the library again?" It is a Saturday morning.

She nods. "I'm studying with Sasuke-kun today."

Mebuki's lips thins. "You've been spending a lot of time with that boy lately." She points out, fully expecting her daughter to get flustered by her implication.

But she only smiles, completely comfortable with her statement, not even pausing in the slightest.

Mebuki pushes, "It's a Saturday today. Don't you both have better things to do?" Her daughter laughs and replies in a playful tone, "Kaa-san aren't you happy I'm working so hard? Most parents would be lucky to have me as a daughter."

Mebuki chuckles at this. "Your father and I are proud of you, you know that."

"I'll make you even prouder when I become the first doctor in the family."

Her husband enters the kitchen, "Your mother and I are both doctors."

"Tou-san, you know I meant medical doctor!"

Kizashi howls in laughter and ruffles their daughter's pink hair. "Here's the book you were looking for." He hands her an introductory medical text, and Mebuki sees an opportunity to continue their previous topic.

"You know they're going to make you study this again in university, right?"

"Can't hurt to get an early start."

Mebuki gives her husband a meaningful look, and he catches it. He's wearing an impish expression now. "Library again, huh? Studying with that Uchiha boy today?"

"Uh-huh," she nods. Mebuki notes again that her daughter doesn't seem to be bothered by their silent accusations.

"Will you be back by dinner?"

"I always am."

Except that one time she had an impromptu dinner with the Uchihas, Mebuki thinks. They seem to be very taken with her, on an unbelievably unnatural level. She doesn't know how to feel about it. But she is quite sure that there must be a reason why she feels so wary of them. Call it mother's instinct. Hell, she wouldn't be able to raise the best daughter in the world if she didn't have that.

"Will they be driving you home, again?" Kizashi was asking in that teasing tone now.

Sakura crosses her arms playfully, raising a brow, "Too lazy to pick-up your own daughter, tou-san?"

Kizashi cackles. "Text me when you're done alright?"

Sakura hugs her father goodbye and walks towards her.

Mebuki hatches a plan. "Next weekend would you like to volunteer?" she asks. "It's in a new area so they need more experienced help in setting things up."

Her daughter perks up. "Where?"

Bingo.

"Still waiting for details. But I'll let them know you're signing up."

"Yes, please!" Sakura kisses her mother on the cheek. "I'll see you both tonight, okay?"

They watch their daughter exit the door. A few moments pass before Kizashi speaks, "This is what... their third library Saturdate?"

Mebuki scoffs. "It's not a date, dear." Her husband pulls up the chair beside her. "They're awfully close though."

"Maybe they're secretly dating." He guffaws at the thought. "But our Sakura isn't like that."

"She hasn't said anything at all?”

"Yesterday when I drove her to school I asked her if there's anyone she likes."

"And?"

"She said she's 'too busy studying and working on her dreams to have time for dates'."

"Liking someone does not mean dating."

"Ha. That's what I told her."

"What did she say?"

"She just laughed and said she can't afford the distraction."

"Hm." Mebuki believes her daughter completely. But there's just something she can't quite put her finger to.

"You think this Uchiha kid likes her?" Kizashi asks.

"Maybe. I've looked into his family, you know. His older brother was on a research team with Dr. Sarutobi before." She takes a sip from her cup and continues, "Nothing out of the ordinary. They're quite successful, the Uchihas."

"See?" Now Kizashi takes a sip from her cup of tea. "I told you you were just overthinking this. Sakura's smart enough to know who to associate with."

"Aren't you the least bit wary that she's spending way too much time with a boy?" She feels her blood rising now. Honestly, her husband can be so dense.

Kizashi just flashes her a smile which irritates her more. "Nothing wrong with too much studying."

"Bah! For all I know." She slams the cup on the table causing the centerpiece tremble.

She looks at her husband who doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. "I've seen the kid," he reveals.

She almost chokes on her tea. "When?! Kizashi, why have you not told me this!"

"I picked Sakura up from the library one night. Sasuke, his mom, and brother were there by the waiting area. They refused to leave Sakura alone, so they waited until I arrived."

"That's thoughtful of them." Maybe they're not so bad after– "Wait so this boy and Sakura also study together on weeknights?!"

He nods. "Seems so."

"Look, this can't be just friendly, you know?" Mebuki adds, "Sakura has never even had a close friend growing up and suddenly this kid she hasn't known very long..." she trails off and sighs.

He pours more tea into her cup. "I admit it does seem a little suspicious." He pushes the cup towards her and places a hand on her shoulder.

After a moment Mebuki continues, "Look. I'm happy that Sakura has a close friend her age that she likes hanging-out with, and she seems much happier recently. I was worried for her before because she just studies all the time or volunteers. And all her friends are always, what, five to ten years older than her?"

"She's quite mature for her age. Always has been." Kizashi laughs again. "It's so like her that the first close friend she has is because she likes studying with him."

"It better be just that."

"I trust our daughter. If there's something to tell, she will." He squeezes her shoulder reassuringly.

"That's what I'm worried about," Mebuki sighs again. "Maybe she doesn't know."

–

Sakura walks to the school library in slow, even steps, taking in the early morning summer air.

Her parents' interest in her relationship with Sasuke unsettles her a bit. Recently, she noticed, they have been trying to pry. It's like they wanted her to admit to something.

Truth be told, she's not quite sure what to make of her friendship with Sasuke. For the past couple of months, they settled into this comfortable routine of studying together. Not that it was deliberate. They just fell into it.

They always see each other in the school library, and ever since he showed her around school that first day they met, she gained a sense of deep respect for him. Normally, she wouldn't even bother saying hi to acquaintances. She's highly introverted that way. But for Sasuke, she thought it was only proper that she would give him some sort of acknowledgement every single time she saw him, and she always saw him in the library.

The study area wasn't very large, so their eyes always found each other. At first it was just a curt exchange of nods, a small wave of hands, then it grew into smiles. Well, a smile on her part. Sasuke would only nod still, but she swears she sees a glint of affection in his eyes.

Then one day, during exams week, she went to the library only to discover all the tables were taken. But Sasuke was there, and there was a free seat in front of him. Sakura didn't want to go to a café to study. She loved the library. The old book smell. The silence. The soft rumbling of airconditioning. And of course, unlimited access to books and research materials in every discipline. She decided then to walk over to him to ask if she can share his table. He made a motion with his hand telling her to go ahead.

She sat down in front of him, sprawling her notes and references on the table. She was a messy learner and liked having all her papers in front of her. But since she wasn't alone this time, she made an effort to be neater, to not take up any of his surface space, careful not to bother him with her presence. An hour later, another table freed up. Sakura tapped her pen to his book to get his attention. He looked up at her. She then jerked her head to the free space to her right, at the end of the room, by the window. The largest square table was there, it was her favorite spot to study at.

She started gathering her things, whispering to not disturb the peace. "I'll transfer there. Thank you, Sasuke-kun."

To her surprise, he also started arranging his notes. She looked at him, waiting for an explanation.

He whispered back, "Too cold here." He motioned towards the airconditioning unit behind him. "I'll come with you."

She smiled at the memory. That was the first time that not only were they in the same room, but they were also using the same table, seated diagonally across each other.

The week after that, she was surprised to find Sasuke in the library on a weekend. No other student were there. Just one of the librarians. She pulled up the chair beside him.

"Sakura?" he had sounded surprised.

She responded, "Can't concentrate at home too?"

She saw a ghost of a smile on his face. "Yeah..."

"Me too." She laughed a bit which earned them a shhh! from the librarian. Not that they were disturbing anyone. They had the whole place just to themselves.

She didn't think it would be a regular thing–them studying together. But the next time they were both at the library, Sasuke went to her table, said her name in greeting, sat down, and started reviewing. It happened two more times. Then at the fifth time she saw him, he was in the library before her. She didn't think of it, and just went to his table.

Soon after, she discovered that she found his presence so calming that it helped her focus. She remembered better, too. Studying then became an unspoken routine between them. Sakura always headed to the library after class. Sasuke would arrive later after his student council duties and make his way towards her. At other times, when Sakura was in a teacher's consultation, Sasuke would arrive first, and Sakura would find him eventually, then they would study in silence. At seven, either him or her would notice the time and they would walk together to the waiting shed and part ways until the next day.

They've been doing this for about three months. That's half the time she has known him–her now official study partner. Her heart warms at the thought.

After fifteen minutes of walking, Sakura arrives at the courtyard of their school and makes her way to the library. She sees Sasuke already seated at their favorite table–the one with the view. He spots her through the window so she waves and from afar, Sakura thinks she just saw Sasuke smile.

Except for that one dinner with his family, Sakura muses, they never saw each other outside of the classroom and the library. But that's where they already spend most of their time, which meant she saw a lot of him.

She pushes the entrance door to the library and Sasuke watches her as she approaches. She returns his gaze with a smile.

She considers him her closest friend which was strange since they haven't really talked much about personal things or deep-seated feelings. That's what close friends do, right?

"Sakura." He greets her in a low, quiet voice.  

She realizes that she hopes that would change.

–

Note: Okay so this is going a lot slower than I thought it would and I doubt I can wrap everything up by next chapter. We'll see!

To all those who liked, reblogged, commented. Thank you!

Special shout-out to @winnie09730499 and @birkastan2018 whose comments made me ridiculously happy. I hope this story shapes up to be something you will really enjoy! :)

Constructive criticism is very welcome! I wrestled with verb tenses on this one so I’m not quite sure if the timeline is clear enough.

[bigsnzstanacct]

Richie Robbins

Here’s my first, totally unfinished sneezefic. It’s all about loud sneezes, I haven’t edited it at all and tbh I found it on some random blog that had clearly grabbed stories from the forum bc I didn’t want to dig through all my old computer backups so ya know if it’s screwed up it’s not my fault.

As passionately as he desired to, he knew he wouldn't be able to evade it. It would come, as so many times before: unavoidable, uncontrollable, unstoppable. He closed his eyes, tilted back his head, let the itch like fire at the edges of his nostrils expand to set his whole nose ablaze with a tickle so strong, only a monstrous explosion could expel it. And monstrous explosions were his stock-in-trade.

"hehh...hehh...HEISSSHOOO!" he exploded. His stunned professor stopped her lecture, as the noise rang out through the huge lecture hall, waking up quite a few drowsy (hungover?) students. Flummoxed, she lost her place in her notes, as the boy sitting next to him, a jock, last name Stevens... first name he couldn't remember, muttered, "Nice one, Robbins. You planning to blow any houses down any time soon?"

Richard Robbins waited a moment before he replied, hoping to make sure the one great sneeze had been enough to expel the full magnitude of the tickly sensation in his nostrils. He sniffed before opening his mouth to reply, which was, as always, a huge mistake.

"Yeah, Ste-st... stevens... I... hah... I...iiegh...ieghhh..ihhh...ihhh..." He thought for a moment he'd gotten it under control, rushing a firm index finger to his quivering nostrils, but it was too little, too late: "Y-yeahhhh... ahhhKESHHHHHuuuhh. HEYY-SHEEUUUUEY!" Another of his roaring sneezes rang out through the room, again startling Doctor Renyolds, who had just managed to get herself composed enough to begin lecturing again. And the sneeze came with a brother, a great screaming affair which appeared to have erupted from the very depths of Richie's being, and, luckily enough, had carried with it sufficient force to finally blast out whatever was causing the terrible tickle in his nose.

