#in other news i Did get a start on organizing the garage AND the bedroom. even moved a dresser and weight bench

[doctor-cunt-phd]

every so often i have the odd 'man i should get medicated' thought. but then of course how would decades old gifsets find their way back into the fandom ecosystem?

[justmochi]

nursery

pairing :: eden x evelyn

word count :: 2.1k

synopsis :: eden decides to surprise evelyn by renovating evangeline's nursery.

time :: december 24, 2023

warnings :: just some feel good fluff!

a/n :: eden goes full HDTV!!!

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @ateezjuliet @fromfreesia @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor @multiplums @alixnsuperstxr @meginthebuilding2727 @kang-ulzzang @hybesunstone @allthings-fandoms @itzy-eve @choihaneul @strmiu @angie-x3 @Kaitieskidmore1 @evaalopezzzz

Evelyn was four days out from having Evangeline. It was two days before they were released from the hospital. Now, everyone was working to fit into their new routine with a newborn in the house.

She doesn’t know how her husband did it, but he managed to convince Eden to move into the guest bedroom. The girl never wanted to intrude or be a bother to them, so Evelyn didn’t press any further. There was still a little bit of insecurity lingering in the back of Eden’s mind when it came to her brother in law. He was too desperate, knowing how good of a support system she was for both him and her. They would need all the help they could get.

Another night with very little sleep, Eden woke up with an agenda for the day. As soon as the sunlight started to peek in through the windows, she showered and dressed comfortably. Both Noah and Evelyn had been occupied with the baby ever since they came home and she wanted to do something nice for the both of them.

The nursery had never been properly complete, not having known their baby’s gender. They may have gone a bit overboard when picking things out for the room. Eden knew they probably wouldn’t use it too often but she still felt like making everything look cute.

Heading to the closet, she started with the clothes. She picked out the baby blue clothes and set them aside. She decided that blue items would be in the bottom drawer in case they ever needed it. She came across socks, her heart aching from how tiny and adorable they were. She rolled up the clothes, making them fit into the two bottom drawers of the dresser. Eden didn’t realize just how many clothes this child had.

Eden had assisted her sister in making a board of baby decor and organization, so she had an idea of what she wanted to do.

“Hey kiddo, whatcha doing?” Eden snapped her head to see Noah in the doorway, leaning against the door with his mug of coffee.. She exhaled, getting off her bottom and standing up.

“I was feeling restless and wanted to help finish the nursery, since we know she’s a she now.” She swiped her forehead of the hairs in her face.

“Really? You didn’t have to do that. We were gonna get around to it eventually.��

“No, it’s okay. I wanted to surprise you both but…”

“I can pretend I never saw anything.” He rubbed his eyes, soon squinting them.

“Actually, I could use your help. Do you know where all the baby supplies are? I wanna organize the rolling cart.”

Even though he was visibly worn out, he was still smiling and wanted to offer all he could. “We have it all in the garage. I can bring you everything you need.”

“Of course. Just don’t let Ev see you.”

“They’re both out, but it won’t be too long before we have to feed her again.”

He managed to quietly grab all the supplies to the nursery, watching Eden sort everything out with each trip he made.

“Thank you. Try not to let her come in here, tell her I’m sleeping in or something.” They both spoke softly to each other.

“Gotcha. Just message me if you need anything else.”

Eden nodded, watching him shut the door behind him before getting to work. She put in one ear phone, playing some of her relaxing music as she unwrapped everything. She was surprised to see storage dividers in the bags. Noah actually brought in everything.

The top drawer was divided into sections, starting with diapers, then creams, wipes, pacifiers, and a whole bunch of other stuff that she didn’t know the purpose for. She stored extra diapers, wipes, swaddles, and blankets into the rolling cart. The dresser and cart was done and she was excited to move on to actually implementing the color pink into the room.

She opened the closet, surprised to see even more stuff that was bought for the baby. She reached for a random bag, noticing the separate pink and blue flowers designed for the mobile. She started by hanging up the pink roses, giving it a good spin and smiling to herself. She was relieved to find most of what she needed was already in the closet, folded on a shelf. She removed the tiny mattress from the crib, fitting on a baby pink sheet and placing it back where it belonged. She placed the Krunk plush in the corner, folding the soft blankets with him as well. She hung the pale blush curtains on a rod, feeling the sun beam into the room.

It was almost noon and she had been at work for three hours. She moved closest to the door, getting a good view of the entire room. It looked very cozy, but something was still missing.

Eden snuck downstairs, making it to the foyer before her sister caught her.

“Where are you going?” She looked saddened.

“I just have a few things to pick up at the dorms. Want me to bring back some food?” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Oh yes please!”

Eden never imagined she would find herself in the crafts store, but here she was, venturing each aisle to find anything that would seem fit to decorate a nursery with. She didn’t find much, at least not what her sister would like. She did find pink 3D butterflies to scatter across the wall.

She texted Noah before she left the parking lot, telling him to distract her with the takeout while she took her items upstairs to finish later.

Eden first brought in the takeout rice cakes, watching Evelyn practically drool over them. She headed back out to the car, sneaking upstairs and hiding the bag in the closet. She rushed back down as if she didn’t do anything, joining the two to eat as her sister rocked Evangeline in her arm. She was amazed by how well she multitasked.

Shortly after Evelyn finished feeding Evangeline again, her and her baby started dozing off. Eden gestured Noah into the kitchen so they wouldn’t wake the two girls.

“I’m almost done. Wanna help me add the finishing touches?” She whispered, folding her hands together at her chest.

He didn’t waste a breath, following Eden upstairs. She pushed the nursery door open and watched as his face lit up.

“You…you did all of this?” His eyes were wide as he toured the room, pulling the dresser drawers out and back in. “This is amazing.”

“Do you think she will like it?” She asked, unsure of herself. She may have gotten too into it, forgetting whose child she was actually decorating for.

“She’s gonna love it. I love it. Thank you, Eden.” He rubbed the exhaustion from his face with his hands, opening up his arms to her.

“Don’t mention it.” She hugged him, patting his back before letting go. “I got these butterflies. And some blossom petals. I thought they would be cute on that wall.” She pointed with a smile.

The two scattered the butterflies and petals across one wall. It really brought everything together, and even Eden was proud of her work. If being an idol didn’t work out for her, she would want to be a renovator.

“Eva will be waking up soon. After she gets fed, do you want to show her?” He looked towards her.

“Yep.” Eden put her hands on her hips, noting his nickname for his daughter. “We make a great team, don’t you think?”

He nodded, raising his hand. She gave him a high five before he started gathering up everything that needed to be thrown away.

“I’ll be down. I want to take a few pictures.”

He nodded, giving the room one last nod of approval before shutting the door behind him.

Eden studied the room, making sure everything was perfect and adjusting anything that threw her off. She took her phone out of her pocket, snapping pictures that she’d eventually send to the girls and Seokmin when she finally laid down. She felt pretty accomplished, needing to see her sister’s reaction right away.

She came down the stairs, seeing Evelyn fitting a small baby hat on Evangeline's head. Noah looked like he had just sat down, not getting comfortable too soon.

Eden plopped down across from them, tucking her legs under her and smiling. “How’s she doing?”

Evelyn held her, tucking her hairs under the hat before kissing her forehead. “She’s just the best baby ever. She’s just so perfect.”

Eden and Noah shared looks, her sister taking obvious note. “What? Why are you looking at each other like that?”

“Oh nothing. We just have a surprise for you.” Eden smiled.

“More like Eden has a surprise.” He rolled his eyes.

“What did you do?” She stared her sister down like she was scheming something evil.

“Just a little something.”

“I swear to god if you spent money–”

“Don’t you want to see it?” Eden pushed herself off the sofa, crossing her arms.

“Of course I want to see it. What is it?” She looked back and forth between the two.

Noah stood up, holding his hand out. She was alert, taking his hand as he helped her up. She winced a bit, currently feeling the after effects of childbirth as the medicine wore off. She cradled Evangeline to her chest as he kept a steady hand on her elbow and back.

Eden led the way upstairs, taking each step slow as Evelyn waddled her way behind her.She reached the top, holding her hand out just in case she needed it.

“What is it? You two are scaring me.”

Noah led her to the door of the nursery, noticing the letter E that had not been there before.

“Shut up.” Evelyn snapped her neck towards her sister, making sure not to disturb Evangeline.

“Surprise!” Eden reached for the doorknob, twisting it and pushing it open.

Evelyn covered her mouth with her free hand, taking slow steps inside the room. She gasped as her eyes went wide, studying each and every detail that Eden had put into rearranging the nursery that morning.

“Oh my god.”

“Do you like it?” Eden leaned against the doorframe, watching them go over everything.

She was quiet for a second, worrying Eden until she turned around to face her. Tears were actively falling down her cheeks, trying not to cry.

“Do I like it? I love it…” She sniffed, bringing the sleeve of her sweater to her eyes. Noah rubbed circles on her back as he smiled. “You did all of this?”

“Well, most of it. I figured if I was going to be staying here that I should make myself useful.”

Evelyn pouted, running her fingers across the wood of the crib, in awe of the butterflies scattered across the wall. “Eden…”

She couldn’t keep her own tears at bay when she said her name. She watched her slowly circle, eyeing as many things as she could. She reached for the dresser drawers, pulling each of them out and finally letting the sobs escape. “Eden.”

“Don’t cry! At least not while saying my name.”

“I don’t know what to say… I love it! Thank you so much.” Evelyn waddled like a penguin to her sister, giving her a half hug with Evangeline in her other arm. “Eden…It’s perfect.”

“You’re welcome.” Eden wiped her sister's tears before looking down at Evangeline. She looked perfectly content with her pacifier.

Evelyn stretched down to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead. “Don’t you just have the best aunt ever? You are so loved.”

To everyone’s surprise, Evangeline began to murmur, as if in agreement to what Evelyn said.

“Isn’t she precious?” Evelyn cried, looking up with tears coating her lashes.

Eden nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leaned down to get a closer look at the baby. “And you’re the best niece ever.”

Her eyes squinted as she began to smile, squirming in her moms arms.

“You two are gonna be best friends.” Noah spoke from behind, smirking to himself.

Evelyn kissed her forehead once more, offering her to Noah. “Why don’t you go to daddy?” Eden did not miss the wink she threw in her direction.

She locked arms with her sister, squeezing as they both watched the scene unfold. Noah made goofy faces to Evangeline as he supported the back of her head. He nuzzled his nose against her cheek before he ever realized what was going on. Evelyn snorted, trying her best to hold back her laugh when the foul odor finally hit him.

“Sweetie…” He whined to Evelyn.

“Honey…It’s your turn to change her now.”

Eden quickly plugged her nose with her fingers, hiding her face in her sisters shoulder as they both laughed at him.

[princelegacy]

Gen 1 Sul Sul Mag #01: Lee and June

An unfinished knitting project sits atop the fireplace. Lee says it inspires him, "I hope I never run out of projects". The project in question was not his, but his late mother's, who passed from old age a few days ago. The first week of spring came with the loss of both his parents, but also, ironically, with the news that a baby was on the way.

Lee Prince started his Young Adult life by quitting his fast food job, that same day he got a job as an assistant dishwasher at a fancy restaurant in Magnolia Promenade. His whole life has been like this: impulsive decisions with the determination to follow through when it doesn't pan out like he expected. He got his first job flipping burgers because he wanted to buy cigarettes with his own money, that same week his uncle was diagnosed with throat cancer. So he quit smoking, but not his job.

June comes out of a different door every two minutes carrying boxes to the empty garage. When Lee tells her to take a rest, for the baby's sake she just laughs. "And let you organize this junk?" Once she leaves, Lee confesses that she's right, half the time he can't find anything he needs because he's put it away in a different room altogether.

When June comes back, Lee offers us a glass of a surprisingly delicious lemonade. He's been studying mixology in his free time in order to get a better job at his restaurant. And he's going to need it: his bills are about four times what he's become used to. That's because the house they're moving into is his parents' old home, a duplex with three bedrooms and three bathrooms, plus a large garage and basement that used to house a car that has since been sold to pay for new furniture.