"My!" Doctor Reynold's voice came, after only a few seconds, "Whoever has been exploding in my has thoroughly put me off my lecture. Were we speaking about Hamlet or 'The Waste Land'?"

Richie sank in his chair. He had hoped to avoid this, this time. All throughout high school he had been known as the school's sneeze factory, variously going by nicknames from Sneezy to Big Bad Wolf to Johnny Tsunami--that particular psudonym coming from a quite unfunny teacher--but in college, he had hoped to avoid being identified primarily by his nose.

Of course, when you had a nose as big as Richie's, it was rather difficult not to notice. It was nearly always the first thing people noticed about Richie, either because he was busy sneezing or because its moderately thin but hugely protruding shape, rather like a right triangle seen in profile, was the most commanding thing about his face. And his nostrils: they were great, wide, massive things, sucking up irritants with an unholy frequency, tickling with an unthinkable burning fury, exploding with almost unimaginable, messy force. There were times when he felt his older brothers' insistence upon calling his nose Mount Vesuvius was not wholly inaccurate.

Not that any of the men in Richie's family had room to complain about his sneezes. While Richie may have gotten a double portion, this was surely a family curse: when the six Ritchie men--three older siblings: Tristan, Adrian, and Sebastian, Richie himself, his little brother Max, and his father--were united in colds and allergies, it was a wonder Richie's mother hadn't gone deaf. All six of them complained of unusually strong itches that developed deep within their nostrils, which could only be expelled by their characteristically loud sneezes. Stifling or containing the sneezes would never do; it would only intensify the tickle--and the resulting sneezes--by several orders of magnitude.

No, there was little Richie could do in such a situation besides let himself sneeze and hope that no one would notice. Which, thus far, had never happened.

"Hey, Robbins," the jock queried, "should I send out the storm warning to little pigs?"

After class, Richie walked out onto the campus, on the way to his dorm room. He was hit full in the face by the bright September sun, and by his furious nasal tickling.

"Nodda... hiihhh... nodahhh... again... HEEEYY-SHEEUU! HISSHHH! ehh... ehhhSHIIEUUU!" He let the sneezes erupt into the open air, giving them free reign to bend him in half, three times, each sneeze bigger and louder than the previous, though, for Richie, they were comparatively light, more like minor aftershocks than the sneeze-quake itself. He wished these would've hit in the lecture hall, rather than the nuclear blasts he had actually let out.

"Well, you can't always get what you want..." Richie muttered to himself.

"But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you just might find...!" Sing-shouted Richie's best friend, Adam, who had, as ever, appeared behind him.

"How do you do that?" Richie asked, "Do you stalk men unawares in the night by custom? I'm beginning to think you're practicing to be Batman."

"Richie," Adam paused to say, mock-serious, "I am Batman. And even if I wasn't, I'd be able to locate those sneezes from halfway across the campus," laughed Adam. "But anyway, what's up?"

"Well, I exploded in the middle of my Poetry and Drama class, and I'm pretty sure Professor Reynolds hates me, but besides that, not much."

"Old Vesuvius come back to life? Well, no shock there. No offense dude, but your nose has been permanently set to stun since high school."

"Yeah, I've noticihhh... ihhhh... ihhyahhhhhhhAAESSHUUU!"

The pair began walking down the cobblestone path of the university, presumably towards the dorm rooms, then cut through the quad, where, of course, the flowers begot a huge tickle in Richie's nose. "Oh! W-waaahhh... ahhh..." He tried to get the tickle under control long enough to utter the phrase "watch out," but Adam had long since learned to gage when Richie was about to embark upon one of his voyages to a Byzantium of Richter-scale rocking sneezes, and had promptly set his fingers in his ears, got down on his knees, and, in a grand military manner, announced, "Cannons are aimed! Target has been acquired! Fire at will! Fire at will!!"

The fact that he had never, frankly, fired at will, passed quickly through Richie's mind before the sneeze washed over him, washing away all thoughts other than the sneezes, and all quiet in the quad: "yyeeaaaaaaHHHCHOOOOOOOSSSHHH"

Several stunned students turned around to locate the source of the booming noise, and Adam thought that he heard a "wow," somewhere in the distance. A few birds, it seemed, started from the trees. Adam wasn't even entirely sure that he had imagined the swaying he thought he saw in a few of the trees. There was no doubt about it: Richie could sneeze. Ever since they met in freshman year of high school, Adam had seen Richie's nose at the epicenter of a daily series of frightful detonations. This particular sneeze had been not only monstrously loud but torrentially wet, leading Adam to celebrate his decision to crouch at Richie's side; he did not want to get drenched, as he had been on more than one occasion. Ever since freshman year.

"Geez, Rich, you done?" Adam asked, after giving Richie a few seconds.

"SHEEEOOO!" Richie exploded, if possible, even louder.

"Guess not." he chuckled. After Richie (and Adam) felt sure that Richie's nose wasn't about to go nuclear again, Adam stood up, began walking, and quipped, "You know, I'm looking for a side-kick; before I swoop in and lock up the baddies, maybe I can get you to sneeze and blow 'em down!"

"Shut up, Adam." Richie joked, giving Adam a playful slap on the head, before the two rushed off trading barbs as they went.

—-

Richie reached the dormroom with comparatively few incidents, although he had to force himself more than once to obey his father’s favorite dictum: don’t stifle your sneezes. Don’t even try. Richie’d heard that particular sermon preached any number of times, along with his mother’s story: “When your father went on our first date, he tried to hold those things back, and when they finally came out”—“when she smothered her spaghetti in pepper,” his father would always interject—“I thought he was going to blow everything off the table! He sounded a little like you, actually, Richie.”

So, with his mother’s slightly nasally voice ever ringing in his ears, Richie forced himself to let out a series of noisy nasal explosions, in order to satiate his nose’s uncontrollable need for relief from its buzzing, burning, incredibly tickly itching sensations. Few people could imagine just how strong the tickles in Richie’s nose got; perhaps the only way to truly represent their magnitude was their own self-expression in his explosive sneezes. He felt fairly lucky that he'd only had to give in to three or four on his way back to the dorms, although the gaggle of women who had clearly bathed in perfume were less than joyous at the sudden, shocking explosion of elephantine nasal trumpeting which had suddenly erupted to their near right, and each had jumped at least a foot in the air, much to the amusement of Adam, who'd laughed almost as loudly as Richie had sneezed.

Adam and Richie had reached their dorm room, and were sitting about, not really doing anything, as college students are wont to do in lazy afternoons, after classes but before the dinner hours. Of course, they could have been studying, but who’d want to do that? Richie was busy plotting ways to avoid blasting the cafeteria during lunch (take an extra dose of Claritin, bring a handkerchief, and always avoid pepper like the plague), while Adam sat on the bed, debating with himself about whether or not to take a nap, when he felt a tickle invade his nose. Adam’s sneezes, while certainly not tiny, couldn’t compare in the slightest to Richie’s nasal artillery, and the “ihh… ihhhh…IT-CHEEOOooey” he released was nothing compared to a Richie sneeze.

But Adam’s nose wasn’t done yet; the tickle returned, the previous sneeze having done nothing to alleviate it, but rather seeming to have augmented it: “nyehhh… hih! hih! hehhh…” Adam’s nose vacillated on the edge of a relieving sneeze, its power building with every hitch of his breath, “nighiiee…hiegh… ighhhiee… iiiaaAAAAAHHH-CHOOO!” Adam sneezed, much harder than normal.

“Woah, buddy,” Richie murmured over his shoulder, “You really let that one go; you aiming to start a sneeze fight?”

“No, no, no, no,” Adam said, still feeling a bit lightheaded from the sneeze, which had taken more out of him than usual, “getting into a sneeze war with your nose is like bringing three sticks and a baseball bat to the Crimeahhhh… Crimeaaaaahhhh… Crimean... aayyYAH-SHEWWWESSH!” Yet another draining sneeze burst from Adam’s nose, this time with some considerable spray. “Yeesshhh,” Adam said, “that would would’ve drenched a tissue almost as bad as you would! I’m turning into a fire hose sneezer like y… you… you… Ah-CHOOeeeyyy!” Adam let out yet another sneeze, although this one was comparatively light, more in keeping with Adam’s usual sub-volcanic sneeze level.

Thus far, he’d been able to avoid it, having long since learned that if he was to ever do anything except sneeze, he’d have to suppress his sympathetic sneezing reaction. But ever since he’d been a teen, Richie’s nose had been envious of anyone who let out too many sneezes around him, and desired to experience such enormous relief as came with his hurricane-strength achooeys. Thus, he felt a slight tickle brewing when Adam had released his fourth sneeze, and when he heard Adam hitching up to a fifth—“ahhh… ahh… am… ah… am I ever gonaaaahhhh stahhh… stahhh… stop… ahhh…”—he feared his nose too, would begin to go into sneezy paroxysms.

“Adam, man, ah… ah… can you get a hold on those sneezes… my n-nose is starting to tickle too… hoohhhh… ohhhh…”

Richie struggled to get a grip on the still relatively slight tickle that had invaded his nose, as Adam did his best to hold back his sneezy nose from the delightfully relieving fifth sneeze that he knew was on its way. “ahhhh… ahhhh… I-I dunno… ohhhh ahhh… hah… It ruhhhh… ruhhhheaalllly tickles. Ahhhhh… AHHHH… AYYY-CHEOOOSHH!” He let out another sneeze, the strongest, wettest, and most forceful of the bunch, although not spectacularly loud.

But anyone waiting for a noisy nose would have little time to wait. Adam’s fifth and final sneeze had sent Richie’s sympathetic tickles into overdrive, and with almost no buildup, he reared his head back, nostrils flaring wildly like a bucking horse, and bellowed out an enormous, “CCHHHHEEEOOOOOOOO!” Followed by two more, slightly less loud but torrentially wet, “PLESSHEWEY! IT-CHEWWW!” Each sneeze was a spectacularly loud, messy affair, though they were commensurate to Richie’s normal sneeze volume, which, of course, approached the ear-splitting at close ranges. It was more than enough, Richie realized sheepishly, to sound throughout the entire dorm room floor, and maybe the floors above and below. He remembered to make a mental note to avoid staying up late nights—a late night tickle could easily turn peaceful dorm-mates into irate potential tormentors, irritated by being woken by Richie’s cannon-like sneeze. He realized, too, that he might’ve shaken people from any number of midday naps.

When Richie’s series of explosions were done, an affair which sent Richie’s body completely out of control, rearing back and exploding forward with abandon, his entire body at the mercy of his monstrously powerful lungs, mouth, and most of all, nose, Adam couldn’t resist making a quip. “See why I don’t want to get in a sneezing fight with you?”

“Yeah, I know. I hate those sympathetic tickles. Gotta keep that under control,” Richie said, as much to chide his nose as anything else.