There's something purifying about watching Lee and June work together. Even though both his parents died this week, and even though she's on the second trimester of a surprise pregnancy, and even though the house they are moving into is massive, they make it seem like it's second nature to them. And there is a particular joy in the process of adaptation.

Lee was born late in his parents' Adult age, so that meant he wasn't going to have any siblings and he was going to interact mostly with adults. He learned fast what he needed to do to be included at the adults' table. "My dad used to joke that I was having whole conversations in my sleep before I learnt how to talk." June erupts with laughter at the anecdote, she hadn't heard it before.

June, on the other hand, is the youngest of four, but she doesn't see her siblings that much. "We were never that close... we've all got different dads," she recounts as she makes room for a baby crib in the master bedroom, the closet might be unusable for a few days but at least the baby's close to the bed. "Lee's dad was the complete opposite of mine. I don't know how good of a parent I'll be, but at least I know Lee won't screw it up."

She describes her situation as a once in a lifetime opportunity. "At first it was just a silly mistake, Lee wanted to show off his mixology skill to me. We must've drunk four drinks each, and he was trying his best to be smooth about it. He said he had a crush on me, that he always did... and well anyway that was the night when I got pregnant." Lee's face turns bright red as she speaks.

"We didn't know at first, we just decided to go on an actual date to Geek Con. I ended up puking while playing with the game mat. I though it was something I ate from the San Myshuno stalls, but he knew right away." "I just got her a test! We'd been too drunk to use protection!"

The last thing he unpacks is his gaming console. His parents' TV is huge compared to the tiny one he had inherited into his rental a few houses away. They quickly sit down and fire up a new game of MySims Racing. It's their favorite game.

"We're thinking Travis if it's a boy, Poppy if it's a girl."

As far as marriage goes, it's not in their plans. Both of them agree that they're too young to settle down. "Our best friends just got married and it seems like they're gonna get divorced before spring is over. They got kids, too. We're gonna see if it works, and then maybe we'll consider it," June explains.

When asked if he's nervous about the future, Lee just chuckles "Are you kidding? I was born to be a dad."

- Foundry Cove, Spring Gen 1.

[ozma914]

Oodles of Books: the Gift That Keeps On Reading

"If the Beast gave me a library like he gave to Belle, I'd marry him too." -- Aya Ling

 So, my wife's bosses were going through storage units, and had to sort through all the books their daughter collected over the years. Some were damaged, but they offered to give Emily and me most of the rest. Their daughter, they said, read a lot.

Not long after, they filled our Ford Escape with so many books I was afraid it would bottom out on every hill on the way home. A few days later, they did it again. Then again.

Mountains of books! Forests of books! More books than you'd ever read in a lifetime!

Ahem. If you'll pardon me for quoting Beauty and the Beast. I may have cried a little. I also may have cried a little while we were carrying them all up the steps into the house, but enough about my back.

It was Emily who had to clean up the books because, as it happens, I'm allergic to both dust and mold. Never thought I'd be glad about that. But I forgot, and later when I was cleaning our former bedroom/new reading room (our own library!) I gave myself an allergy attack. Too bad--eight hours of sleeping off the Benadryl, when I could have been reading.

Freaking scads of books! 

We're still sorting them, by author and genre. Authors like me, who don't stick to a genre, will be a problem. But many of them were novel series (love a good series), which helped. We unfolded a table and Emily got started while I was cooking and doing the dishes, which is completely understandable when you realize how much more organized her mind is than mine.

Really, the only member of the family who wasn't thrilled was the dog. (This all happened before Beowulf passed away.) When we first put up the table he liked to lay down under it, but as we unpacked more books that space became filled, too. Sometimes he just walked up to the table and looks sadly at his former doghouse.

"I am NOT amused. I can't even read."

A large percentage of the books are what's called high fantasy, which I take it are better enjoyed when you're high. Wait, let me check ...

Oh. Well, it means epic in scope, with forces threatening a world that is not our own. Game Of Thrones stuff, and didn't it take us a whole year to read through those massive tomes. The novel I wrote (and am currently trying to sell) is low fantasy: mostly set in the real world, with the addition of magical elements. Now we're talking about Harry Potter and the Giant Dump Truck of Money.

Many others are space opera, again similar to another novel in my submission process. Think Dune, the Lensman books, and of course Star Wars. (My Junior English teacher in high school was the daughter of E.E. Smith, who authored the Hugo-nominated Lensman series. Fun old-timey SF, and possibly an inspiration for the Green Lantern.)

There are also history books, mostly involving World War II, which made me squeal a little. Okay, a lot. There are mysteries, and both nonfiction and fiction books about horses, and encyclopedia yearbooks covering all the earlier years of my life and some before. We have our own library of books--something I always dreamed of.

I took this photo to document that someone decided to leave their shampoo behind, and buy a book instead. If you never leave your couch, you don't need shampoo.

It all made me a little sad.

Let's face it: even if I gave up writing and put all my spare time into reading, there's no way I'll ever get to all these books, plus the ones I already have, plus the ones on my reading list. We've still got books in boxes in the garage. I've got friends writing books that I want to read. It makes me want to retire to a rustic cabin in the woods and just become one with a comfortable chair.

Still, just having all those books up on shelves around us will cheer me up substantially, and better too many than not enough. With books, I may never go anywhere again--but I'll go everywhere.

That's a pretty good way to spend your time.

Remember: Every time you don't read a book, the author has an allergy attack. Keep authors healthy.

We and our books--I mean, the ones we wrote--can be found everywhere:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

[storiesofsvu]

Classified Affairs Ch 6

Heather Dunbar x fem!reader Warnings: language, smut, masturbation, sex toys, mommy kink.

It took a couple of weeks, nearly a month honestly, for everything to get set up and feeling like a home again in your condo. You discovered that the partial furnished state of is was yours to keep, though Heather was quick to remind you that if it wasn’t your style, you were more than able to toss it and she would set you up with something different. She showed up at your studio to see what things you currently did have, and what she deemed appropriate to move to the new location, and you had to admit, it was a little intimidating, you were worried about how hard she would judge your stuff.

However, she was a little bit gentle about it, especially as you explained that you’d either picked up things through various roommates apartments over the years, or just been stuck with shit as other roommates moved out. She tutted at the fact that you only had a double bed, saying she would be getting you a queen for the new place, and had you go through a couple of interior design magazines to have you circle what type of style and things you liked so that she could have similar ones shipped over to the condo. She made sure you had everything you could need for the kitchen, filling the condo’s cupboards with a brand new cookware set in an adorable lavender shade. You found little things here and there as you started to move your stuff in, an air purifier set up in the living room, a humidifier tucked in the bedroom closet, a set of your preferred skin care items in the bathroom (doubled in size and with new ones that she clearly recommended) and the most luxury sets of towels and sheets.

Heather wanted to pay for movers to help you and you insisted that all you had to do was bat your eyelashes at a couple of the kitchen guys who owned trucks and you wouldn’t have to do an inch of heavy lifting. You assured her that the most it would cost you was a large pizza and a couple of six packs and she finally backed down. She did however send over someone to help you put together any and all furniture items that she had delivered for you.

The last thing she did was reread through the contract, double checking what kind of kinks and sexual play you were in to. It was after that that she made an order of toys, varying through ones she knew you’d like, ones you could use on your own, and ones that she wanted to use on you. As much as she had her own little box stashed away at home, there were certain things that she couldn’t have being found on her person without arising suspicions. You didn’t pay too much mind to the box in the closet, knowing that they were more for the both of you, but she did encourage you to try out the vibrator and dildo in she’d left in the bedside table, giving you the permission to come if you did so. She’d also left a small set of jewelled plugs in there as well, knowing you had a very large interest in those as well.

You weren’t surprised when you pulled open a drawer of your dresser to toss in some clothes to find it filled with various colours and styles of lingerie. It was meticulously organized and you made a mental note of what she expected as to not piss her off in the future. Heather liked things neat and tidy, so you knew to try and keep the condo as organized as possible. All of your surprise gifts made you realize that she definitely had a key, and would be stopping by whenever she pleased. You thought back to her words when you’d viewed the place, ‘I own the right to fuck you where and whenever I’d like.’

Heather did stop by once or twice, sometimes just to check up, once was to drop off the keys to your new car that was placed the in the garage. It wasn’t a fancy model, something you were more used to, and there was no Dunbar logo on it anywhere, but she’d left a gift card in the cup caddy for you to fill up on gas. She also strictly reminded you that you were not to be out after eleven p.m. on the subway, that if you needed to pay for parking at work or somewhere that you were to contact her and she would give you a bonus. She wanted you safe after all. She also mentioned that if you went out after work, she would cover your uber home and back to wherever your car was the next morning.

You got your first experience at a punishment when you came home at one a.m to find her waiting for you. You’d told Heather you were going straight home but had been roped into drinks and pool with a couple of the other servers. On top of that, she hadn’t been impressed with the only thing in your food log for the day being an order of chicken tenders. She tsk’d, ordering you to get a glass of water and a power bar into you before she stripped you down, spanking you until you were quivering in her lap. You thought relief was coming when her fingers plunged into you, but she simply edged you three times before abruptly halting, telling you to get into bed. (Though she did make sure you had a Gatorade and a little snack to help you out). The next morning a plentiful and healthy breakfast was delivered to ensure that you started your day off right.

Thanks to the weekly allowance, you were able to drop one of your jobs, choosing to quit the nightclub, it had shitty management and honestly you didn’t like it. You kept your days at Salt Line, raking in the cash from the government officials, and you genuinely enjoyed Shaw’s Tavern, it was up near the Howard University, so it was lots of beer slinging and joking around with students. Laid back enough to not every feel in the weeds, but busy enough that you made pretty decent tips.

Between dropping a job, rearranging your schedules at the other two, and the convenience of having a car, you were able to have a couple of days off a week to actually enjoy life now. Which, you were incredibly thankful considering Heather dropped by more often than not, or a car would show up to take you to dinner. You had to admit, the companionship was great, you enjoyed the different world of conversations you could have with Heather, and she definitely knew all the best spots in town for dinner or signature drinks. And there was no way in hell you would ever complain about the sex, Heather was showing you things you didn’t even know about, things that you weren’t sure you would be into, but once her hands (or mouth) were on your body, you were a shaking mess underneath her absolutely begging for more.

You’d been a little concerned with the monitoring and checking in, worried that it might feel like she was a controlling parent, but she usually left you to your own devices, and it wasn’t that she was forcing you into workouts you didn’t want to do, or criticizing your eating habits. She was just making sure you were eating, taking care of yourself, and in the end, you honestly were feeling a million times better. Your mind was more clear and at ease without having to worry about money constantly, you were no longer completely exhausted from working three jobs that you began to enjoy working out again. And having a kitchen complete with fresh delicious food, proper cookware, and an actual dishwasher made things a world easier than before. Your entire physical and mental wellbeing was a million times better than it had been on the day you’d been freaking out over the no tip table of assholes, when Heather had taken you under her wing.

**

You were relatively fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a silky robe as you padded through your apartment to the kitchen, making a small snack along with your smoothie when your phone pinged. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, figuring it was work, though part of you wasn’t surprised when it was Heather.

‘I saw you tried out soul cycle earlier. How was that?’ You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you tossed a banana into the blender.

‘Crap. But one of the new girls at work wanted someone to go with her.’

‘Hmm. Are you home now? I can’t see your stats kitten.’

‘Fuck. Sorry M’am, I took it off for my shower.’

You darted back to the bathroom, making sure the watch was back on your wrist and fully charged before you moved back to your food and phone.

‘Good girl. You are off today, correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I have plans for you.’

‘Oh?’ You felt your body tense at her words, your hand clenching around your glass as you waited for her response.

‘Get pretty for me.’ She referenced about your hair and makeup, ‘and then put one of those pretty plugs in for me.’

‘Yes M’am.’

You quickly sucked back what was left of the smoothie, bringing your phone with you to the bathroom as you did a face of makeup as quickly as you could. Luckily your hair was still done from work, just pulled back out of the water’s way. You fluffed at it a bit, making sure it looked decent before you moved back to the bedroom. You dropped your robe, settling on the bed as you picked up the smallest of the blue jewelled plugs out of the bedside table you grabbed the bottle of lube, coating both it and your body with it. You let out a small moan as the plug slipped into you, letting it settle against your cheeks before you reached for your phone.

‘And now?’

‘Show me.’

Your cheeks heated, but Heather had made sure there was a large enough mirror across from the foot of your bed that anything she wanted to see would be readily available. You positioned both yourself and your phone appropriately to give her what she wanted, shooting a handful of photos before you sent a couple off to her.

‘Fuck you’re gorgeous.’

‘Thank you M’am.’

‘I left a light pink set for you the other day. Put it on. And get the dildo in the bedside table.’

‘Of course Mommy.’

You first changed into the set, admiring the way the lace patterned against your skin, the bra was a mini half bodice type, covering more of your rib cage, the cups of the bra pushing your tits up, the curve of your breasts bouncing as you moved through the room. You took a few minutes to show that you were in it, shooting those pictures off to Heather.

*

“Fuck” Heather swore quietly, the sight of you in the lingerie doing more to her than she originally thought it would.

Obviously she found you incredibly attractive, otherwise she never would have even entertained the idea of your arrangement, much less followed through on it. She had been pleasantly surprised with how well you’d received things, she knew that there were quite a few dynamics that she was into that not many others were, hell, it was half the reason why she had the affairs she did. Sure, she loved her husband, and while he was enough to get by in life with, she craved more, she craved the control, the power, the complete and ultimate surrendering of a partner to her that made her search out more.

While her original intentions of this text conversation was to get you hot and bothered, her second intent had been to get herself off, more than happy that she was working from home today, already in the bedroom by the time she’d sent the first text.

‘God you look delectable kitten.’

‘Thank you Mommy.’

Your response summoned an intake of breath from her as she felt a tingle run through her body. Heather always adored being called Mommy, but no one kept consistent with it in the same way you did, none of her previous pets had ever welcomed it so easily and used it so regularly. You were so fucking obedient it made her want you even more, but she had a strict rule to keep herself at arms length, to be the one fucking you, to never let you fuck her. Instead, she simply reached for her phone again, typing another message to you.

‘You’re welcome kitten. Now…are you wet enough to start to fuck that cock? Or do you need to play with yourself a bit first.’

‘I’m practically dripping M’am.’

Heather swore not so quietly this time, biting at her lip as she dropped back onto the pillows of her bed, her fingers slipping down to her pussy as she started to toy at her clit.

‘Well then why don’t you show Mommy how good you are at riding cock? Pull those pretty panties to the side, let me watch it disappear into you.’

It took a couple of minutes but Heather got what she wanted (she always did…) a few photos of you riding the toy, it suctioned down neatly while you bounced upon it, your hands on varying places of your body, clutching at your tits, running up your throat as your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation.

‘You know better than to come, right?’ She typed out as her fingers slipped deeper into her, toying with the juices leaking out of her.

‘Yes M’am.’

‘Good girl. Now. Take off the top, I want to see those pretty tits bounce.’

Again, a moment passed before her phone buzzed, but this time she let out a groan at the sight of a video, you, braced on the bed as you rode the toy. The lacy pink thong still pushed to the side, your tits swaying with each bounce, your eyes fluttering with each plunge down onto the cock. Heather let out a moan the sight of your wetness coating the toy, her fingers delving into her pussy, pumping quicker and quicker, curling perfectly as she brought herself to her peak. Though it was the breathless moans, the little whimpers escaping your lips the sound of her name coming from your mouth, the ‘oh fuck Mommy, you feel so fucking good’, that made her pussy clench around her fingers, her release dribbling out onto the bedspread beneath her. She panted for a second, catching her breath, her head rolling over when her pone buzzed again.

‘I do love this but you fuck me so much better Mommy….can I please see you soon?’

Heather smirked, chuckling as she rolled over on the bed.

‘I’ll be there tonight kitten. And I want you to tease yourself until then. Keep edging yourself, but you are in no way allowed to come, understood?’

‘Of course. You’re in charge.’

‘Good. Cause Mommy wants you drenched and dripping when she gets there. I’m going to teach you how to squirt tonight.’

*

You couldn’t help but let out the frustrated whine at Heather’s text as you sunk down onto the toy once more. All you wanted to do was come. Your entire body was shivering, begging for it, though you knew if she was here, teasing and edging you, things would be one hell of a world worse. Instead you simply rode the toy a few more times, your cunt clenching around it before you let out a whimper. Knowing you were too close, you pulled off it, dropping back onto the bed panting. You could at least use a little bit of time to recover, but you knew Heather meant it when she said she wanted you dripping when she arrived, so you’d have to prepare for whatever she had prepared for you tonight.

__________ @lesbianologist @screenee @1000spices @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @laurenhope13 @imlike-so-gaydude @svulife-rl @gay-ass-bitch @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @paulson-hargitay @molllss @snowsgay19 @solemnnova @svushots @nocreditinthestraightworld @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @thatgaygiraffesquirrelgirl @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @rosiewritesagain @imaginaryoperagloves @wandasbrat @lustvolle-liebe @Dun-duns @disn3y7 @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @swimmingstudentchaos891 @anne-gillettes-wh0r3 @season4scullyhair @whimsicallymad @alexusonfire @mmmmokdok

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.5)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Five) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 3,059 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior Author’s Note: I’m not sure if this is the last part but I’m leaning towards it.

Part Four || Part Six || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Five and a half months ago…

Tony blinked against the sun as they left the news station. Y/N had facilitated a project, along with others, to bring seniors more fresh produce in their Meals on Wheels local program. She was excited about the project and Tony honestly could not give two shits about it but if it made her happy, he was happy to be there with her. He loved seeing the joyous smile on her face and her enthusiasm talking about it.

His hand was wrapped tightly around her waist as they walked out towards his car. And his smile only faltered when he spotted a familiar face in the crowd across the street. And a face he did not want to be seeing in public like this. And they were staring directly at him, like they had been waiting for him.

Tony turned to Y/N and whispered in her ear, “I need to go to the restroom.”

“We were just inside,” she jested. “Why didn’t you go then?”

“I didn’t have to go then. Here.” He opened the door for her, letting her get in. “I’ll be right back.”

To Happy, he whispered, “Fabian.”

“What do you want me to do?” Happy asked quietly, keeping his sights on Tony and not being obvious.

“Stay here with Y/N. I’ll be right back.”

“Boss—”

“He’s not going to lay a finger on me.” Tony said and Happy looked at him disbelieving. Tony was being overconfident about it and he knew it but he could not accept lowlifes trying to approach him in public like this. “Stay here with her. I’ll be back.”

Tony walked away from the car, moving back down the sidewalk. He spotted Fabian moving through it and he smirked to himself. He walked past the news station doors, and down the immediate alley.

He was waiting when Fabian entered the alley, standing dead center, hands in his pockets. If looks could smite, Fabian would have burned on the spot. “What makes you think you can come up to me in public?”

“You haven’t been returning my calls I’ve been leaving!”

“Yeah and for good reason. You’re unhinged!”

“That wasn’t my—"

Tony stepped closer, spitting, “You listen closely, Fabian, I am done with you and your bullshit! You are done. Do you get that? You had your chance and you fucked up. And I cannot be seen in public with you. You know that though. You squeal to anyone and you won’t just have me after you, you’ll have the whole city gunning for you with how many people are tied to it and you will. not. win. If you ever come up to me in public again – especially when I’m out with my wife – I will kill you on the spot.”

Tony straightened out his jacket before storming away from the man who was staring at him slack jacked. Tony did not give him a moment to respond before he was around him and striding back down the alley.

When he got into the car, Y/N was none the wiser.

She was immediately back into conversation, talking about what good this interview was going to do for the project and thanking him for coming along with her. Tony smiled sweetly, listening intently. His adoration for her wove deeply. He truly had recovered a true gem from the rabble.

<><><>

You stared at the door in bewilderment before touching it again. F.R.I.D.A.Y. repeated, “You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

“Excuse me?” you word vomited.

“Do you need me to repeat the message, Mrs. Stark?”

You hated how calm F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded.

“Override,” you tried.

“You do not have authorization to do that, Mrs. Stark.”

“Why can’t I go outside?”

“Mr. Stark blocked access at this door.”

You let out a frustrated noise before turning away from the door. You walked to the bedroom door, feeling the ache but you had to know. You walked down the stairs, taking them slowly. You went to the closest patio door, gripping the handle tightly.

“You are not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

Breathing heavily through your nose, trying to keep yourself calm, you turned your head eyeing the next patio door.

Her voice was becoming quickly annoying. “You’re not authorized to open this door, Mrs. Stark.”

You took off around the mansion, trying all the doors leading to the outside but you got the same code when it read your fingerprint. You made your way to the front door, the door to the garage, out to the garden. It was all the same message. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, it sinking in that you were locked inside.

The thought of the kitchen door out to the pool came to you and you moved as quickly as you could there. You stalled seeing Happy standing in there, cutting an apple. He stilled seeing you and you did not miss the sly look he gave you as you moved through the kitchen, past the island where he was standing.

The same goddamn message.

You whipped around and stared at Happy.

“Let me out!” you demanded.

“I can’t override what the boss has inputted into the security system. You know that,” Happy said in passive tone, looking completely indifferent to how worked up you were.

“Where is he?”

“He left earlier.”

“Well, did he happen to mention to you why he was locking me inside?” you exasperated, throwing your hands out at your sides.

Happy sucked at his teeth, leveling you with a serious look. “Y/N, do you really need to be asking me that? Truly?”

You bit your cheeks to avoid shouting at him and forced yourself to turn on your heel and storm out of the room away from him. You made your way back up the stairs, going for your bedroom where your cell was waiting on the bedside table. Snatching it off the table, you pressed Tony’s name.

“Yes, kitten?” he answered calmly.

“Your stupid AI won’t let me out!” you exclaimed.

“Yeah, I programmed that this morning.”

“You…,” you started to argue but then your voice went up a notch, trying to whine. “Daddy, you can’t keep me locked in here!”

“Can’t or shouldn’t? Because it looks like I’m already doing it, so I apparently can,” Tony replied coolly.

“You shouldn’t then!” You added for good measure quickly, “Please!”

Tony’s tone was firm when he told you, “I think I very well should. You crossed a lot of lines and I am not fucking around when I tell you that they were lines that shouldn’t be crossed. You brought this on yourself, Y/N. Maybe if you spent less time throwing tantrums and more time listening to me, you wouldn’t have found yourself here. And hopefully you won’t again. I certainly hope you won’t again. I know you can do better.”

You were quiet, biting back tears. You thought you would be cuddling this morning, everything slowly falling back to normal.

He heard you sniffle and the sound of it elicited a soft sigh from him. “Princess, you can earn my trust back. I’m a reasonable man.”

“I said I was sorry,” you said tearfully.

“Oh, I know you did. And it was heartfelt. And you did so very well last night. I was impressed by you. Truly, baby. But I need to be sure you understand how serious I am that I don’t want you to repeat that. Ever.”

You asked weakly, “When are you coming back?”

“Tonight. I won’t leave you for long. And I’m going to bring you something. But you need to just sit tight. Be good for Happy.”

You did not answer because you were staring out the window, grinding your teeth.

“Princess?”

His voice snapped you back to reality and you got out, “I’ll be good.”

“That’s what I like to hear. By the way, I set up an appointment for you today, last minute. It’s a virtual meeting. Happy knows about it, he’ll help you. OB/GYN. F.R.I.D.A.Y will scan you, the baby, send it to her and she’ll correspond.”

“She’ll correspond with… F.R.I.D.A.Y?” you asked slowly.

“Just this one time. I promise we have a real appointment next week. I’ll be at every one after this and we will do it in person. Cross my heart.”

Your voice was small, “Okay.”

“I’ll see you later. Be good.”

“I will, daddy.”

He hung up and you pulled the phone away from your ear, staring down at it. He was acting weird. He acknowledged what had happened but moved so seamlessly into baby talk and appointments.

How were you going to relax knowing you were stuck in here?