“Under control? Your nose? That’s like keeping a bull in a china shop from disturbing a single piece of porcelain. Really wish I could find out why I was sneezin’ though. Those were pretty big for me, though for you it’d be like taking an earthshaking thunderstorm and replacing it with a light, pleasant summer rain…” Adam laughed, but paused when his joking was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Richie shouted, fearing that it was an irate neightbor, awoken from a nap. This had been one of his many fears about college; each of his older brothers had brought home several stories of how they had woken up between one and several fellow dorm-mates, roommates and apartment neighbors (not that the Robbins boys needed to be in the same building with a person to make themselves known by their noses; the family’s suburban neighbors had revealed on several occasions that someone, usually Richie, had been audible through the windows). Tristan, the oldest, who had, after Richie, the second most Vesuvial nose in the family, once told the story of how he had woken up, very literally, his entire dorm with a series of cold-inspired sneezes, and how only the awesomely pathetic sight of his sickly state, ensconced as he was in blankets and almost covered in used tissues and hankies, had prevented him from receiving one of his dormmates infamously cruel practical jokes.

Richie hoped to avoid such a situation, and so it was with apprehension (and desperate attempts to remember his self-defense classes) that he opened the door.

“Hey, dude!” Said the surprisingly pleasant and excited looking young man at the door, “was that a sneeze, or did somebody set of a nuke in the room next to mine?”

Relieved as Richie was by the friendliness of the visitor, Adam slightly sluggishly slid out of bed, laughing as he did, “That’s my man here, Richie, the Nose extraordinaire, the loudest sneeze in the west, superman of sneezes, the titan of ticklish nostrils, Sir Vesuvius himself, the leaf-blower…”

“Richard, just Richard is my name.” Richie cut in, eager to cut Adam off before he got to the detested “Johnnie Tsunami” epithet.

“Well, Richard-just-Richard, I had to come over here to see if that nose actually just came out of a person!”

“Sorry, I can’t help it…” Richie said, suddenly blushing slightly, “I hope I didn’t wake you or anything…”

“Nah. I wasn’t doing anything. But really, you just sneezed that loud? You got some kinda supernose or somethin’?”

“Well, it’s not exactly thin, as you can see,” Adam began, with a professorial air, “and the protruding shape and large nostrils provide some explanation as to its loud-speaker like qualities…”

“It’s just been that way since I was a kid,” sighed Richie, mildly put off by the awkward conversation.

“Dude, I haven’t heard a sneeze that loud since, like, ever, probably. Although my dad sets off some real firecrackers back at home… I didn’t think I’d hear anything like that for another few months. Kinda reminds me of home, actually.”

“Well, anytime you get homesick, just give us a ring and bring the pepper, though you might wanna bring some earplugs actually…”

“Adam. Geez, do you ever run out,” Richie inquired, with an irritated air.

“Not really.” Adam replied straightforwardly, "I'm a joke machine. And a love machine. Just FYI, let the ladies know..."

“Well,” the visitor declared, “Adam, Richie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jerry.” He stuck his hand out, and Richie shook it forcefully, though he found his grasp met with a vice shaking like a centrifuge.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Richie said, wincing slightly from the handshake.

“Hey, dude, we’re headed to lunch soon, wanna come?”Adam asked cheerfully.

“Yeah, totally. I was actually kinda hoping to avoid eating lunch alone,” Jerry confessed, “though I don’t know how you get through lunch, dude. Better warn ‘em: hide the pepper!”

That’s a joke I haven’t heard before Richie thought to himself. But, though not original in his jokes, this new acquaintance wasn’t half-bad, and was certainly an improvement upont the angry neighbor Richie’d feared he’d encounter. And speaking of curing homesickness…

“Are you wearing co-cologne… cologne… ehhhhh… ehhhhhhh… EHHHHHSSSSHOOOO!” Richie erupted another characteristically noisy sneeze, which, at unusually close range, prompted both Jerry and Adam to dramatically cover their ears to avoid the full blast of Richie’s nasal explosion, which was easily a nine on the Richter scale, probably a ten.

“Geez, man, I thought they were loud through the wall!” Jerry said, awestruck.

“Richie’s nose? Man, you haven’t seen anything yet. He’ll blow the paint off the walls before we graduate,” Adam joked, yet again.

“I think I might go ahead and take a shower,” Jerry responded, “I’ll meet you guys in about thirty minutes, alright?”

“Sounds great!” Adam said.

Richie would’ve replied, but Jerry’s cologne hadn’t yet finished with Richie’s surpassingly tickly and tickle-able nose. “hahhhh… HAHHHHH…HEHSHOOOH!” Richie erupted again, thanking his lucky nasal stars that his nose had seen fit, for once, to not let out a great big wet one while he was right in someone’s face. He opened his mouth to say, “nice to meet you,” but what came out was another, “TITCHEWWWEY! SHEWWWWWSH!” It was hugely, horribly wet, and in his zeal to avoid blasting his new compatiot, he had turned and, inadvertently, sprayed a great, big wet one into the face of his good friend Adam.

“Well… um… are you trying to tell me you don’t like my jokes, buddy?”

Now, getting sprayed by a sneeze was usually a messy affair, but getting sprayed by a Richie sneeze was pitched somewhere between “elephant sneeze” and “sprayed by a fire hose”. Adam was drenched, and Richie found himself reflecting yet again as to why he never, never attempted to use a pathetic tissue to hold up against the surpassing force of his all-powerful nasal eruptions, the tickly twin cannons of wind, wet, and sound that had taken up residence on his face, began full-strength operations in high school, and seemed to grow in power alone as their experience increased.

“Well, I think I’ll be taking a shower too.” Adam said, before promptly turning around, grabbing a towel and some clothes, and rushing to the bathroom, letting out an irrepressable, high-pitched, and surpassingly effete “EWWWWWW!” which sent Richie and Jerry into shaking convulsions of laughter.

—

After cleaning himself off from Richie’s hurricane-force discharge, Adam proceeded to the downstairs dining hall to meet both Richie and their new friend Jerry. Of course, he heard Richie before he saw him. “heh… heh… HAT-CHOOO!” It was a comparatively small one for his good friend Rich, but the noise still carried well out of the dining room and into the hallway. Adam often kidded Richie about his sneezes, but half the time he genuinely felt bad for the guy. After all, those massive eruptions that had punctuated almost his entire high school experience weren’t just occasional explosions, they were daily at the very least. Any number of things lit Richie’s sneezing fuse, setting off a chain reaction inside Richie’s nose that led inexorably to a blast of such volume and violence that people often inquired of Richie how such a loud noise could come out of a 45-year old 6’ 10’ two-hundred-thirty-pound ex-logger construction worker with a bad head cold, much less little old Richie Robbins. Every time he sneezed with people around, Richie would blush, shrug, and, Adam knew, mentally wish himself out of the room. It wasn’t easy having a semi-superpower—not that it’d do any good in a fight, Adam mused—for a sneeze. But it was life for poor Richie, and that was simply that.

For Adam’s part, he’d never been particularly bothered by his best friend’s outrageous a-choos. Maybe he just had ears of steel, but the volume didn’t bother him, and it did provide a decent shake-up during lulls in conversation. Heck, he’d been a regular vistor to the Robbins household, and that was an experience unto itself. Multiplying Richie’s sneezes with a father, three older brothers, and one younger made a ruckus that just didn’t make sense. If anyone needed proof that sneezes were hereditary, well, Adam knew where to bring them. He’d heard the same story from all six Richie men: it’s the tickles. The tickles, itches, tingles, and twinges that invaded the Robbins family sinuses were purportedly unbearable, like a thousand invisible brushes sweeping all the way up the nasal cavity. And the only way to get those brushes (temporarily) out was to let out a blast that could be heard across three counties (or at least a small suburban house… and a few of the adjacent ones.) Their sneezes came from their toes and then some. But the big sneezes were just the only way that they could relieve the incredible pressure and the tickle that built up in their large, protruding nostrils, swishing around their noses with an unimaginable irritation. The ones with long build-ups were the worst. He’d seen Tristan and Adrian, Sebastian and Max, even Mr. Robbins, staring up at lights, forcefully fanning under their noses, doing anything to tip the tickle out of the gate and onto the flight ramp, at which point a sneeze would shoot out from their nostrils of which any elephant would have been proud.

It was thoughts like this that preoccupied Adam as he sat down with Richie and Jerry, who were discussing the finer points of eruption-inspiring allergens.

“For my dad, is the dogs that are the worst, man, get him within ten feet of a dog, especially one of those great big shaggy things, and oh man… it’s time to break out the protective earmuffs, I’m tellin’ you…”

“Yeah, dogs get me bad too, but the cats… oh… waay… wait a second… I’b gonnahhhh… ahhh… HASHOOOEY!” Richie gasped out a “’nother… nothaaahhh” before bursting into a second tectonic shift of a sneeze, “YASSSHOOOOOO! Oh, I’m so sorry, that was a big one.”

“They’re always big ones, Rich!” Adam said as he sat down.

“Can’t argue with you there.” Richie sighed. While he often wished he could just get rid of his charateristic sneez-plosions, Richter rockers, or Richie Roars, as his nasal expulsions were variously called, Richie was grateful for friends that weren’t repulsed, shocked, or amazed by his sneezes, and he felt much less self-conscious about lettin’ it rip when Adam, or, as of today, Jerry, was around. Not that he had much (or any) choice.

“So, you two comparing notes?” asked Adam.

“Yeah,” Jerry said, “so far, we’ve mentioned flowers, pepper, animals…”

“Actually, most spices get me, red pepper worst of all.” Richie began, “In fact, the reason I sat down at this table is because it doesn’t even have a red pepper shaker, thank goodness. But I’ve blown back the fur and feathers on just about any pet you can imagine…”

They continued on talking like this, unaware that at the table just behind them, the very jock that had filled the standard role of Richie’s sneeze tormentor was subtly listening in on their conversation. Ashton Stevens was his name, and he, like Jerry, had also had a big sneezer at home. But he didn’t have such generous memories of his parents’ noisy noses. In fact, he had been driven nearly insane by his mother and father’s constant loud sneezes, which, unlike Richie’s, seemed put-on, fake, as if they both just wanted to announce to the world how noisily they could sneeze. The crowning moment had been that day, the day of senior prom… but Ashton tried not to think about it. For his part, he had rather dainty sneezes, somewhat at odds with his large and muscular build. He, of course, had never been plagued with allergies on the level of Richie’s, but he had gone through an allergic phase as a teen. During that time he constantly focused on controlling his sneezes, squelching them down until they were little more than a semi-audible, “chuh”. Richie’s gargantuan gale winds had brought him right back to that moment at the senior prom, and he secretly seethed inside every time Richie’s nose went out of control and spasmed with a silence-smashing sneeze. But he was formulating a plan, in the back of his mind, that would shame Richie into shutting up, as his parents never would.

Meanwhile, as Ashton Stevens seethed, Richie (predictably) sneezed. “yeaaaahhhh, ahhhh… aaaaahpppppSHEWWW! Uh, another one. I don’t know what’s making my nose so itchy!” The sneeze, honestly, had been the lightest one he’d let out in a while, only audible above speaking voices at the end, indicating a comparatively low-level irritation. Probably a stray flake of black pepper. While he reacted to pepper as much as anybody else, Richie had never had nearly as much of a problem with pepper as he did with dander, other spices, and the dreaded perfume and cologne.

“So,” Adam inquired, “what are you boys up to this evening. It’s Friday night, and ah… ah… HAT! CHOO!” Adam let out a neatly segregated sneeze, a firmly punctuated breath drawn in followed by a neat and tidy choo, which, although somewhat wet, was not extremely loud, as per the normal pattern of Adam’s sneeze. “Woah, I don’t know why I keep sneezing.”

“Yeah, come to think of it, neither do I,” Richie added, “do you think you’re allergic to something up here?”

“Nah, I’m as hardy as a bull, allergens can’t get me down. Try as they might, they cannot invade the fortress of my mighty nasal guard. Granted, they don’t have as big of a target on mehh… on mehhhh… me… as…. BAA-shewww!” Adam sneezed again, with a sound that sounded utterly fed-up with sneezing.

“Any chance you might be getting a cold?” Jerry inquired. Adam and Richie exchanged anxious looks. Each knew what the other was thinking: if Richie caught a cold, his sneezes, seemingly impossibly, would grow significantly in strength, volume, and mess.

“No,” Adam said, attempting to laugh away the possibility, “No way! The last time I had a cold was…”

“The camping trip in eleventh grade. And I promptly caught it and nearly blew down our tent on several different occasions.” Richie finished for him, “And I hope it’s not happening now,” he moaned, “because if you get sick, then I’ll get sick, and if I get sick…”

“Don’t worry, Rich!” Adam insisted, “I’m not getting sick! But so you don’t worry, I guess I’ll take some vitamins, and call it an early night, I guess…”

“No way, man!” Jerry interrupted, “we’ve barely been in college for a week. We’re goin’ out tonight. We’re going somewhere, and if you don’t like it, mister, too bad!”

Adam laughed. “Well, can’t argue with a command like that, sir. Where do we go?”

“There’s a nice bar nearby,” Richie offered.

“No, no, no, I mean a real club: loud music, sloppy drunks, and scantily-clad women.” Of course, at the mention of women, all three hormone-addled brains perked up instantly, and any reluctance at club-going was instantly erased.

And, Adam saw another perk:

“Plus, the club’s so loud, Richie, that it’s probably one of the few places on earth where your sneezes can’t carry. You know, places like construction sites… death metal concerts… one of my sister’s shouting—I mean singing recitals…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But that’s actually a good point, and the sneezes have actually been comparatively light...” but suddenly Richie’s eyes got a distant, faraway look. His nose scrunched up, and the itch exploded in his nostrils like a thousand buzzing tiny, invisible flies, sending his nostrils into a rampage of twitching, his upper lip, his entire face swishing and moving with the enormous need to sneeze that had burgeoned so suddenly in his nostrils. This was gearing up to be a real monster; his breath hitched, “hahhhh… hahhhh…,” his eyes bulged. He reached his hand up to try to scrub away the itch, although he knew it was useless. This was shaping up to be the biggest sneeze that had hit him all day… “hih! hih! ah! ah! ah! ooooh, it won’t come ou… outahhhh… ahhhhhh… ahahhhh… ahahhah…” the sneeze stuck for a moment, leaving Richie’s face in a mask of sneezy agony, the corners of his mouth turned firmly down, his eyes tearing and glancing upwards, searching for a light bright enough to send his brewing eruption into its final stages of detonation, his eyebrows severely arched. His watering eyes rapidly blinked for what seemed an eternity, before he gave his nose one more good sniff and gave in to the inevitable detonation: “hhhhaaAAA-AARRSCHOOOhhh! HAAA-HOOOOOSH-SHOOOOEY! Ahhh… igghiee… hah…" He hitched for just a few seconds before absolutely roaring out the thermonuclear explosion of his final sneeze: "RAAH-SCHOOOOOOOOHH!”

“Woah.” Said Adam and Jerry simultaneously.

The sneeze was so big, it left Richie panting a little after. It wasn’t just the biggest sneeze all day, it was the biggest set of sneezes he’d had in a month! Richie had rocked back and forth with each colossal sneeze, giving his tickly nose complete abandon. The sneezes took him over, and each was a nearly-shouted affair that was louder than most people can shout. Those sneezes seemed to come from his whole body, his nose being merely the epicenter of the eruption. He was completely out-of-control for each massive gusting sneeze, his whole frame shaking and swaying at the mercy of his king-sized schnoz and the unbearable itch that had taken three of Richie’s most powerful sneezes to expel. When he opened his eyes afterward, he was half-afraid that he’d blown the table away!

Adam and Jerry, prepared by experience, had covered their ears, but the rest of the dining hall… well, being unprepared, some had dropped forks, plates, and cups, most had stopped their conversations, and quite a few shocked “what was that?”s sounded around the room. Those had been big even for Richie, far too loud, in fact, for anyone to hear the near-simultaneous soft, tickly “chuhh! ch-hoooh! chuhh! ka-chuuhhh!” that had come from the next table over, soft barely-there puffs of air in comparison to Richie’s Kansas twister sized sneezes, which he swore would have been big enough to send Dorothy not only to Oz, but to the other said of Mars.

“Dude,” Adam said, as the dining room slowly went back to normal, after being rocked by Richie’s “You totally shouldn’t have jinxed it.”

“Ha-ha,” Richie said, not feeling exceptionally prepared for laughing after single handedly—or rather, single-nosedly”—overpowering an entire dining room full of noisy college students in volume. “Let’s just get out of here as quickly as possible. I don’t want another one of those to happen… and I think… there might still be the beginnings of a… ah…” Richie quickly clamped his hands over his nose, hoping that he might fight the tiny residual tickle back before it became another of room-rocker, or at least get outside into the open air to release the beast.

Adam, Richie, and Jerry hurried surreptitiously out of the dining room. At the table behind them, sat Ashton Stevens, face upturned, irritated tears forming in his eyes, but a smug smile on his face, nose twitching and jerking with otherwise imperceptible “chooh! chuh! ha-hushh!” sneezes, with a plate of spaghetti practically drenched in red pepper. His little “experiment” confirmed, he threw the plate away, which promptly cleared up his sneezes, and walked calmly out of the dining hall, but not before slyly sliding the red pepper shaker into his waiting pocket.

--

Richie had, of course, erupted again outside, although once out of the range of the red pepper flakes that were like gunpowder for Richie’s cannon-like nostrils, the sneezes hadn’t registered quite so high on the Richter Scale (“a minor aftershock!” Adam had quipped).  But sneezes that huge left Richie concerned; could he be catching a cold? That would be disastrous. Besides feeling bad, he could hardly go to class, detonating another sneeze every few minutes, sneezes that would rock a three hundred person lecture hall and perhaps even send his papers flying down to the row below, sneezes that would throw even the most concentrated lecturer off of his or her game, sneezes that, in a smaller classroom, would probably disturb not only his own class, but all the classes on the floor! Of course, he’d had mega-sneezes like that before, and it didn’t always mean he was catching a cold, but if he was… well, he’d just take a lot of vitamin C that night. But going to bed early wasn’t an option. Richie, Jerry and Adam were going to a nearby club, Club Z, for a night on the town. After running back upstairs to change (again), the threesome left their dorm and headed towards Club Z, chatting all the while.

“So, Rich, how are classes going?” Adam asked, to get the conversation started.

“Oh, pretty good, when I’m not busy sneezing through them. Sebastian warned me that his sneezes tend to disrupt standard professorial activities, so I knew mine would probably blow out a few eardrums. Not that I’m not used to that sort of thing.”

“How about you, Jerry?”

“Oh, things are going well for me too. Chemistry is kicking my butt, but besides that I’m doing pretty well. That class is so boring! I almost wish that someone would come in there with a great big Richie-cane kinda sneeze. At least that way things wouldn’t be quite as boring!”

“Oh, you would have loved our high school then,” Adam cut in, “Almost every time I fell asleep in class, Richie’s nose would get an itch and once the nasal volcano got going, sleeping was not an option.”

“Whatever, Adam,” Richie said, blushing slightly at the extended discussion of his nasal… ahem, prowess, even among friends, “I didn’t even have a half of my classes with you.”

“Exactly.” Adam replied, smiling. *** Soon, Richie and company arrived at the club. However, they were still several feet away when the perfume started getting to Richie’s nose: “ah…. ahhhh… agghhha… igghhiiie… AAAA-CHOOOOH! heh… heh… AHHH-CHOOOOOH!” he sneezed, blasting out the tickly perfume smell as hard as he could. When Richie sneezed, his whole body was involved; in fact, Adam was surprised that Richie didn’t have a six-pack from all the forceful contractions of his stomach and chest as he roared out all that sneezy air at obscene velocities, and decibel levels.

“Bless ya, buddy. Are there some flowers around,” inquired Jerry.

“Na… no, nahhh.. ahhhhh WAAAAAASSSHOOOO! ARRRR-CHOOAAAYYYY!” Richie screamed out each sneeze. While not as loud as the true Richie-canes of the dining hall, these sneezes produced more than enough volume to echo loudly off of the nearby buildings and turn quite a few heads. Richie was quite afraid that an irate head would poke out of one of the windows of the high-rise apartment buildings on the street to demand that he achieve the impossible feat of quieting down his great lion’s roar of a sneeze.  He’d been asked by more than one teacher (and moviegoer, and theater patron, and restaurant waiter, and even, on one notorious occasion, a few patrons at just the sort of rock concerts that Adam had supposed would be loud enough to drown out Richie’s roars, but then again, not only were all the people there drenched in cologne and perfume, but Richie had left from a friend’s house who had a very furry german shepherd, and Richie had the beginnings of a cold) to control his thunderclap sneezes, but, like the thunder, Richie’s sneezes were a force of nature, and could not be quieted down or controlled any better than the wind.

Hoping he’d gotten his nose under control with that last massive sneeze, Richie ventured to speak, “No… it’s the perfume... oh, wait… ‘nothing one’s cahhhh…. coming…. RAAAAASSSSHOOOOOH! YASSSSSSHHHHHHHH-OOO!” Richie sniffed loudly, as two girls, one of who was probably wearing the sneeze-causing perfume, looked around. The girl wearing the perfume, alright slightly tipsy, half-spoke, half-shouted, “Ugh, I can’t stand it when people exaggerate their sneezes like that! Can’t he control it? That’s just too loud!”

Aside from the irony of the woman commenting on Richie’s loud sneezes with her loud voice (although Richie had to admit that even a trained opera singer would have difficulty keeping up with him in volume when he really got going), Adam was offended by her comments about his friend, and was about to walk up and give the perfume drenched woman a piece of his mind when her friend abruptly did it for him!

“Oh, Charlene, be quiet! They can hear you. Besides, how can you expect a poor kid to control his sneezes when you can’t even control your big mouth!” Adam had to admit that he was impressed, and as Charlene and her assertive friend got in line for the same club as Adam, Richie, and Jerry, Adam made a mental note to “bump into” her at some point that night. Maybe Richie’s wind-machine strength allergies would flare up again and give him an excuse to talk to her?