<><><>

Five months ago…

The art show was boring and even more so for the afterpart of it. You had no desire to speak to anyone about it and they were all gathered in the large center room drinking wine and having finger foods. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and you removed your underwear, tossing them into the trash bin before leaving to find Tony,

Tony was speaking to someone, sitting on a set of small chairs. The sight of you caught his attention and you put your finger to your lips. He only spared you a second’s confused look before looking back at the man. But his gaze found you again quickly, curiosity getting the better of him. Over the man’s shoulder, hidden from the rest of the room by the large plant, you opened the slit in your dress, showing Tony you were not wearing any underwear. He began to smile and hid it by his hand came to his mouth, it balling into a fist as he stared daggers at you. You gave him a wide, tantalizing grin, beginning to walk backwards towards the doorway to the adjacent hallway.

You left him sitting on the couch, dropping your dress. The hallway was empty, and you walked slowly down it, taking in the art.

It did not take long for you to hear footsteps behind you, and you looked over your shoulder finding a very hot and bothered Tony coming down towards you. He wasted no time pushing you into the corner at the turn in the hall, his hands snaking up your dress. You turned your head, giving a throaty laugh.

“Listen here… if you wanna come, you better look at me,” Tony husked.

“There’s people—”

“You started it.”

You nipped at his nose and he buried his face into your neck in return. He resumed pressing you into the wall, his fingers slipping in to work you up.

<><><>

Three months ago…

People were outside in the pool, drunk in the summer sun. You though, you were inside, sitting against the wall, pouting. Some of your old escort friends had shown up per request for the guests attending and told you they were planning a trip to Vancouver to do some shopping and ‘go out on the town’ in a few weekends. You had been excited about the prospect, you had not been out like that for a long time. When you had left the group though and leaned over Tony’s shoulder at the poker game to tell him about it, he had waved you off.

“You’re not going,” had been his exact words.

Instead of going back to the girls, you had gone inside, not wanting to tell them the bad news. At the inside bar, you had taken a couple of shots and made sure Tony saw you walk by the window. You tossed him a glare as you passed. Him and his stupid open shirt over his dumb swim trunks – that you had specifically picked out earlier this week when you were shopping – could get fucked right now for all you cared.

It was not too long before Tony appeared in front of you, peering down at you, looking ever piqued. He was not happy you were sulking.

“You know, you’re really bringing down my mood, princess. Glaring at me like that because I had the audacity to deny you one thing out of millions.”

“Then stop looking at me,” you retorted, avoiding his eyes, still staring off out towards the pool party.

You heard him scoff and he said, “Don’t even try to throw a tantrum right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just sitting here.”

“Looking like I killed your fucking dog.”

You merely shrugged aggressively in response.

He gestured out towards the patio doors. “You know they’re only going to get in trouble up there. And I don’t want you to get wrapped up in it.”

“So, you don’t trust me to be faithful,” you said finally making eye contact with him.

Tony held up a finger to you and corrected firmly, “That’s not what I said.”

“That’s exactly what you’re saying!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands down beside you on the bench. “You don’t trust me!”

“Don’t try to make this into something that it’s not. I don’t trust them to keep you out of trouble,” Tony retorted. “You know how they are! You were – are – friends with them for fucks sake!” You opened your mouth to argue and he cut you off. “No, I’m done with this conversation. You know what I meant. I’m sorry that you are upset but there’s a reason I’m saying no to it. Now, either shape up and come back outside or go upstairs if you’re going to just glower at me.”

Clenching your jaw, you stood up angrily and stormed off away from him towards the upstairs.

You decided on a whim to leave, grabbing a swim suit cover and throwing some sandals on. Downstairs you ran into one of Tony’s guys and you stopped because of the way he was staring at you. You had wanted to leave without anyone noticing but seemed like that was not going to be the case.

His eyes ran over you, taking you in. “You alright?” he asked curiously, his eyes narrowing.

“Yeah, peachy. Have fun with your dumb poker game,” you spat at him before turning and walking to the front door.

You got into the car, turning it on angrily. You knew you should not be driving but you just did not want to be at home anymore. And Cassandra’s was not too far away, only twenty five minutes or so. You took off down the driveway, actually smirking of the look on his face when F.R.I.D.A.Y informed Tony you had left whenever he decided to check in on you. That should be awhile because he had been on a winning roll.

<><><>

He did not announce himself and you only realized he was home because F.R.I.D.A.Y came over the speaker in the living room informing you, “Dinner is ready in the kitchen.”

When you walked into the kitchen, he was a complete 180 from the night before. He walked up, giving you a kiss on the forehead, asking then sincerely, “How was your day?”

“Fine…” you said, trailing off, giving him a curious look at his nonchalant demeanor.

He brushed it off, grasping your hand and began to lead you to your plate he had set up on the island next to one for him. “That’s good, kitten. Here. I hope you’re hungry.” He immediately paused and said under his breath, “Fuck. Hold on.”

Tony walked off to the pantry and your eyes wandered to the counter. You looked down at the plate and saw it was the dish from your favorite date night restaurant. He did that on purpose, you thought immediately. To remind you he remembered things you liked. To get you something that you did like. It was like an apology, extending an olive branch. This is how he knew how to apologize, with gifts.

You waited patiently until he came back with a long lighter. He smiled at you, lighting the small candle on the counter in between your plates. “Just like at the restaurant.”

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the small touch.

“Sorry, it’s just sparkling cider,” he told you, gesturing at the glass in front of your plate. He held up his bourbon and took a swift drink.

“It’s fine, thanks,” you said, picking up your fork and taking a bite. You savored the taste, chewing slowly.

Silence fell over the table and the two of you ate, both staring down at your plates as you ate. There was something hanging in the air between you and you just wanted to know what.

You got your answer soon enough. Tony’s sigh was heavy as he dropped his fork to his plate. “You know… I do have to apologize.”

That caught your attention.

“I hate doing it. You know I do,” he said, giving a little nervous laugh. “Admitting I’m wrong. Goes against everything in my genes. But… I could—should have done better with aftercare. The bath was bare minimum. I know you need more. We talked about it. And I… I lost my temper. And that’s not fair of me when I’m in the position I am in.”

He had your rapt attention, you tracking his every word. What he said was not untrue – you two had had a conversation about aftercare, especially when it came to punishments. He seemed genuine in his apology.

Tony made eye contact with you, grasping your hand. “In the future, especially during your pregnancy—” He cut off. “And I looked at the report. Everything seems to be okay?” You nodded and he nodded in return, “Good. Good… I need to be more careful. I need to do better. So… I’m sorry.”

You chewed your lip, taking what he said in. He was waiting for you to respond, to say anything, his eyes desperately searching yours.

“I accept your apology,” you told him.

Tony was pleased, his frame relaxing immediately at your forgiveness. Your hand was brought to his lips for a quick kiss. “You’re good. So good.” He stepped closer, and his free hand came to the side of your face, looking into your eyes deeply. “So, after dinner… maybe I can lotion you down?”

“The raspberry shea?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever you want.”

Three words he always said but did not seem to follow through on.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25

[adhd-disaster-willie]

you're the one that brings the sun; chapter 1/6

Summary: Alex is prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Willex roommate au! 

Warnings: Swearing

Notes: The title is from the song “I Dare You” by the Regrettes. I’ve actually planned this fic out so here’s to hoping I don’t get burned out halfway through. It might end up having 6 or 7 chapters, 5 is kind of just an estimate.

---

When Alex was 11, his mother proudly plastered his report card to the fridge and exclaimed that one day, her little boy would go to Harvard. His father gripped his shoulder with pride and Alex beamed up at his parents like they’d just told him he had superpowers. 3 years later, he was 14 and teetering on the edge of failure in the majority of his classes. He wasn’t stupid by any means, just preoccupied. He’d started a band with his best friends and that felt like the most important thing in the whole world, and high school was new and scary, so it was easier to not pour all his focus into school. His parents’ smiles faltered but they kept up hope, Alex could tell. 2 years later, he stood shaking and crying outside of the Molina’s garage and suddenly, the concept of going to college begun to feel distant and fake. But he’s 18 now, and somehow, miraculously, gazing at the piles of boxes in the back of Ray’s car and swallowing down a lump in his throat.

It sure isn’t Harvard, but a part of Alex feels giddy at the fact that he’s attending a public college that was relatively easy to get into; oh his parents would be rolling in their proverbial graves. What didn’t make him quite so happy though, was the looming fact that he’d be living with some random person, because for some godforsaken reason, the college wouldn’t allow freshmen to choose their roomates. Some bullshit about meeting new people and socializing.

“Hey, ‘Lex. Dude, you’ll be fine.” Luke shakes his shoulders, before swinging one arm around him and the other around Reggie.

“Says the one who isn’t even going to college,” Alex grumbles, slipping from Luke’s grip and into the front seat of the car.

“Yea cause I don’t need it. Not my fault you’re both nerds,” Luke retorts.

“I’m not a nerd, I just like to have insurance-”

“Yea, back-up plan, safety net, heard it a million times. Reggie’s a nerd though.”

“Old news, dude,” Alex says.

“I am not a nerd!” Reggie protests indignantly.

“Tell that to your 2 years of college credit in math.”

Luke nods in agreement. “Nerd.”

“Math is fun!”

“You’re horrible.” Alex makes a mock gagging noise.

Julie comes bounding out of the house, her arms decked with various baked goods. She tosses herself in the backseat beside Reggie and Luke, looking quite pleased with herself at being able to force Luke to sit in the middle. “Tía was apparently up all night baking,” she explains, passing the sweets up to Alex. “Don’t be surprised if she shows up at your dorm with food every day.”

Alex snorts. “I would not object to that.”

Julie sighs, leaning back in her seat. “You guys are so lucky, I’m tired of high school. Damn September birthday,” Julie grumbles. Her birthday is just after the cut off date, so she would be 18 for the majority of senior year, but is just barely too young to be in the same grade as the boys.

Reggie leans over and pats her arm sympathetically, earning an offended squeak from Luke, who’s only pushed further into the back of the seat.

“Don’t worry!” Alex chirps sarcastically. “You get to spend more time with Luke, since he’ll be squatting in your garage!”

“Oh, joy,” Julie deadpans.

“I am not a squatter!” Luke protests, kicking the back of Alex’s seat.

“No kicking! I’m holding food!”

“Y’know Alex, you’ve been staying in the studio for 2 years, you’re not one to talk!” Luke argues.

“I have a job.”

“A stupid job.”

“A stupid job that gets you free coffee.”

Reggie nodds to that, chewing on a cookie. “Can’t risk losing your coffee privileges.”

Julie groans loudly and stuck her head out the window. “DAAAAD! Let’s goooo!” She cries.

“Wow, I didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so badly,” Alex says, clutching his chest dramatically.

“Oh shut up Lexi, I just wanna meet your’s and Reggie’s new best friends!” Julie says, laughing.

“I’m not gonna be best friends with my roommate.”

“Yea, Alex forgot how to do that!”

“Luke I will smother you in your sleep!”

At this, Ray approaches the car with a raised eyebrow. “No one’s planning a murder, I hope?” He asks, chuckling as he slides into the drivers seat.

“No sir!” Reggie replies, grinning.

“Not yet,” Alex mumbles under his breath.

“Alright boys, who’s ready for college!” Ray says, starting the car.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

---

“And that’s the last of it!” Ray claps a hand over Alex’s shoulder and smiles encouragingly.

Alex nods tensely, gripping the strap of his fannypack tighter.

The dorm’s probably as good as he’s gonna get. One reasonably sized bedroom complete with two horribly uncomfortable beds, a kitchen with a fridge that was in no way large enough to fit even a weeks worth of meals, a tiny living room that would probably fit a couch and a TV at the most, and a bathroom that smelled suspiciously of mustard. Really it isn’t terrible, but Alex has a habit of noticing every little detail, especially the ones that could be a problem at some point. His roommate hasn’t arrived yet, so he’s standing amongst his various boxes, anxiety pulsing in his chest.

Julie grips his hand tightly and smiles, tears pricking the edges of her eyes. “Hey, Alex, you’re gonna be okay.” She squeezes his hand briefly.

Alex nods, exhaling shakily. “Yea, yea I know. It’s just…”

“A change, I know. But this is a good change. And-” she hauls Reggie and Luke over to them. “-we’re all here if you need to call someone and talk. And dad, and Tía, and I bet your roommate will be super cool.”