Meanwhile, Ashton wasn’t far behind the trio, cringing at each of Richie’s elephantine sneezes. He thought to himself, “This is ridiculous! He sneezes even louder than my father! How embarrassing! I don’t even know how those other goons can stand to be seen around him. I’ll teach him not to be so disgusting with his sneezes.” As the perfume got to his nose, Ashton harshly muffled three sneezes by pinching his nostils, “shhhmp! chikkk! ch!” They were barely audible. Ashton fingered the red pepper in his pocket as he watched Richie and company walk into the club. He bided his time for a few minutes, and then, after walking around the block a bit, went in as well.

—-

As soon as the threesome entered the club, Ritchie rushed off to the restroom, hoping to give his nose a good, strong blow to clear his nose of perfume and pollen, so as to head off the sneezes at the pass. But by the time he reached the restroom door, his twitching, tickling nose had had too much, and, bleary-eyed, Richie let it take over for six full-strength sneezes: “HAASSSSSHHHHHOOOooooo… hh… hhhiiiiiIIIIIIIIICHOOOOOOO! Ih-CHOOO! haaahHH-CHOOOOOO! ahhhhhHHH-CHOOOO! HAHH-CHOOOOOOOhhhhheyyy” That last one was a monster, making a gutteral, throat-scraping sound as the normal “choo” was twisted by Richie’s awe-inspiring lung power into a growling, snarling shout of a sneeze, leaving Richie somewhat lightheaded and dizzy. And of course, he immediately connected the number of sneezes (Richie rarely let out so many all in a row like that) to the head cold he was desperately afraid was brewing in his firecracker nostrils, those wide, vacuum-like tunnels where tickles went in, and sneezes came out that were second only to the Big Bad Wolf with a bad cold.

And speaking of colds, Richie was terrified of developing one. Every cold he’d ever had had settled directly in his nose, causing a near-constant tickle that he could only blow out with his biggest, most ear-drum busting, dorm-wall rattling, earthquake-causing sneezes. Even Richie’s biggest sneezes could only provide momentary relief from the tickle; minutes later, the tickle would come back with a vengence, and so would the sneezes, until Richie would deliberately blow them out as hard as he could, just to get the tickle to stop for a few minutes. Richie’s colds were events in the Robbins household (and every house on the surrounding block); he hoped and prayed they wouldn’t become events on-campus too.

Looking around the restroom and finding it (thank goodness) empty, Richie marched to a stall to give his nose a few of his patented, honking nose blows. While not quite commensurate to his sneezes in volume, those bass-note honks of his could certainly send a rumble through any room, and Richie was glad that the room remained empty as he did his best to keep his nose free and clear, so as to minimize sneezing episodes.

Meanwhile, Adam and Jerry were on the prowl, and getting shut down all the time. Jerry had offered to buy drinks for no less than three women, with no success, while Adam’s jokes were falling unusually flat, perhaps owing to the volume of the music and the near-impossibility of hearing anything (except perhaps for Richie) over the thumping bass and wailing noise of the speakers.

So it was that Adam and Jerry had given up and begun dancing their way into the morass of people at the center of the club, when Richie went searching for them. Of course, hidden as they were in the mass of people, Richie had no hope of finding either of his friends, and sat down at the bar, quickly flashing his (fake) ID, and ordered a beer. He figured he’d wait until he found Adam and Jerry to start dancing, and he was sure that his nose would give him ample opportunity before then to test Adam’s theory that the noise of the club would muffle the rumbling explosions of his nose.

In fact, as the bartender slid Richie his beer, Richie felt his nose flaring into life. His breath hitched, his face contorted, his nostrils assuming control of his face, twisting this way and that as though they had a life of their own, reacting to the bucking bronco of itch that had, as always, brushed ferociously against the twitching walls of his sensitive nostrils. And as Richie’s face contorted, his watering eyes slid closed in preparation of the great big sneeze to come…

…and Ashton Stevens saw his chance. He’d been sitting at the bar, plotting how he could cause misery for Richie at the club. Luckily, he’d been at the bar while Richie had erupted in the restroom (especially since the only thing Ashton found more disgusting than sneezes was nose blowing), but now he was sitting not too far from Richie, and had been spying on him out of the corner of his eye since Richie had sat down. Now was his chance. He slid the small shaker of red pepper out of his pocket and sent a cloud floating up into the air, knowing that the strong air conditioning in the room, as well as the breeze from the constantly opening front door, would waft the tickly spice straight into Richie’s all-too-combustible nose.

And he was right. Seconds later, Richie froze, as he felt the tickle in his nose multiply exponentially. The itch in his nose, already monstrous, became a thousand buzzing flies, scurrying through his nasal passages, wreaking havoc on his sensitive sinuses, creating such tremendous pressure in his nose that he knew that the only way to get any relief would be to blast out a sneeze at full-strength. He felt it gearing up to be as big as the one in the dining hall, if not bigger. Out of his watery eyes, he took a quick glance around him: there was no way he’d get to the restroom before his Vesuvial nose gave an eruption that would put Mt. St. Helens to shame, and the way his nose was feeling, it’d be wet enough to outshine Old Faithful. But there were so many people around. Richie had been warned about it time and time again, and he knew he shouldn’t… but he didn’t want to spray any strangers! So… he stifled.

“ahh…. Ahhhhhh… AHHHHHHHHH… AGGGHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAA…” He wound up, with huge, powerful breaths, and then… “chhhmmppppppppppp!” He sneezed, somewhat wetly, but contained, and with nowhere near enough volume to be heard over the noise of the club. Stifling successful.

But his nose was on fire. It was as if he had quadrupled the already unimaginable tickle. If he was going to fire off one eruption before, now he was preparing for a twenty-one-gun salute. Finger struck firmly beneath his nose, Richie rushed to the restroom as fast as he could, pushing past the clubgoers in the crowded club, afraid to give so much as an “excuse me” for fear that speaking would tip the sneeze into the uncontrollable zone. Richie forcefully pushed the door open as he marched into the restroom, which was, of course, filled with people. In the already small, echoing restroom, Richie’s sneezes would probably reach ear-splitting volumes and annoy, if not terrify, every patron in the restroom. But it wasn’t as if he had any choice; he had to let the monsters loose.

Richie quickly swung a stall door open and closed as his breaths became audible, and grew louder, and louder… “iiihhhhhh… HHHHHiiiiIIIHHHHHH… HAHHHHHH… HAHHHHHHH…. HHAAAAHHHHHHHHH…HAAAAAAAAAAAAA-SHOOOOOOOOOOOOO! BAAACCCHOOOOOEEYYYY! HASSSHHH! HAHHSSHHHHuuhh… OOOO-SHOOOOOOOH! USSSSHHHHHH-CHHAAAHHH! Ahhhhh… Ahhhh… ahhhhh…CHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

They came, sneeze after sneeze after sneeze, outrageous in volume, hurricane like in spray. Richie heedlessly swung backwards and forwards, gulping in air to fuel each massive explosion. He knew now why his parents had warned him to never, never hold in his sneezes, because this was the result: a constantly seizing nose in a fit that would last for minutes.

The reaction of the men in the restroom, as expected had been vocal and noisy. The already somewhat drunken patrons had no trouble voicing their disapproval: “What the hell?! Did somebody drop a bomb in here? Shuddup in there, I can’t hear myself think!”

But Richie, whatever he wished, he no ability to shut up. His nose was in control now, and it was going to blow, and blow, and blow until the pent-up tickle was blasted out, full-strength.

“Hehhhh… ehhhhhh… EEHHHHH-SHOOOOOH! EH-SHOOOH! Eghhhhaaaa… haaaa… haaa… YAAAAAAA-SHHHEEEEEWWWWWWWW!  SHIISSSHHHHH! ISSHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHH-SHOOOH! AHHHHHHHH-SCHOOOO! AH-SHOOOOH!”

The sneezes just kept coming, unbelievably loud, unbelievably powerful. This was one of the longest fits Richie could remember (though probably not the worst he’d experienced). Gradually, the sneezes grew farther apart: “haahhhh.. hahhhh.. HA-SHOOO! Ahhhhh… HA-SHUU! iiSHHHIIII-OO!”

Each sneeze, though still loud enough to echo through the restroom, was at a more manageable volume. Still, Richie was exausted from firing off sneeze after sneeze, and as his nose finally let out its final “heh… heh-chhh-EW!” Richie just wanted a nice long nap. He sat in the stall for a moment to survey the damage. He had been right about the spray; he could see the glistening drops decorating the entire stall door as though it had been hit with a hose. He still heard the men grumbling and muttering about his sneezes, and he was sure that those who were in the restroom (and probably those near the door) would spread the word to their friends about Richie’s incredible eruption. Sometimes, Richie just wished that his nasal curse could just go away. Why was his family cursed with the world’s most massive sneezes? Why was his nose the epicenter of such eruptions? But, as he sniffed gently, preparing for a nose blow to clear the last bits of congestion in his nose, he was glad for one thing: the tickle was completely gone.

Meanwhile, Ashton had been standing near the door, and had heard Richie firing off sneeze after sneeze after sneeze. He was red with rage; that fit had been exactly like the one his dad had blasted out at Ashton’s senior prom, in the middle of Ashton’s prom king acceptance… all over the prom queen. She dumped Ashton within the week.

Turning violently on his heel, Ashton marched out of the club, certain that he had a new secret weapon to use against Richie: if he could get him to clam up those sneezes, just once, then he knew Richie would fire off a show of sneezes so loud that Ashton could use it to embarrass Richie in front of anyone within earshot; in other words, Ashton grimly laughed to himself, anyone within a five-mile radius.

—-

Ashton, however, had not been the only person close enough to the restroom to hear those gale-force blasts trumpeting out from Richie's nostrils of fury. In fact, just as Richie was beginning to launch into a fit for the ages, Jerry had decided he ought to slip off to the restroom; no need to "break the seal" yet, but Jerry had anticipated he was in for a fairly long night, partying with his newfound friends, and--hopefully--with a few more newfound "friends" from among the club's very attractive female population, and as such wanted to make sure that his tiny bladder would not interfere with his very large-sized dreams---oh, alright, fantasies---of what would go on that night.

But Jerry was pretty far from the door when he heard that tell-tale eruption coming from the men's room. He quickly stuck his head into the restroom and knew immediately the source of the disturbance. He would scarcely have believed that even Richie could sneeze so forcefully. He was putting up a good fight with the music in the club, and that was deafening as it was. Heck, at close range, Richie's nose could have outdone a shotgun, a leafblower, a small nuclear explosion... but in the midst of these musing, Jerry noticed Ashton. Unlike everyone else in the restroom (and nearby), who were scrambling to get away from the noise, Ashton seemed transfixed. He was just standing by the restroom door, not going in, didn't seem to be coming out, and he had the most peculiar, almost devious expression on his face. Of course, Jerry knew Ashton somewhat---Ashton was touted as one of the most talented football players of the freshman class, and at their D1 school, that meant a lot. But this threw Ashton in a completely different light. Why on earth was he just standing there? And what was that strange look that passed across his face each time Richie bellowed out another monsterous, "HHHHHEEEEEESSSSSSSSCHHHHHOOOOOOOOoooooh!" Jerry was not a suspicious person by nature--and as Richie's twenty-one gun salute went on, he knew he had to check and see if Richie was alright--but he filed that instance away in his mind as yet another strange happening of college life.

The more important thing was to check on Richie. When it finally seemed that Richie's nose had calmed down enough that he'd be able to speak, Jerry ventured forth a, "Hey, man, you alright in there?"

"Jerry?" Richie responded, fearing the worst, "oh, god, don't tell me you could hear me all the way out..."

"No, no, man, I was just heading to the restroom when I heard the big bang from outside the door, don't worry. But what happened there? I didn't think you were ever going to stop!"

"N-neither did... oh, god, h-here ihhhh... here it gooohhhh... ohhhhh... oohhhhhh... ahh... HA-CHOOOOH! Man, thought I was done there," Richie give a liquid sniff, "but the aftershocks just sneak up on me."

"And speakin' of sneakin', there you guys are!" Adam quipped.

"Are you just everywhere?" Richie asked, half-laughingly, half-exasperated. Adam had the strangest habit of popping up everywhere.

"A magician never reveals his secrets, young Richard." Adam gave a sudden gasp before, "Ha-chooOOSH! Huh... hashhhooo! Ugh, must be in the air," Adam said, as he grabbed a tissue from the sink counter to blow his nose. He was a bit of a nasal honker, and his blows were decidedly louder than his generally quiet, gentle sneezes (although, in comparison to a Richie-cane, your average elephant was pretty quiet and gentle), and were much louder when he had a cold---because he didn't have Richie's almighty, head-clearing sneezes, he relied much more on forceful nose-blowing to blast out the itch from his nose, and still had far less success--unsurprisingly--that a full-force sneeze from Richie, even without a cold or that dreaded red pepper.

Richie, however, wasn't so sure that something was "in the air"; the humongous fit he'd just succumbed to made him almost positive: he was catching a cold.

"No, Adam, it's not 'in the air'--we're sick, and I'm going home." Richie declared. Adam was somewhat taken aback at his friend's unusually forceful tone, but he knew that, as always, he could joke his friend out of his resolve.

"Oh, you're not sick---granted, a 300-pound body builder with a bad head cold and a wind machine up his nose probably can’t compare to the ‘ol schozz-cannon you’ve’ got… but those, my friend, were not cold sneezes.”

“How do you know?” Richie demanded.

“I still have hearing in my right ear, obviously.”

[jinniesxlamp]

The Tables Have Turned - Chapter 8

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

Two days have passed since the SBS Charity Concert incident, since then you started feeling sick. At first you thought the clumpy nose was just the aftermath of crying too much, but based on how you were feeling as you got up this morning you started to think otherwise.

Y/N’s POV

My eyes started seeing double upon every movement. I was determined to finish making breakfast in ten minutes, just so I could leave the house without having to see Jin. That has been my routine for the past days. It was a struggle keeping the frying pan in place as it kept swerving, even transferring the egg garnish to the chopping board took every inch of my focus.

The rest of the day was a greater struggle. Today was the annual physical exam for the employees at JYP and the clinic was packed from 8:00 am to 5:00 pm. If it hadn’t been for your hour-long lunch break, you wouldn’t have survived the entire shift.

During the evening, you felt hot flushes invade your entire body. Sweat started to accumulate on your forehead. Standing in front of the hot pot of spicy beef stew only masked the idea that you were having a fever--thinking it was the steam that made you feel that way.

With no energy left in you, you gave up the idea of having dinner for yourself, retiring to your bedroom after setting the table for Jin.

Mark’s POV

Inkigayo’s backstage wasn’t new to me but that didn’t mean I knew my way around the building well. I started feeling hopeless, walking from one wing to another, unable to find our dressing room. I accidentally left my phone inside the van earlier. Normally, one of the assistants would go and get it but I didn’t really know how to describe where I kept it so I went by myself. My lips formed into a pout and my bangs flew away from my forehead when I released an ‘I give up’ sigh. 

It was already bad enough having no reception at all in the building. I couldn’t call or text anyone. Also, I regret not asking someone for directions earlier because now I’m all alone in this hallway. I sighed again as I continued to walk back to where I came from. Not very long after, I finally saw people from all directions giving me a sense of relief. Thanks to the janitor I had just recently talked with, I was finally walking towards the right direction. Our edge of the wing wasn’t as busy as the rest. Three doors more and I was finally there. 

A sudden creak across the hall urged me to turn for a look.

The fair woman entered one of the empty rooms, followed by a man. I couldn’t see their faces clearly--til he glanced carefully on both sides, checking to see if someone had seen them.

We had just gotten out of the meeting, ready to exit the building for lunch. It was amusing to see all the employees rush out the door, I always liked to imagine where they spent their free hour. Errands? A lunch date, maybe?

Then there was you. Everything around me started slowing down. Everything. Everyone, but you. I still remember how we first met, how you didn’t have any pretenses whatsoever. You stood there in a simple dress, taking your shoes off from time to time telling Jimin how it hurts. 

I felt my heart flutter going back to when you tried to push Jungkook with full force, barely moving him from his place. The cute blush on your face when you accidentally spilled champagne on your dress from attempting to do a weird hand gesture to describe your favorite place in LA. 

My body suddenly flinched when you almost tripped, carrying a box of what looked like medical supplies. I watched you bow nervously to the ahjussi who asked you if you were alright.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” My attention shifted to Jackson who apparently, was staring at me the whole time.

“She is.” I replied.

We both watched as you disappeared into the corner, allowing silence to occur between us.

“She’s a married woman, hyung--

He paused.

I’m just looking out for you”

Everyone knew you were a decent man. With whatever you did, you always made sure to choose doing what was right--no matter how big or small. In your eyes there was only black and white.

But why--why is it that every time I look into your eyes I forget to be reasonable?

“I know” I whispered back to Jackson.

However, that was yesterday. 

Now, you were seated in the dressing room, contemplating, pondering. Finding a reason to fight back what you truly wanted. You thought hard, and if you couldn’t think of anything, you thought again. But every time you remember the look of hurt on Y/N’s eyes and every sight of Jin and Irene flashing before your mind convinced you--there wasn’t any left. You took a deep breath and sighed.

You’re not helping the both of us, Jin.

From Inkigayo, we all went back to the headquarters for fitting. It didn’t take that much time and we ended up finishing early for the day. The boys wanted barbecue and drinks for dinner so I guess that’s what we were doing. 

I thought of you the whole day. Well, since I saw Jin and Irene. 

He was a married man living like he wasn’t. That’s a simple thing I couldn’t get myself to understand. 

We were on our way out but I wanted to see you. 

I wanted to know how you’ve been since I last saw you that night. Wondering if he took care of you. Did he wipe your tears when you got home? Hold you tight in bed while you slept peacefully in his arms? 

“You go ahead, there’s something I need to do. I’ll catch up with you later” 

Jackson looked at me disapprovingly. He knew exactly what I was up to, but he said nothing.

As I walked towards the basement, I felt my stomach flutter. I bit my lip trying to hide the smile that was creeping to my face. I cleared my throat knocking on the door but no one answered. Three attempts and still nothing. Twisting the knob and learning how it wasn’t locked, I invited myself in. All the lights were open so I was expecting you to be there. 

Something wasn’t right. 

I advanced further into the room, rushing when I heard a sound of boxes falling.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

It was like torture watching you shiver with tears in your eyes, trying to catch your breath. Luckily the emergency room was’t packed and you were taken cared of immediately. The doctors and nurses were able to stabilize you but you were still shivering with tears in your eyes. I dried your tears again, looking at you suffer in your own body. Your lips were so pale. I could tell how weak you were as you let out hot, unsteady breaths.

I tried to understand what you struggled to whisper beneath your breath.

“Jin.” 

Even at your most fragile state--you still looked for him.

“Shhh, Gwenchana”

Y/N’s POV

I tried to open my eyes slowly, wondering what happened. The last thing I remember doing was arranging the supplies in the clinic. I felt someone’s presence, his voice softly waking me up

“How are you feeling?” Though his eyes were weary and his hair was a mess, he was still very handsome.

“W-what happened?” I asked.

“You collapsed in the clinic. Why did you come to work when you weren’t feeling well?” he looked at me, disappointed.

“W-well...t-that...errrr--” there wasn’t a good reason, just that you were really hard headed.

“You scared me, Y/N” I turned to his direction, his eyes were so gentle, so  comforting. So sincere and embracing. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t get anything out of my mouth.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling dizzy? Maybe you should rest a little more” he started to panic a little it made me blush.

“A-ani. It’s just that you’re always the one saving me” you sighed, looking down.

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow causing you to panic this time

“No--no of course not! It’s just that I’m indebted to you. I just find in unfair on your part because I never get the chance to thank you enough for saving me from one incident then another one comes up. Who knows, maybe tomorrow something bad might happen and it’s gonna be you saving me again” 

You chuckled lightly at your own joke. 

You paused for a moment, sighing again.

“You know...that night I asked myself, how come Jin never came to me every time he was supposed to? Instead, it was always you--

Why is it so easy for you--but so difficult for him to come to me?”

I looked straight, feeling my heart ache for the millionth time these past few days. 

“Because I care about you Y/N” 

Something in the way he said it made you look at him

“I know yo--” At first I didn’t quite get the idea. 

The moment my eyes laid on his, I knew what he meant to say. My throat ran dry, unable to come up with words inside my head. I was just...lost in him. I watched as he sighed, like he was in full surrender.

“You are for Jin to keep as he is to you supposedly BUT in times when he forgets to wipe your tears, I will gladly do it for him. When he’s too lost to listen to your voice, let me--I will hear them. If you’re out in the cold and his coat isn’t around you, I will hand you mine.”

“Mark” I replied breathlessly.

“I won’t make you come to me, Y/N but I will always come to you. Freely. Unconditionally. I will always come. Even if you don’t call for me” he said. 

Jin’s POV

I sat on the meeting room table of the studio, thinking about how we haven’t seen each other since that night. I know you were avoiding me. It’s been days since I’ve last seen you or heard your voice. As much as I want to deny it, this time it really was bothering me. Our relationship wasn’t great to begin with, but we never fought until that day you ran away from me. Since then it’s been incident after incident. Even when you were hurting in the past you never avoided me like what’s been happening a lot recently. You were always there, always patient, always understanding.

When Irene brought me inside that room earlier, I couldn’t even look her in the eyes without wanting suffocate at her scent. Our meeting ended rather shortly, which was never the case. She wasn’t happy about it but there was nothing she could do--I just wasn’t feeling it. I didn’t have that feeling of wanting to be with her at that time.

The boys and I were patiently waiting for the managers to hand out the rest of the week’s schedule. Everyone was talking with one another while I stayed still. A minute after, manager Sejin comes in, his phone on his ear with a worried look on his face. 

I ran towards the entrance of the Emergency Room, panting uncontrollably, turning my head in every direction desperate to see you.

“This way hyung” Hoseok lead the way after asking the people at the nurses’ station.

Instead of entering one of the curtained cubicles, he stopped.

“What?” I asked impatiently. Then I looked to where he rested his gaze.

You looked so peaceful sleeping, as if your mind wasn’t breaking down for the past weeks. Of course I knew. And then I saw him, sitting beside you, holding your hand and looking at you in ways I failed to do. What made him feel so entitled to do those things? My jaw started clenching. I attempted to advance closer, not knowing what I was about to do. Yoongi knew better than to allow me.