“Or a serial killer.”

“Just pray he’s not a football player,” Reggie stage-whispers, shuddering.

“God, don’t even suggest that!” Alex whines.

Encouragements and teary hugs are passed along, as well as a promise to meet at the Olive Garden nearby for dinner in a few hours, and then Alex’s posse is off to get Reggie settled, and Alex is left alone in the dorm. Alright.

Alex takes a deep breath, steeling himself, before beginning to wander the dorm. He’s anxious to start unpacking without his roommate and risk doing something that they wouldn’t like. Even choosing a bed feels wrong, he really doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with this person. But leaving the dorm meant people everywhere so that was a definite no. He sighs, lowering himself to the wooden floor and pulling out his phone.

“Yea… uh huh. Yes Caleb, I got here fine. No the Uber driver did not try and kidnap me. The boxes- the boxes are not too heavy. Okay. Okay. Yea, bye. Mhm.”

Alex looks up hesitantly upon hearing the voice nearing his dorm. The person standing in the doorway is well… less of a person and more of a large stack of boxes threatening to fall over any second. “Hello?” Alex stands up and makes his way to the boy stood in the entrance.

Said boy pokes his head out from behind his boxes and grins crookedly. “Hi, uh, I’m Willie!” And well, Alex is a goner. He swallows thickly, breath catching in the back of his throat. Willie attempts to adjust the boxes but ultimately fails, sending them tumbling to the ground amongst several muttered curses. “Well… nothing fragile in there,” he falters slightly. “I think.”

“Um…”

“Right! Sorry, uh.” Willie holds his hand out and Alex shakes it tentatively.

“Alex.”

“Alex, cool.” Willie smiles again, his dark eyes twinkling as he does so, smile lines popping out. He brushes his hair -which looks so soft and pretty- behind his ear to reveal a small golden hoop on his right lobe. Alex is dead, actually 100% dead. Because he’d been prepared for every single variable except, apparently, the one in which his roommate is drop dead gorgeous and Alex is an absolute clusterfuck of a human being who falls for the first pretty boy on he sees on campus.

Alex forces out a smile, all too aware that he’s still standing stiff and awkward in front of Willie, his grip on his fannypack tight enough to make his knuckles glow white. Then Willie coughs as some sort of attempt to fill the silence. “Sorry!” Alex squeaks. “Do you need help with the… the uh, boxes?”

“Oh yea, that’d be great!” Willie replies, beaming. “I don’t think there’s anything fragile in there, but y’know, my memory is absolute shit so if I broke some fancy china dishes I didn’t even know I owned, don’t be too shocked.”

Alex laughs anxiously. “Yea uh… I didn’t start unpacking cause I um… I didn’t want to claim a bed and stuff with-without your input?” His voice cracks at the end and he winces because Jesus fucking christ Alex.

Willie chuckles and Alex notes that he has the kind of laugh that echoes through your whole body and settles right in your heart. “ ‘S cool, man, I don’t mind.”

“Right, cool. Do you uh… are you okay if I take the bed farthest from the window? I’m not- not much of a morning person, and the window is… it’s east facing” Alex mutters, his gaze focused on his feet which are rocking back and forth at a rapid pace.

“Yea, of course,” Willie replies. “I don’t think I’ve woken up later than 8 in 5 years.”

“That’s horrific!” Alex cries, momentarily forgetting his anxiety. He steps back and blushes an even deeper red upon realizing how stupid he’s being. “I mean- I just… sorry, I just meant that-”

“You’re good, dude. I don’t bite.”

Alex cracks a tentative smile. “So uh… I’ll just start unpacking then.”

Willie shoots him a thumbs up and smiles once again, which is a thing he apparently does a lot.

An hour later, Alex’s belongings are unpacked and organized and the room feels a bit more his. He feels slightly lighter, exhaling and closing his eyes briefly. This isn’t so bad. Fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he shuffles out into the living room where Willie is presumably unpacking. Except that he’s not.

Willie is laying upside down on a couch that somehow appeared while Alex was gone and he’s flipping through a tattered magazine while his belongings remain mostly unpacked.

“This quiz says that I should try roller skating,” Willie sniffs. “Some personality test this is- oh hey Alex!” He scrambles up so that he can look Alex in the eyes properly, and points to the magazine in his hand. “Found this in a box, not sure how it got there since I’ve never even subscribed to one of these, but there’s a chocolate chip cookie recipe in here.” He stops for a moment, pondering. “Personally I prefer peanut butter cookies, ooh especially fresh out of the oven. There’s this bakery near my house that-”

“Did you get… any unpacking done?” Alex asks, raising an eyebrow.

Willie looks around at his boxes and laughs sheepishly. “Well I unpacked one and opened 3 so… some, yes.”

“Where’d the couch come from?” Alex pokes the cushion warily, as if afraid that it’s full of bugs.

“Room across the hall,” Willie says, pointing. “They both brought couches and didn’t have room for two we got the one with more stains.”

“Right.” Alex’s reply is forced and tense, and he winces upon realizing. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his roommate to become so comfortable so fast and he felt like he was several steps behind. Damn extroverts. Drumming his hands against his thighs, Alex slowly sits down on the other side of the couch, pointedly looking ahead instead of at Willie.

“So.” Willie scoots closer, sitting cross legged with his elbows on his thighs and chin resting in his palms. “What’s your major?”

Small talk, god Alex hates small talk. “Um, music,” he answers.

“Ah, that’s cool dude.” Willie nods.

“Uh, what about you?” Alex asks.

“Art,” Willie replies, grinning. “Be prepared for paint stains, like, everywhere.” He chuckles and nudges Alex’s shoulder playfully. Alex is going to implode, he’s sure of it.

Alex laughs awkwardly. “So uh… what’s wrong with rollerskating?”

Willie shoves his shoulder again. “Everything, dude! Well-” he cuts himself off, thinking. “-I just kinda suck at it, definitely better at my skateboard.” He jerks his head in the direction of a skateboard leaned against the wall and Alex wonders how he didn’t notice that.

“Oh, that’s- that’s cool. I rollerblade but I uh, I can’t skateboard to save my life.”

Somehow, they slip into a comfortable rhythm, and Alex notes that his anxiety no longer has him in a chokehold. Willie seems to have that affect; he’s just so… open. Alex doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s subconsciously created a folder in the back of his mind labelled “Willie,” and he doesn’t think he’s capable of forgetting anything Willie will ever say to him.

“- that’s why airplane food is just, horrible. Cause you basically lose like 30% of your tastebuds because of the elevation.” Willie smiles at Alex, gaging his response.

Alex would rather die than admit that he’s still trying to figure out how the topic of airplane food came up, so he just nods enthusiastically, actively stopping his eyes from dancing across Willie’s face, which is practically glowing in the evening sun. Evening. Shit. Alex pulls out his phone frantically. “Shit.” He says it out loud this time.

Willie’s brow furrows in confusion. “You good, dude?”

“Uh yea I’m just, I’m supposed to be meeting my fam- uh my friends for dinner and I have to be there in like 5 minutes.” He ignores the way Willie’s expression falls, convinced he’s just seeing things.

“Yea um, of course. I won’t keep you.” Willie stands up, his posture the stiffest that Alex has seen it in the whole 3 hours they’ve been acquainted for. “I’ll just… order a pizza.”

Alex hesitates in the doorway, weighing his options, which has never been his strong suit. “Do you want to join me?” He blurts impulsively. Willie looks at him in surprise. “I mean only- only if you want of course, we’ve only really uh, known each other for a few hours and you- you probably don’t want to, it was stupid. I’ll just- I’ll just go-”

“No! I’d… I’d like to, eating pizza alone in the dark sounds a little pathetic,” Willie responds.

Alex smiles genuinely. “Ok, ok that’s uh. Cool. That’s cool.”

---

Alex is already regretting this. The restaurant isn’t too crowded, he notices with a relieved breath. But it’s loud. It’s loud and yet only one group of people is talking. Alex doesn’t even need to guess who.

“Ok but- no- no- the whole song would be better!”

“Say banjo one more time, I dare you!”

“Banjo.”

“Julie, what the hell?! This is betrayal!”

“You stole my breadstick, it’s only fair.”

Alex coughs, quieting the table to a dull roar.

“Alex!” Julie pulls him down to sit next to her. “Oh? Who’s this?” Reggie is grinning wickedly and Luke waggles his eyebrows in a way that makes Alex want to shave them off.

“This is uh, my roommate Willie,” Alex responds, his voice raising an octave. “He didn’t have plans so I uh… I invited him, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course it’s ok!” Julie pats the space on the other side of Alex and Willie sits down, appearing… oddly nervous.

“Congrats! Your Alex’s first new friend since,” Luke taps his chin, pretending to think. “7th grade.”

Alex’s face promptly falls into his hands. He’s seriously considering the whole, shaving Luke’s eyebrows in his sleep thing.

Reggie leans forward conspiratorially. “What’s your opinion on banjos?” He asks, making a point to ignore Luke’s dramatic complaining.

Willie raises his eyebrows, clearly confused. “Um. No comment?”

“I’m… sorry about them,” Alex says apolegetically. “Uh, this is Luke, Reggie, and Julie-” he gestures to each of them; Reggie waves, beaming happily. “-and Julie’s dad should be…” He trails off, looking around.

“He had to take a phone call, something about Carlos refusing to eat dinner until he proves the house is haunted,” Julie explains, clearly biting back a laugh.

“I… okay.” Alex shakes his head. “Are we waiting for more food or did Reggie eat it all?”

“Ha ha,” Reggie punctuates his statement by sticking out his tongue. “We’re waiting for the actual meals-”

“Yea Luke already ate the entire bread basket.” Julie shoots a glare in Luke’s direction.

“Well… you suggested we get hotdogs,” Luke grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “Payback.”

“Okay,” Julie laughs.

Willie leans over to whisper loudly to Alex, “What’s the story with the hotdogs?”

“Don’t tell him!” Luke cries, leaning across the table and slamming his palms down.

“We don’t talk of the hot-dogs,” Reggie mutters miserably.

“Food poisoning.” Alex shudders slightly. “Very bad food poisoning.”

“We almost died,” Reggie says, eyes widening. “Like, for real death. I’m pretty sure I was a ghost for a few seconds.”

“Reg, you were not a ghost,” Alex says, speaking like Reggie’s a 10 year old talking about monsters under his bed.

“I was!”

“You were not!”

“So,” Luke smiles mischievously, taking Reggie and Alex’s bickering as an opportunity to apparently torture the latter. Despite Alex’s warning glares, he turns to Willie with an innocent expression. “What kind of music do you like?”

“Luke,” Alex hisses, all too familiar with Luke’s antics.

“Hmmm.” Willie is painfully oblivious to Alex’s panicked expression as he mulls over his answer. “A lot of stuff really.” He shrugs. “Rock, pop, I like those lo-fi playlists when I’m trying to study.”

Luke nods, clearly pleased with the answer, but he isn’t done and Alex wants to hide under the table. He knows what’s coming next. “Thoughts on… drummers?”

“Luke.” Alex is seconds from lunging across the table.

“Drummers?” Willie asks, tilting his head confusedly.

“Yup,” Luke says, popping the p and still smiling like he’s some sort of innocent puppy-dog and not an absolute bastard.

“Hot,” Willie jokes. Alex can’t even hide the way he manages to choke on his own spit, and Luke and Reggie have never been great at subtlety, turning to Alex with matching shit-eating grins. Willie either doesn’t notice or is kind enough not to comment on it. “Yea, pretty sure young Roger Taylor was my gay awakening.”

Reggie is full on giggling now, and Alex’s entire face is gleaming a bright red. Willie glances around the table, puzzled.

“Mhm.” Luke nods before swiftly turning to Alex. “Hey Alex, by the way, you left your drumsticks in the car, do you need them back?” His voice is sickeningly sweet, coated in some sort of poisoned honey. It’s Willie’s turn to choke on nothing, failing to disguise it as a spontaneous coughing fit.