“Don’t make a scene. Let her rest.” I shot him a glare which he returned to me without hesitation.

“Take him somewhere else for now. I’ll call you when he leaves” Hoseok seemed to have agreed with Yoongi, convinced that it was best for me not to get closer for the time being.

I sat by the window, watching the rain fall down from the skies menacingly.

The divinity must have heard me.

As I calmed myself down, I noticed Yoongi coming back with two cups of coffee for us both. I took the cup he handed out, quietly trying to resolve my own thoughts.

“Go ahead. Say it.” I gave him a confused look, waiting for him to put down his cup.

He stared at me back with displeasure growing deeper on his face as I stayed silent.

“That’s the problem with you. You’re too proud to admit how you actually feel.”

My brows furrowed as wrinkles started forming on my forehead.

“Since you’re not going to say it, might as well let me” he continued.

I tried to open my mouth to speak but he gestured for me to stop, facing his palm towards me.

“You’re too proud of yourself, hyung. You know what you’re doing to Y/N. You know what you’re doing to yourself--

Don’t you think we know you’re hurting too? Of course you don’t. You don’t even know that yourself--and it’s simply because you’re too much of a coward to admit that--

You keep telling yourself all these lies that she doesn’t mean anything to you. It’s irritating. Let me tell you how many times Jungkook wanted to hit you in the face for you to wake up from the delusion you’re stuck in--

I could go all night, telling you the things you already know but won’t own up to. Wake-the-fuck-up, hyung. Get your shit together. Because if you haven’t noticed yet, things are starting to change between Y/N and you--

Don’t wait until the tables have fully turned, because I’m telling you. Not I, not Jungkook, not anyone, even you will be able to help you get her back.”

Instead of being angry, I felt weak listening to Yoongi, allowing him to pull the words out of my mouth. Letting every word he said sink into me, I sighed in defeat. 

He was right.

“Mark Tuan” that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.

“What about him?” Yoongi asked with a stain of irritation in his voice, still unable to recover from the emotions brought by his sermon. 

“The night at the charity concert, he said--You’re not going like it when I start losing my decency. Tell me, what it is he’s trying to tell me Yoongi”

I watched Yoongi take another sip off his cup, waiting for a reply.

“You know exactly what that means.”

Later that night, Y/N was allowed to come home and rest. The doctor didn’t have the need to admit her to the hospital, so did she. I drove the both of us home, allowing her to sleep the entire time.

She didn’t say a word upon getting out the car and walking into our home. I watched her walk towards her room almost entering it.

I grabbed her gently by the arm.

“Y/N. Please, let’s talk” she turned to me dully--a sight I didn’t want to get used to.

“Can’t it wait until morning?” Her voice sounded tired but I knew she was just avoiding the conversation. Again, she attempted to enter her room.

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” she didn’t answer but she didn’t move either.

“Why didn’t you call me, let me know you were in the hospital?” For the first time, I felt myself give in to the desperation inside me.

“Would it really have mattered if I did?” she said bluntly. 

“What do you mean?”

I gave her a puzzled look, hoping she would enlighten me a little bit more. She pulled the door back, closing it, finally facing me. A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

“Jin....I don’t think my heart can take it any much longer. I’m tired”

I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest.

“Y-y/N”

“The day we agreed to do this, I told myself over and over again that this was going to work. That we were going to be happy. I told myself--it may not be today or tomorrow but I know someday he will learn to love me. I told myself I would wait. If not today, maybe tomorrow. If not then the day after that--

But who were we kidding, Jin?” 

A single tear fell from her eyes as her face grimaced in pain, forcing a slight chuckle out her mouth, her eyes averting mine. I wanted to hold her, but she was so--far.

“It took me a long time to realize that our marriage was based on motive. It always begged you for reasons to stay. We were brought together for a purpose and not passion, Jin--

That’s when I realized, I was never going to find love in here, no matter how hard I look, no matter how hard I try--because even from the start, it was forced. We were forced. Love isn’t something that’s supposed to be forced. It’s a passion. It’s supposed to be natural--and that’s something we aren’t.....something we never will be--

I watched as she wiped her tears, trying to catch every single one of them

Now that I understand what we are and what we’re not....I think it’s best if we stick with the purpose of this marriage--and find our own passion--separately.”

Numbness started to consume my body, hearing her every word covered in hurt. I watched her walk away, shutting the door without one last glance at me. I wanted to shout, to gasp for air. I wanted to pull her back to me, look at her again, I wanted to touch those soft lips, caress her rosey cheeks--to feel her and know she’s here to stay. 

I felt my heart drop in a deep sea, suffocating in what felt like the end. 

For the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to be scared of losing you--the one thing that kept me floating, even when it meant drowning yourself. 

But I was losing you.

[you-didnt-see-that-cuming]

1,500 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

This is absolutely insane I am just blown away that this many people follow me and my weirdness...

Storms and Visitors Sirius Black x Reader by @notanotherausten “Regulus invites you at his house to stay for the night until the storm stops but Sirius has other plans.”

Strip Sirius Black x Reader by @blueelf “You agree to help Sirius study for his OWL’s, however what you failed to realize that tutoring the marauder was like babysitting. After various failed attempts, you finally find a way to keep Sirius somewhat focused and, interested.”

Frosting and Crushes Newt Scamander x Reader by @inkstainedfanfics “Newt has been distant the past week, focusing only on Tina and their work. You try to strike up conversation with him at dinner, but, after many failed attempts, grow irritated and leave early. Queenie decides to take matters into her own hands.”

Body Heat Sirius Black x Reader by @wizardwritings Reader is the younger sister of James and is in a relationship with Sirius.

Painkiller Sirius Black x Reader by @deerprongs Lilly gives Reader a potion to help her with her headache but ends up adding putting too much of an ingredient in that makes Reader loopy and giggly. Completed Series

Air B&E Bucky Barnes x Reader by @avengerofyourheart “When a mission requires close proximity with your least favorite teammate, you try to make the best of it, but a change in plans adds new challenges and possibly a new opportunity.”

Lost My Way Tom Holland x Reader by @intheheartoftomholland “Famous actor Tom Holland has been in the film industry for years now after making it big as Spiderman and he loses himself along the way.”

Being Pregnant With Steve Rogers’ Baby Steve Rogers x Reader by @fvckingsteverogers Basically an imagine...

The Bunkhouse Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes by @angryschnauzer “Bucky is backpacking through the Canadian Rockies when he decides to stay at a bunkhouse for the night. The only other guest is a loud and arrogant stranger by the name of Steve that does nothing except boast about his bravado and prowess. Its time for someone to take him down a peg or two.”

Incubus Bucky Barnes x Reader by @after-avenging-hours Basically sex demon Bucky begin a sex god.

Don’t Be Ashamed Newt Scamander x Reader by @fantasticnewtimagines Handicapped!Reader requires a cane to walk around and Newt is a sweetheart about it.

Urgent Care Avengers x Reader by @arrow-guy Reader brings Peggy to help diffuse the Civil War between Steve and Tony. Completed Series

Naked Bucky Barnes x Reader by @marvelous-fvcks “You accidentally walk in on Bucky as he gets ready for his date - completely naked - and your natural awkwardness only causes things to go from bad to worse. In an attempt to resolve the situation you get some of the worst advice from some of your friends who are no help whatsoever”

A Personal Connection Bucky Barnes x Reader by @sebastianstandoffish “Bucky may or may not have a crush on Steve’s PA.”

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What’s Between Us Steve Rogers x Reader by @bovaria “Reader breaks her arm during a mission so she has to stay in the tower to heal. After a while she gets really bored and glum so Steve takes her out to cheer her up.”

The Past On Your Doorstep Dean Winchester x Reader by @atwistoffate “After more than 4 years Dean knocks on your door, surprising the hell out of you. Then it’s his turn to be surprised when he sees a little girl standing next to you.”

Fire And Ice Bucky Barnes x Reader by @beccaanne814-blog Bucky has a crush on the Reader who is a nurse for the military.

Going To The Yule Ball With Sirius Sirius Black x Reader by @blueelf An imagine of what would happen if Reader were to go with Sirius to the Yule Ball.

Study Hard Sirius Black x Reader by @notanotherausten “Reader has been studying for hours and Sirius forces her to take a break.”

Newt Scamander Smut Newt Scamander x Reader by @13reasonswhyiblog “You and Newt had met at Hogwarts, and had both left a while ago, Newt left before you due to being expelled. But Professor Dumbledore had asked you both to return and fill temporary positions. You were going to teach DADA, and Newt, quite obviously was teaching Care of Magical Creatures”

The Smallest Moment Makes The Biggest Difference Newt Scamander x Reader by @captainhopelessromantik-808 Reader works at the ministry with Newt and he asks her out on a date.

Skewered Bucky Barnes x Reader by @avengemebuckyy “You’re a doctor for the avengers and when Bucky comes in with a hunk of metal in his side you find that it’s not his injury that’s making you sweat.”

You Good? Sam Wilson x Reader by @marvelfic “Reader works for Shield, more as a backup agent with the computers. She’s shy, but has a kind personality. She meets Sam one day buy getting shot at an attack on the Shield base and he helps her get away safely. Later they become friends and one day while running together she gets flustered by him and runs faster to hide her face but it causes her to loose her breath and when he catches up, she admits she likes him.”

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Soothing Newt Scamander x Reader by @omg-imatotalmess Reader helps Newt deal and tame his beasts.

Rescue Avengers x Reader by @theliteratureloser “Reader is getting a tour of her new job at the Avengers tower, but happens to be the only one who notices an oncoming jet, about to crash into the building.” Ongoing Series

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Drunk Love Bucky Barnes x Reader by @winter-childrens “Bucky is drunk and is very sweet and cute.”

The Perfect Prom Peter Parker x Reader by @icat8 “Prom has been more of a nightmare than the dream you hoped it would be. Thankfully, you have a friend like Peter.” Completed Series

My Fake Boyfriend Bucky Barnes x Reader by @supersoldierslover “After receiving a very rude letter of your ex on the mail saying that he is going to get married. You see yourself not knowing what to do, you can just let it go or accept the help of your hot neighbor and pretend he is your boyfriend.” Ongoing Series

My Hot Nerd Peter Parker x Reader by @ships4you “Peter comes back from his nightly shenanigans and finds his girlfriend waiting for him in his bedroom.”

Arsonist’s Lullaby Bucky Barnes x Reader by @soldatbarnes “Reader is a pyrokinetic, being sought after by both Hydra and the Avengers.” Ongoing Series

This Is War Bucky Barnes x Reader by @soldatbarnes “jealous!bucky where he tries to outdo the guy in everything and its just ridiculous and funny.” Ongoing Series

The Only Exception Bucky Barnes x Reader by @just-some-drabbles “Reader is given the task of running a popular love advice internet show when her coworker is fired. Her cynical attitude toward love makes her offer some harsh advice, and more than a few hearts are caught in the aftermath. Will hers be one of them?” Ongoing Series

The Friendly Wager Bucky Barnes x Reader by @just-some-drabbles “Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?” Ongoing Series

Guys My Age Bucky Barnes x Reader by @221bshrlocked “You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.” Ongoing Series

Cursebreaker Newt Scamander x Reader by @azurakenway Newt gets turned into a beast and needs Reader to kiss him in order to turn back into a human.