“Fine,” Alex squeaks as he sinks further down in his seat. If he pulls out his phone and messages Luke a flurry of threats, that’s no one’s business. He dares a glance at Willie, who has become quite fascinated with his hands, which are tapping out a mindless rhythm on the table, his cheeks and the tips of his ears dusted red.

Needless to say, Alex makes sure Luke doesn’t even get to look at the next bread basket.

---

I hope you liked it! Tell me if you want to be added to the taglist :)

I’m hoping to update at least once a week, but who knows. Ok thats all.

chapter 2

Chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

[barbenheimer-core]

AUDERE EST FACERE !

하나. chanel : part two — 1.7k words

TURN.

The lights in the shop lowered in their intensity, and Ahyeong gasped, drawing in heavy breaths of air as her limbs finally moved of her own accord, bending low to clutch her knees and balance herself when she slightly stumbled.

"Are you okay?" Wangja the Shop Owner asked, concerned about the sudden change in demeanor.

"I,"— Ahyeong found herself at a loss for words, what was happening to her?— "I don't know."

An abnormal lucid dream, she thought, that was what she was experiencing. One in which she was aware of her made-up fantasy world but couldn't control her speech and actions at times.

It was like the dream itself had a script of its own.

Huh. Maybe that was it. She just had to follow the script.

"Umm... I think I should get going," she mumbled, hoping her hunch was right.

Wangja looked a bit disappointed that he couldn't carry on the conversation, but nodded in agreement. The sleek black car outside that he had spotted while coming in was probably her driver waiting on her.

Suho was still coughing on their way out, and upon the two shooting concerned looks at him he merely ignored them, gaining his composure and zooming past them and into the dimly lit night in his mildly flustered state.

As Ahyeong stepped into the cold night air, she saw her family's personal car, finding Driver Kwon sitting in front of the wheel through the tinted windows.

Her family and acquaintances must be the same as before then.

"Well, do come by often," Wangja said, handing her the copy of Shiver that she had been sifting through previously, and when Ahyeong looked at him confusedly, he winked, "as an insurance that you do visit, I'm letting you borrow it. Remember, the shop's policy only lets you borrow items for two weeks. Any more and you'll have to compensate."

The girl tucked the comic under her elbow, amused at his antics as if she'd known him for a long time, and said without thinking, "Does ramyeon work as compensation?"

The shop owner grinned, "Aye, you know me so well. Now go. Your driver is giving me the creeps with his glare."

Ahyeong chuckled at that. Driver Kwon was rather overprotective over the Song siblings and got suspicious of anyone who got within six feet of them, even the people the two kids had explicitly stated were their friends.

Bidding Wangja goodbye, Ahyeong slipped into the leather seats of the car, fastening the seatbelt around herself as was the clearly stated rule by the person in front of her who turned the key as soon as she got in, revving the engine before taking off into the night and to, presumably, her home.

Ahyeong paused at the front door, looking at the front lawn with puzzled eyes.

Why did it look even more extravagant than it was on a usual day?

The flowers were in full bloom despite spring having passed months ago, the garden lights were still switched on, illuminating the finely-trimmed shrubs and foliage, and the cars were displayed out in the open instead of being in the garage.

It was as if someone was trying to make a drawing of a picturesque rich household, perfect in every aspect with next to no flaws in its design.

The mahogany doors opened abruptly, halting her thoughts, and the housemaid, Eunjung, hurriedly ushered her in, putting slippers in front of the girl's feet as she toed her shoes off.

"Why were you out so late? It's past curfew. Thank goodness Mrs. Song hasn't returned from work yet, or you would've been in trouble," she fussed.

Trouble with her mother? That was odd. That never happened because Ahyeong usually informed Eunjung of where she was going, and her mother didn't really mind if she was out past curfew as long as she had alerted someone of coming in late.

"I'll prepare your dinner while you wash up. Do you want to eat at the table or should I bring it to your room upstairs?"

"My room, if it's not too much trouble."

Eunjung waved her hands, dismissing her, and scurried off to the kitchen while Ahyeong headed up the stairs to the West Wing of the house where her bedroom resided.

Contrary to what she thought, her room had not been what she expected.

It was littered with cardboard boxes and suitcases, most of them unpacked and organized but there still being enough to do that the floor looked messy.

Ahyeong remembered her involuntary words back at Prince Comics.

So her family moved to Seoul in this dream?

From where though? She's never lived anywhere else other than this city.

Oh well, too bad. There was no use dwelling on it. Her dream would end as soon as she would go to sleep and wake up anyway.

But her nagging mind urged her to clean her room up, and despite knowing that her efforts may be in vain she obliged, and by the end of the hour, her room looked just as it had been in real life.

Setting her towel by the bathroom rack to dry, Ahyeong sat down in front of her desk in her pajamas, where the maid had spread out a variety of steaming dishes on fine china while she had been tidying up.

Leave it to Eunjung to make mouth-watering food for any time of the day.

Just as she raised her spoon to eat the seaweed soup, her door swung open.

Gilyeong stood by the threshold, racing to her and shoving his phone in her face, a rather horrible picture of a mangled body on its screen.

"What the-" Ahyeong dropped her utensils with a clang, pushing the device away from her face with a disgusted expression and glaring at her brother, who giggled mischievously, "I'm trying to eat, you gremlin. Don't make me lose my appetite."

"It's payback for the time you showed me a clip of a gutted person when I was trying to eat pat-bingsu. Now get a taste of your own medicine, grinch," Gilyeong laughed evilly, shoving his phone into Ahyeong's eyesight as she tried to stop him from ruining her eyes in front of her food.

Even in dreams, her brother was as nasty as they came.

"You evil little-" Ahyeong wrestled the phone out of his hands, making the younger Song frown and whine at her to give it back to him, and got an idea as she glanced at the shelf on top of her desk.

"If you promise to behave yourself this week, I'll let you borrow that," she said, pointing at the Junji Ito comic that Wangja had let her borrow.

Gilyeong looked up, and his eyes glimmered in anticipation as he jumped up to grab it from the shelf.

"Woah, where did you get this from?" He exclaimed as he started to peruse the pages, "It was out of stock in every bookstore I dragged you to."

"I got it from a hippie who starred in a drama," she smirked at her brother's puzzled face , "so, do we have a deal?"

She raised her hands as she said so.

Her brother looked up at her suspiciously, eyes narrowed in contemplation, then nodded briefly, "deal."

He raised his palms, meeting Ahyeong's halfway as they did their Handshake of Temporary Truce.

Yes, they had different handshakes for a whole list of situations.

"But you still have to pay up for your flinches from yesterday and now," he drawled while walking out of her room.

Wait, yesterday?

"What do you mean the flinch from yesterday?"

Gilyeong stopped midway and turned around, confused.

"Don't tell me you've been getting amnesia too. We were at the restaurant yesterday with Mum and Dad's investors, remember?"

With that ominous comment, he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

Sunlight peeked through the half-open blinds, beaming on Ahyeong's face as she woke up and looked around her room, same as ever.

What a crazy dream.

She remembered it as clear as day.

But it was over and done with, and she was in reality now.

For a moment she pondered how she had gotten into her bed, but then trashed the thought. One of her parents had probably carried her here when she had fallen into a deep sleep in the lobby of the restaurant.

She got up, picking up her phone to look at the day and time.

It was around 8 on a Sunday morning, and Ahyeong yawned, kicking off her blanket to freshen up. She woke up too early for a weekend.

Deciding to explore the city for the day, she changed into a button-up and denim trousers, picking up a set of Doc Martens on her way out for breakfast.

"What's new this mornin', gremlin," she greeted Gilyeong while running down the stairs, who sat by the couch reading something, its cover blocked out of her eyesight.

She slightly tripped on the last two steps and hit her knee on the railing, hissing in pain and lightly hopping towards the dining table.

"Good morning, Eunjung-ssi," Ahyeong smiled through her discomfort at the maid, in complete contrast to the way she greeted her brother, and he scowled at her from his spot but didn't say anything.

Eunjung rolled her eyes in good nature at the sibling's antics, all too used to it, "Good morning to you too."

She set down two servings of rice, soup, and a variety of side dishes for breakfast, and the siblings came to sit at the dining table.

As Ahyeong scooped up a spoonful of rice, she saw Gilyeong putting down his book, finally spotting its cover.

She paused.

"Hey, dongsaeng, how did you get that?" She said as she pointed at the copy of Shiver.

The young Song stopped eating, pointing a fake grin at her.

"From the grinch who got it from a hippie who starred in a drama."

This was not a dream.

masterlist

© 2021 Alfia Sheikh, All Rights Reserved

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Surprise – Howlin’ For You – One Shot

Description: Bucky forgets it’s his birthday. But his wife and kids aren’t going to let that slide. 

Pairing: AU - Biker!Bucky x Fem/Reader

Howlin’ For You - Masterlist

Read the series or you will not know what the fuck is happening.

Bucky was so tired that a part of him was worried about getting home on a motorcycle without falling asleep. 

It was like the universe was torturing him with the day that he had. It seemed as if every customer he had to deal with at the shop today was a privileged asshole. All of them either pretended like they knew more about auto mechanics than him or yelled at him for the very reasonable pricing he gave them on their vehicles.

Customer service had always been the thing Bucky hated most about running his own shop. He tried to avoid dealing with customers at all cost. Steve was much more patient than he was – most of the crew was. 

But the whole reason they’d created the shop in the first place was to offer people realistic prices and to not rip off naive and unassuming customers.

Now Bucky was mentally and emotionally exhausted.

He’d sent a text to Y/N earlier, telling her how he’d become more and more irritated from work as the day went on.

She sent her support and promised she’d try to cheer him up when he got home.

Bucky immediately brought the conversation to more risqué suggestions, but Y/N didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

He also knew that a few minutes with his kids and he’d cheer up. Amelia would want to cuddle with him or the twins would show him their new model cars they built with so much enthusiasm that he wouldn’t be able to help but feel better.

When Bucky walked through the door, his shoulders immediately relaxed. He gave most of the credit to Y/N for making their house an oasis of comfort and warmth.

But then he noticed how oddly quiet the house was, which was a rarity with a 5-year-old daughter and 9-year-old, rambunctious twins.

“Doll?” He called out.

Suddenly Amelia came running to him, slamming into his legs with her tiny body.

“There’s my girl,” Bucky chuckled as he lifted her up to hold her.

She was already growing up so fast that he knew carrying her around could end at any moment – more from her not wanting him to than her becoming too big.

“Where is your pretty mama and your crazy brothers, huh?” He asked her after giving her cheek a kiss.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulders.

“They told me to come get you,” she informed him.

“Oh, yeah? What for?”

Amelia giggled. “It’s a secret,” she whispered.

“A secret? Sounds like trouble.” But now Bucky was getting a little suspicious. “Is this hide and seek? Are you here to help me find them?”

Amelia giggled again and shook her head. “No, silly. Th-They told me to say…ummm…” She was now have trouble battling the short-term memory that came with being 5 years old.

“Told you to say what, babydoll?” He encouraged her softly.

She smiled, not seeming to care that she wasn’t doing a good job of giving him the message. “The backyard,” she laughed.

“I’m supposed to go to the backyard,” Bucky confirmed with a slow nod.

Then he kissed her head. “Alright. Let’s go to the backyard.”

Bucky assumed the twins had Y/N hostage, showing her everything about the new dirt bike he’d brought home for them just a few days ago. While Y/N didn’t know nor care much about the mechanics, like her sons and daughter, she humored them by nodding and oohing and aahing at the right parts.

As soon as they were close to the door that led out to the patio and backyard, Bucky was surprised he couldn’t hear the twins talking Y/N’s ear off. Also the lights were off, making it hard to see anything through the windows of the house.

When Bucky pulled the door open, he was met with the backyard lights turning on and a crowd screaming, “Surprise!”

On instinct alone, he turned his body a bit so Amelia was shielded. But he quickly recovered, steadying his breathing and realizing neither he nor his daughter were in any immediate danger.

The whole week of work, specifically today, had been so hectic and stressful that Bucky kept forgetting his birthday was just around the corner.

Now he was facing what looked to be every person he’d ever met in his life.

All of the Howlies were laughing and cheering at his arrival. Someone had already started up the music again. People were talking amongst themselves now that the surprise had been delivered.

Grayson and Owen came running out of the crowd, Y/N slowly walking behind them with a warm smile.

“Were you surprised, dad?” The twins both asked excitedly.

“Sure was,” he laughed as he mess up both of their hair.

“Did you spoil the surprise, Amelia?” Grayson asked his little sister, who was still in her dads arms. His eyes were filled with suspicion.

She glared and shook her head before nuzzling closer to her father.

“No, she didn’t ruin anything. She could be a spy,” Bucky defended.

Now Y/N had made her way to them.

“You,” he playfully glared at his wife. “Come here.” She laughed and stepped closer, earning a kiss from him. “You plan all this for me, troublemaker?”

She barely pulled away from his lips, “Maybe.”

“Thank you, doll. You didn’t have to do this.”

Y/N shrugged. “I was just a little worried after you told me how bad your day was going. I thought maybe this would be all be too much.”

“Of course not,” he assured her.

He moved her lips to his ear. “I’m sorry about the lights and screaming, I tried to tell them not to do it. But everyone was really committed already,” Y/N muttered to him so no one else could hear, proving that she caught how he’d reacted to the surprise.

He kissed her again. “It’s fine, Y/N.” 

Even after all these years, Bucky was still amazed at how well they could read each other.

Then Y/N grabbed Amelia from his arms. “Now, I’ll take this one, because you got a lot of people who want to wish you a happy birthday.”

As soon as Y/N stepped away and took the kids with her, Bucky was bombarded with people giving him hugs and saying hi.

All of the Howlies were there, along with their partners and kids. He spotted his mom and sister talking to Y/N’s family. Some of Y/N’s friends who had become Bucky’s friends were there too. It was like their usual Howlie gatherings – but magnified and with all the attention on Bucky.

He could’ve gone without the attention, but he enjoyed having all the important people in his life all in one place.

An hour later, he found Steve running the grill.

“Alright, punk, I know you were responsible for this too,” Bucky growled.

They’d just seen each other at the garage a few hours ago.

“I may have helped a bit,” Steve confessed through a mischievous smile.

“How’d you all keep it a secret? Especially, Sam – that idiot can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“I fucking heard that!” Sam shouted from over Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky laughed and gave Sam an unapologetic shrug.

“That wife of yours did most of the work. I felt like I was back in the military with the way she had everything organized and dished out jobs to all of us.”

Bucky laughed at that, picturing Y/N giving out orders to his biker gang.

Hours later, Y/N had put the kids to bed and the adults really got down to celebrating. 

She was starting to get worried with the amount of shots and drinks people were thrusting onto Bucky. The man could hold his alcohol, but he was still just a human.

“I’m going to end up carrying that man to bed, aren’t I?” Y/N asked Sam and Nat as they sat around a fire.

The three of them drew their attention to Thor and Clint who were shoving another shot onto Bucky.

“Make him find his own way to the couch,” Sam chuckled.

“This is why you’d make a bad boyfriend,” Nat smirked.

“What?” Sam yelled. “I’m a great boyfriend!”

“Yeah?” Nat asked. “Where’s your girlfriend now? Oh, yeah, you don’t have one…”

Lo and behold, Y/N did have to practically drag her drunk husband to their bedroom.

Some of the Howlies who were more sober offered to stay back and help clean up. Even when Y/N turned them down, they ignored her and started getting to work. She wouldn’t be surprised if she came downstairs tomorrow morning to find her house cleaner than it was before the party.

Bucky’s arm was around Y/N’s shoulder as she navigated him through their home.

“You’re the best wife anyone in the world could ever have,” Bucky slurred to her.

Y/N laughed, “I am?”

“Of course.”

“OK. Well, your wife needs some help on your end to get you up these stairs.”

And to his credit, he made it up them without requiring much of Y/N’s help.

When they got to his bedroom, he flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Y/N started unlacing his foots and taking off his jeans.

“Shirt to bed or no shirt?” She asked him.

“No shirt!”

She smiled at him. “Shorts or sleeping in just your briefs?”

“Briefs!”

Y/N nodded.

“Well, I was planning on ending the night with more fun. But I don’t think you’re exactly in the right state for that…” She teased him.

Bucky chuckled. “Probably for the best.”

He was currently fighting the spins. So, as much as he wanted to have sex with his beautiful and sexy wife, it probably wouldn’t end well for him.

Y/N went to take off her makeup, wash her face, and brush her teeth.

She found one of Bucky’s old t-shirts and threw it on, forgoing any type of short or pants.

“Come here, doll.” Bucky demanded, sounding far more sober than he should. 

“Are you gonna behave?” Y/N asked him as she pointed a finger at him.

“Yes, ma’am. I just want cuddles.” Then he smiled like a goof. “It’s my birthday, so I get what I want.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head at him, but did as he requested and climbed into bed with him. Bucky instantly pulled her on top of his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

“Thank you for tonight,” he sighed and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m glad you had fun.”

“I love you, Y/N.” His voice proving that he was just moments away from passing out.

“Love you too, Buck.”

And barely 30 seconds later, Y/N’s ears were filled with Bucky’s drunken snores.

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

Thank you to the anon who sent this in and inspired me.  Let me know what you guys think :)  

[luulapants]

Stories We Tell

When I was eight years old, my parents split up, and my dad, as divorced dads are wont to do, got a shitty apartment in a weird neighborhood.

The building was two stories with sixteen units. There was an in-ground pool out back, unheated in the shade, so the temperature hovered just above arctic. Half the time, instead of swimming, you ended up fishing a dead squirrel out and changing your mind. The laundry room in the basement flooded every time it rained. The appliances were junk, constantly breaking. The doors and locks, too. The landlord never fixed anything.

I didn’t give much thought to the neighbors until I was fourteen, when my dad got full custody. Someone broke into our ground floor apartment around the same time (and by “broke in,” I mean waltzed through a door with a broken lock) so we moved to the second floor, where it was a little safer. Our new balcony looked out over the rodent graveyard pool.

Over the next few years, I developed a colorful picture of our neighbors:

--

Across the hall was Doris, a madam and a raging alcoholic. She was in her fifties or sixties, but there were always astoundingly attractive young women coming and going from her apartment. She threw parties where she was the oldest woman by about three decades.

On quieter nights, Doris would sit on her balcony and get wine-drunk. If my friends and I were walking past, she would lean over the railing and shout super appropriate things at us like, “Izzat yer boyfriend, honey? R’you two using protection?!”

One time, my dad did some legal work for Doris. She paid him with two cases of wine.

(My dad doesn’t drink wine, but somehow, it was still gone by the end of the summer. I dunno, Dad, it’s a mystery to me. Couldn’t tell ya.)

--

Next to Doris was a big old dude that used to stand on his balcony in whitey tighties and watch me and the other kids while we waited for the bus. I never learned much about him, except he was creepy with a capital “Eeeugh.”

--

Across the hall from Captain Underpants were the Five to Eight Guys. So called because there were at least five of them living in that two-bedroom apartment, but no more than eight. They all looked vaguely the same: twenty-something stoners with a lot of tattoos and piercings and a fashion sense that hovered somewhere between Hot Topic and PacSun, while somehow managing to be worse than either.

I don’t think all of them were drug dealers. But at least some of them were. Absolutely. People would go into the apartment and re-emerge thirty minutes later in a veritable cloud of smoke. Our coat closet shared a wall with them, and my coats always reeked of pot. I mostly started smoking because people assumed anyway.

The summer after my Freshman year, they hung blankets up around their balcony to create an extra room. I told my dad, “That’s smart – there’s so many of them living in there, so they made an extra bedroom.”

My dad looked up at the tell-tale red glow of a grow lamp peeking out through the cracks of the blankets and told me, “Kiddo, I don’t think it’s a bedroom.”

--

Below the Five to Eight Guys were two elderly nuns.

Yes, really.

They never had a mean word for anyone: not the madam, not the drug dealers, not the creepy old man standing outside in his briefs. That wasn’t to say they had a kind word for them. Their go-to was smiling and minding their own fucking business.

I liked to think of them as our building security. Because, sure, we had no real security to speak of. The doors were always propped open, and I don’t think there was a functional smoke alarm in the entire building.

But surely God wasn’t going to let anything too bad happen to a building with nuns living in it, right?

--

Next door to the nuns was the strangest of the whole lot: Crazy Cat Man. He was Russian, in his seventies, and had lived in the building since before the landlord added the ‘no pets’ rule to the lease. And I’m pretty sure Crazy Cat Man was reasons A through Z for that rule.

I never got a real count on the cats, but it was somewhere in the ballpark of ten. But ten cats wasn’t enough to sate Crazy Cat Man’s love for animals. Oh, no.

One winter, he decided to feed the geese, and hangry geese laid siege to the building for weeks.

Another time, I heard the landlord’s voice downstairs. He was screaming, “What the fuck is the matter with you!”

And Crazy Cat Man was yelling back, “I no let squirrel in the apartment! I never!”

He had. He had spent weeks feeding the squirrels, getting friendly with them. Then he started cracking the patio door to lure them inside.

Crazy Cat Man was married. His wife had albinism and was photo-sensitive, so I only ever saw her outside once.

See, once a year, Crazy Cat man delivered phone books. It was his only job. He spent the rest of the year trying to fix his van up so it would run well enough to deliver the phone books. He was constantly working on it. Every part he put in, the van attacked and destroyed like a body rejecting a donor organ.

One day, he hadn’t pulled the van quite far enough into his garage, so when he lowered the garage door, it hit the back bumper and got stuck. That day, I learned that his wife’s absolute favorite thing in the world was watching her husband be incompetent, because she came out of the apartment for once. He couldn’t get the door back up, so he had to try to crawl under it to get inside the garage, and she was standing there shouting, “My husband is an idiot! My husband is an idiot!”

My dad and I stopped to watch this seventy year old man crawl under a mechanically compromised garage door. My dad said to her, “If he’s not careful, he’s going to be a dead idiot.”

The albino wife turned to him and hissed, “I should be so lucky.”

--

My senior year of high school, the recession hit, and my dad’s law practice went under, and my older brother died of a brain aneurysm. A week after I graduated, my dad told me we were going to be evicted, and I’d have to find somewhere else to stay until I went to college.

We moved everything out of the apartment, so nothing would be trashed when they evicted us. My dad ran off to the mountains to contemplate suicide (as one does), and, for about a month, I had this big, empty apartment to myself. My friends and I threw parties, got drunk. Hot boxed the bathroom.

And I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor in the living room, because it felt too weird to sleep in my old room with none of my things in it.

Late one of those nights, alone in my empty apartment, I heard screaming outside. I went on the balcony. All the neighbors were coming outside to see what the noise was.

On the property behind ours, across from the squirrel-killing pool, there was a huge cottonwood tree, maybe fifty feet tall. On the end of this long branch near the top, there was a raccoon. Closer to the trunk were two more. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a raccoon scream, but it’s almost human sounding.

One of the two at the trunk rushed at the third, and forced it farther to the end of the branch. Then the two raccoons started bouncing the branch. The one at the end screamed.

I think we all realized what was happening at the same time, because I heard someone downstairs say, “What the fuck,” at the same time I thought it.

It took a long time. Pushing the raccoon back, then bouncing the branch, then pushing it back again. By the end, the one raccoon was hanging from the end of the branch, which was pointing straight down. It was screaming continuously.

When it finally fell, you could hear the thud.

I heard the same person say, “What the fuck,” and I had no idea who it was.

--

If found out years later that the rumor in the complex about my dad was that he’d been a lawyer for the mob, and he got on someone’s shit list, and that’s how he ended up so broke. And it’s why he had to disappear so suddenly.

The truth was, my dad was a good lawyer, but a terrible businessman. His clients were mostly small businesses and everyday people. When they didn’t pay him, he assumed it was because they didn’t have the money, and he didn’t want to rub it in by asking.

When I heard that theory, it occurred to me that I had created characters out of our neighbors with no real regard for what was true or logical, only what was interesting. I think that night with the raccoons was the closest I ever got to any of them, as real people. Standing in the dark, faceless, watching something horrible that we had no control over.