Weak When You’re Around Sirius Black x Reader by @lovelysiriuss “In which Sirius realizes he feels weak when he’s around her, but not knowing what to do about it.”

Untouched Bucky Barnes x Reader by @avasparks “The whole team is surprised to find out you’re still a virgin, and the news seems to make you more allegeable to some of the men around the compound. Bucky is no less surprised than the rest of the team, and finds it even harder to keep his eyes off you as he nurses a secret of his own, which he feels obliged to reveal to you after an incident in the training room.”

What Passengers Do In Private Sirius Black x Reader by @azurakenway Sirius gets a little possessive on the train to Hogwarts when another guy flirts with you.

Nightfall Sirius Black x Reader by @h4rtache “Gryffindor reader is feeling nervous about graduating when Young!Sirius comes to console her.“

My Girl Sirius Black x Reader by @wizardwritings Reader and Sirius spend a cold night in Hogsmeade.

Fat Bottomed Omega Dean Winchester x Reader by @melonshino *A/B/O Universe* SMUT SMUT SMUT

Golden Desire Sebastian Stan x Reader by @sebuckyverse “Watching Sebastian work on the set of ‘The Bronze’ is giving you a hard time.“

Let’s Pretend Bucky Barnes x Reader by @papi-chulo-bucky “Tony finds a website of two shape shifting mutant pornstars who make their living impersonating the Avengers on their website and decide to show the team.“ Completed Series

Comfortable Bucky Barnes x Reader by @oneshot-shit “Bucky being annoying can lead to fun times.“

My Beautiful Boy Bucky Barnes x Reader by @timeforsmut Submissive Bucky smut

The Elevator Jensen Ackles x Reader by @melissaj616 Elevator smut with Jensen

[headquartersforlievmuses]

► Norman Bates

Norman Bates was a smart, quietly funny, handsome and sometimes shy young man with an intensely close bond with his mother, Norma Bates. At the start of the series, Norman is resistant to starting over in a new town, but changes his mind as he begins to spread his wings. Over the course of the series, he slowly transforms into the iconic character depicted in Robert Bloch's popular novel and Alfred Hitchcock's film adaption of that novel, Psycho.

Norman lived in Arizona with his parents, Norma and Sam Bates. Norman killed Sam after his father beat Norma, but didn't remember the event afterwards. Norma made it look like it was an accident, where a shelf fell on Sam, in order to protect Norman.

After Norman found his father's body crushed under a shelf in their garage, the two remaining Bates moved to White Pine Bay. There, they planned to start a new life and run an old motel together. Soon after their move, Norman was befriended by Bradley Martin and Emma Decody.

The former owner of the motel, Keith Summers, believed that the property was rightfully his, and after stalking Norma, he then raped her. While rapping Norman, Norman comes in and saves her, but Norma then killed Summers out of rage. Norman and Norma covered up Summers' death by dumping his body in a river, but were still suspected by the town's sheriff, Alex Romero. 

One day, Dylan Massett showed up at Norma's doorstep, saying that he has no other place to stay. That night, Dylan got a call from Norma, who was programmed in his phone as "The Whore". Norman saw this, and confronted Dylan. A fight broke out between the two. Norman was easily overpowered by his older brother, who threatened to hurt him "bad" if he ever struck him again. Nevertheless, Norman grabbed a meat tenderizer and swung it at Dylan, who evaded it and gave Norman a black eye.

After spending the summer with his mother at the motel, Norman returned to school as a senior, but ran home after hallucinating Blaire Watson. Because of this, Norma decided to homeschool him. Dylan confronted her about letting Norman sleep in her bed, and, as a result, she set some boundaries which displeased him. She also decided to make him motel manager. Although Norman took an immediate interest in the motel's new guest, Annika, he decided to finally ask Emma out. That evening, Norma caught him spying on Annika showering through an open bathroom window. She berated him and he promised not to do it again. When Annika asked for directions into town, Norman offered to show her the way and while driving she told him about her work. He told her where to take a turn. Later, as Emma left the motel to return home, Norma arrived back with Annika's car but she was nowhere to be found. 

Norma became curious when Annika failed to return home, especially after Norman had lied about not being with her and Emma stating otherwise. Norman and Emma went on their date and discussed sex as an important step into adulthood. 

Norman awoke in a field, covered in cuts and arguing with "Mother". A farmer discovered him and knocked him out when Norman tried to attack him. Norman was transported to a psychiatric hospital with no idea of what he was doing there. A doctor informed Norman that she suspected Norman of being dangerous and wanted to keep him in for a 48-hour observation. However, Norma brought Norman home and while cutting his hair, Norman told her about the "dream" he had that she had killed Bradley. He made her promise not to send him back to the mental institution. Norma let him sleep in her bed but while she went out, he awoke to find himself locked in her room. Furious, he repeatedly banged on the door and managed to break through the door leading to his room. He put on Norma's nightgown and sat in front of the mirror, transforming into "Mother". When Audrey Decody called to the house, "Mother" answered the door and invited her in for tea. Audrey explained her situation and "Mother" asked her what kind of mother would abandon her own child before strangling her to death with her own scarf. 

Picking up over two years after the end of Season 4, Norman was busy running the motel on his own while also having his own struggles with "Mother", who was upset that she could not go outside. He told her the new shower curtains looked great in the motel and that he was heading into town to buy more paint. While in the hardware store, he met a young married woman named Madeleine Loomis. When he found that he had a wallet belonging to another man, he said he would pay later for the paint and rushed home where he enquired from "Mother" about the mystery wallet which he knew nothing about. He also checked his diary which contained a list of things he did during the day as well as his blackouts.

When a young man showed up at the motel requesting a room, Norman said that he could book one for the night. After the man checked into the room, Norman went into the motel office, removed the painting and spied on the man having sex with an unknown person. It appeared that he was masturbating until a phone call from "Mother" told him dinner was ready. Over dinner, they argued about how things were going and she got angry when he revealed that he had met Madeleine. Later he attempted to leave the house, only to be stopped by a clearly jealous "Mother", who then dragged him down to the basement and showed him a dead male stuffed in the freezer. Through flashback, it was revealed that the man had showed up intending to kill Norman but "Mother" got to him first. They decided to dump the body in the lake but as they were doing so, the man's cellphone rang and when Norman answered it, Romero was on the end of the line asking for the man. 

Norman is a bright young man and appears polite around others. He is also protective of Norma and feels guilty about disappointing her. He has lots of anger and occasionally lashes out at Norma or Dylan, but always comes to regret it due to his close and emotional bond with his mother. He also seems to feel a unhealthy sexual attraction to Norma.

Norman occasionally goes into a fugue state, during which time he attacks those who threaten Norma. He will then black out and not remember the event. For example, when Sam Bates beat Norma, Norman struck Sam in the head with a blender, but doesn't recall the ordeal. Norma made it look like a freak accident where a shelf fell on Sam. Another example is when Dylan Massett disrespected Norma. Norman tried to bludgeon him, but Dylan punched him. He didn't remember it and Dylan ended up telling him what happened. In the episode What's Wrong With Norman, while Norman is in bed, he sees a visual and auditory hallucination of Norma advising him to go search for Summers' belt at Deputy Shelby's house. While Norman really believes Norma told him to do so, Norma tells Norman in Trust Me that sometimes he imagines stuff that doesn't actually happen. In the episode The Man in Number 9, Norman is seen talking to himself as if in a dialogue after an argument with Bradley which is a sign of a psychotic episode. In the episode Midnight, Norman experienced a blackout between the time Miss Watson drove him to her home and he sees her undress herself inside her room and before the time he is running home from the rain. In addition, Norman had possession of Miss Watson's pearls but he doesn't remember acquiring it. All these evidence suggests that Norman is psychotic as he experiences many auditory and visual hallucinations and is unable to recall specific events beyond what is normal forgetfulness. In Norman's case, he does not remember his violent encounters almost immediately after they occur.

Cody drives Norman to Caleb's motel so they can beat him up. Norman recalls in his mind the time Norma confessed her brother used to force her into sex as a child. Norman then has a visual hallucination of Norma getting raped by Caleb. At the end of the episode, Norman heads to Caleb's place and takes full possession of Norma's character. In his Norma-mode, Norman accuses Caleb of raping him and says, “I was your little sister you should have protected me.” Norman's embodiment of his mother indicates that Norman possibly has Dissociative Identity Disorder as well.

Following his mother's death, half of Norman began to deny her death and after digging up her corpse he began to imagine "Mother" living with him in their own paradise, and as part of the delusion he saw her death as faked and that she had to live in isolation. Over the next two years the blackouts began to get out of control, as the episode Dark Paradise shows Norman looking through his diary in which he is recording the blackouts and they are getting far more frequent, to the point they happen at least once a week and for almost a whole day. The illusion of "Mother" starts to come into question when Norman is reminded by Dr. Edwards that he can see things that are not actually there. "Mother" eventually reveals to Norman that he indeed create her to combat horrible situations that he would otherwise be emotionally unequipped to confront by himself. It is later discovered that Norman had been hallucinating his meeting with Dr. Edwards when the later had reminded him about his hallucinations, since the doctor disappeared some time after Norma's death. By the time he confesses to Sam Loomis' murder, the "Mother" persona has completely taken over Norman.

Throughout the course of the series Norman has appeared to be very confused about the theme of sexuality. He has been seen sleeping with Cody Brennen, Bradley Martin and Blaire Watson, ultimately killing the latter two in his "Mother" persona. He also dated Emma Decody in order to make his mother jealous, although she advised him against sleeping with her which led to them splitting up. He spied on motel guest Annika Johnson while she was showering and confessed to Norma later on that he may have a sexual attraction to her.

Although he has never shown any physical attraction to members of the same sex, in the episode Shadow of a Doubt he attended a beach memorial where Cody's male friend attempted to touch his leg. When Cody told him that her friend was gay Norman insisted that he was not. However in the final season episode Dreams Die First, he was seen in a bar where all of the patrons appeared to know who he was and the bartender told him to take the drinking easy since things had been wild the night before. While in the restroom, an attractive man approached him and tried to kiss him, which led to him freaking out when he had a vision of "Mother" having sex with the man, leading to the conclusion that he had made several visits to the same bar in his "Mother" persona in the year and a half following Norma's death.

Killings

Sam Bates (unknowingly): Hit over the head with a blender.

Blaire Watson (unknowingly): Throat slit. 

Jimmy Brennen (accidental): Pushed down a flight of stairs.

Bradley Martin (unknowingly): Head bashed repeatedly on a rock. 

Audrey Ellis (unknowingly): Strangled with her own scarf. 

Norma Bates: Carbon monoxide poisoning.

Gregg Edwards (unknowingly): Killed through unknown means.

Jim Blackwell (unknowingly): Stabbed repeatedly 

Sam Loomis: Stabbed repeatedly. 

Alex Romero: Bludgeoned with a rock, then shot twice in the chest.

Verses

tba