I’m not sure what the rumors about me were, but here’s the truth: by all logic, I should have been a pretty miserable kid. My dad had untreated depression, and sometimes he stayed in bed for days. When there was no food in the fridge, I assumed it was because we didn’t have the money, and I didn’t want to rub it in by asking. I went to friends’ houses to eat. That guy that broke into our apartment when I was fourteen? He had a brain tumor, and he thought I was his girlfriend. And I should have been scared shitless that a forty-something year old man had tried to get in bed with me before my dad woke up and beat the bajezus out of him in front of me.

But instead, I started making these stories about the weirdos we lived with. I loved them. I was obsessed with them. I talked about them all the time.

“Say, Julia, how are things at home?”

“Well, you’ll never guess what the Five to Eight Guys were up to yesterday, let me tell you!”

--

I saw Crazy Cat Man two years ago. He’s still delivering phone books, and he looks nothing like I remember him.

[kozumebunny]

Haikyuu boys + trouble in paradise

You don’t seriously think that being with the haikyuu boys is perfect, right? Moving in is just another challenge. Some make it easier than others.

TSUKISHIMA KEI will not let you raid his closet. Once you take something you don’t give it back. When you move in, it’s a two bedroom apartment. He values his space and some days he’ll come home and go right to his room. Why can’t you pick up that he needs his alone time? Also, did you seriously take another one of his shirts? It’s not that hard, just wash it and put it in his laundry pile, why won’t you respect his space? 

SAKUSA KIYOOMI will not budge when you move in with him. No, you can’t bring all that shit, it’s just gonna clutter the shelves and mean MORE dusting. Why do you want to make everything more of a hassle and- oh my god. It’s been three days, why haven’t you mopped, cleaned the bottom of all your shoes? You know what? Don’t bother. You’re just gonna fuck up the clean system he has in his house.

HINATA SHOYO isn’t messy. It’s organized chaos! That pile over there is clean clothes, hence why they’re folded and stacked. That one is dirty, which is why it’s away from everything else. Hey, why are you cleaning his closet? Stop babying him! He doesn’t need someone to nag him! Why do you have to clean everything? Now he doesn’t know where his clean clothes are. No. he will not do laundry or help a lot around the house.

MIYA OSAMU will want a place in the city. An apartment most likely. But it’s so busy and loud and smokey and the air is just so b a d. Yeah he wants kids, but he won’t give you a house. He needs to stay close to the restaurant, that’s his first baby. You won’t get a house with a white picket fence and you won’t get a pet either. He can’t stand to have the fur everywhere or having to put up with something as energetic as a dog.

MIYA ATSUMU will not make the house yours, He will make it his. It has to have a trophy shelf, pictures of his victories newspaper clippings of his victories framed and hung everywhere. Why do you need to hang up your picture from high school? You don’t even talk to them anymore. Fine, we can hang it in the hallway. Just make a photo album and put it on the coffee table next time. jesus. Oh yeah, that spare room? It’s his man cave. the garage? His gym. Is there any room for you in your own house?

KITA SHINSUKE lives on a farm. What’s the internet connection like? Why do you want to go clubbing for a date? Oh god, please don’t wear a skimpy clubbing outfit his grandma is right there. You work in the city? It’s a long commute. Just work from home. Shinsuke can support both of you anyways. Also, it’s a farm. You’re in the middle of nowhere. Hope you enjoy bugs and snakes coming into the house every now and then. Oh, and while he’s working and while his grandma gets older, you’ll be the one having to look after the house more often. Not much compromise there.

AKAASHI KEIJI wants a quiet place. Don’t blare your music when he’s working, when it’s early, or when it’s late. It’s an unspoken rule. Also there are bookshelves everywhere. you two have a huge collection. But no, no plants in the house. No dirt or dead leaves. none are allowed in the house. Go put it outside where it belongs.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI will not help you pick out decorations. He’d prefer a simple aesthetic but if you want to hang up all the photos of you two available in the house, don’t test him he’s already looking for the hammer and nails. It’s frustrating, you are the one decorating the house. it becomes a your space instead of an our space. (communist theme starts to play) He won’t help, only saying, we should have a bookcase in the living room, to put more photos and albums on. Dude. Go pick out a bookcase then. Why do you want me to do it?? Were you not the one who suggested it??

KOZUME KENMA is such a basic help. He doesn’t care about the aesthetic only that the furniture colors don’t clash. Also, while you’re at IKEA he’s on his phone. Looking up a new gaming chair and monitor. And decorations for his gaming room, which has a bed and doubles as his personal space. He’s not too much help when you want to decorate the rest of the house. He’s more than happy to help prep the house for an arrival of a new kitten though!

KUROO TETSUROU will not tell you what’s on his mind. Why are you keeping the house plans secret? Are you making an ahegao manga wall? I don’t know! Mans is just gonna start pulling things off shelves asking if you like it then put it in the cart. Tetsu babe. Half this shit doesn’t match. Put it back.

[thiswasinevitableid]

29 for indruck nsfw? i am already amused thinking about what sport either of them would play

Here you go!

29. I’m a professional athlete and I just fired my personal assistant and my manager sent you over but you don’t even know what sport I play or who my team is

When you’re in an aggressive profession it’s best, in Duck’s experience, to be as calm and friendly as you can the rest of the time.

But this whole shit-show is testing his fucking limits.

It’s been two days since he found out his perfectly fine P.A was working for the Wallstreet Journal, hoping to learn that Duck was somehow using his T or his identity to gain an unfair edge in matched. Ned fired him on the spot, thank god, but it took less than twelve hours for the guy to publish some fabricated piece on his attitude and for Duck to remember why he needed an assistant in the first place. He’s gotten so used to having one that he keeps forgetting stuff or dropping the ball on appointments, and the last thing he needs right now is to look like some stupid hick.

When Ned texts him to let him know his new P.A is en route, Duck groans “thank fuck” loud enough to startle the cat from her tree.

He goes to the door when someone knocks, but doesn’t open it.

“Who is it?”

“Indrid Cold? I, ah, Mr. Chicane said this was Duck Newton’s address and I’m supposed to start as his assistant tomorrow.”

Duck opens the door, “Fuck tomorrow, you’re startin today. I gotta focus on strategy with Minerva the next two days if I don’t wanna show my ass Friday night and it’s real fuckin hard to do that with people callin me left and right.” He guides the startled young man inside, then stops to take a deep breath, “sorry, lemme try that again” he holds out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Indrid.”

“Likewise, Mr. Newton.”

“Duck is fine. It’s a nickname. You bring your stuff with you?”

“Yes, it’s all in my car.”

“Good. Here, lemme give you the, uh, the grand tour, so to speak, on the way to your part of the place.”

Indrid smiles and nods, hanging back slightly as Duck leads him through the house. They cover the living room, kitchen, Duck’s bedroom, then come what was once the garage door.

“This here’s the gym; you can’t find me in the rest of the house, I’m probably here.”

“Goodness” The other man’s eyes widen behind his red glasses, “that’s an impressive array. I mean, I know professional athletes need to train but I, ah, I assumed you did it on site with the rest of your team.”

“Team?” Duck closes the door, spots Indrid’s fingers diving into his pockets to hide their twitching.

“Yes.”

“Which team?”

“Your...sports team?”

“....you got no fuckin clue who I am, do you?”

“No.” Narrow shoulders sag in his sweater.

Duck chuckles, “Figures.”

The silver haired head snaps back up, “Mr. Chicane didn’t say it was a prerequisite for hiring me.”

“Guess he didn’t. And I guess it ain’t. Just hoped they’d hire someone who knew what the fuck he was gettin into.”

Indrid crosses his arms, “They gave me a very thorough job description. I assure you I can do every part of it. Laying out your pre-workout and scheduling appearances isn’t rocket science, and it doesn’t matter if the dry cleaning I pick up is for a, a baseball after party or some sort of charity basketball fundraiser.” It dawns on the taller man that he’s just snapped at his boss. He contracts in on himself, staring down at his black converse.

Duck takes the chance for a more careful look; all of his clothes are second hand, chosen as if he’s cosplaying a jock who went into white collar work. There are piercing holes in his ears, flecks of silver polish on his nails. This job application was a hail mary and Ned Chicane went ahead and caught.

“No harm done, slim.” He rests a friendly hand on Indrid’s arm, “think it’s time I enlightened you.”

His office doesn’t get used much, so a sprinkling of dust greets them as he flips on the lights and reveals posters, magazine covers, and newspaper clips bearing Duck’s face. The gloves he used to win his first fight hang in a place of honor, right above the photo of him and the other fighters from Amnesty Boxing. It’s an older photo, taken the first time they sent a team out of state, sun-faded to the point the writing on it is disappearing. It makes him smile all the same.

“This does explain the set of instructions for helping you cut weight if needed.” Indrid takes in the posters, then turns his attention to the corner dedicated to Duck’s model ship collection. He cocks his head, says more to himself than Duck, “boxer. Interesting.”

“Were you just gonna bluff about knowin who I was until I said somethin?”

“That and look for clues in the rest of the house.”

He smiles, “Like a man with a plan b. C’mon, lemme show you your room.”

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

Alright, so Indrid should have researched Duck Newton before turning up at his house so he didn’t come across as ignorant and unprepared. But he was busy running every Taskrabbit and UberEat he could get just to scrape up enough to keep his landlord off his back. Sue him for not wanting to sleep in his car again.

He never expected to get this job; live-in P.A who doesn’t have to pay for groceries (buy them, yes, since that’s one of his jobs) is not the kind of luck he’s familiar with. He keeps waiting for the catch, so nervous that when Duck pops in on him unpacking he assumes he’ll scold him for his wardrobe.

“I, should I buy some more professional clothes?”

Duck takes in the two duffle bags and backpack, “Up to you. I don’t mind you lookin like the little art punk you are, but a dress shirt or two might help if we gotta go somewhere real upscale. Don't worry about buyin it yourself; just use the same card we do for groceries.”

Indrid is still hung up on why the fact a man three inches shorter than him calling him “little” makes his chest burn. Luckily, the phone rings and distracts him. Then it rings again. And again. And again. All while the inbox doubles every time he looks at it.

This turns out to be the catch; the work is actually hard. Everyone and their uncle wants to interview Duck, get him to sponsor something, or proposition him. Four hours in, he’s overwhelmed, overstimulated, and ready to hide under the desk. His fidget necklace isn’t helping, so he pulls out his chewable one; it often helps him think in high pressure moments.

The phone rings again and he growls at it.

“You’re allowed to let things go to voicemail, y’know.”

He spins in his chair, black rubber moth still in his mouth. Duck leans in the doorway, tank top soaked in sweat and towel around his shoulders

“I, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to drop anything important.”

“Ned handles the fights and the money, and anyone I care about has my private number for emergencies.”

“Right. I knew that.” Indrid can’t have his boss thinking he’s a total space-case.

Duck smiles, “What I’m sayin is; ain’t the end of the world if you don’t get back to everyone right away. Besides, right now you need a lunch break, slim. Lemme go rinse off and I’ll join you.”

By the time Duck enters the kitchen in an old “NIN” shirt and jeans, Indrid has his protein bowl laid out for him and is finishing microwaving a hot pocket for himself. Before he can scurry away, Duck pats the seat beside him and Indrid sits down, preparin to politely listen to Duck talk about himself or his sport.

He talks for ten minutes about the trees he saw on his run that morning before asking Indrid what he did before coming to the house. Indrid explains about his art and his side hustles in tarot and palm reading, about the run of bad luck that saw him without roommates and lost him his steady gig at a coffee shop. Duck makes genuinely sympathetic noises, lets Indrid change the subject when the fact he was on the edge of disaster makes Indrid’s chest tighten. They’re still talking about music as Indrid returns to his desk and Duck goes to meet Minerva in the gym.

By the time Duck’s fight rolls around that weekend, Indrid is feeling much better. He has a system of sorting emails that works for him, some mothman stickers to help him organize the paper calendar on his desk, and more confidence in his ability to spot callers with ulterior motives. He’s shut down two separate ones looking to trap Duck into interviews where he’d be forced to defend his very identity. Duck overheard his responses to the second one and brought him back a fancy creme brulee latte from his breakfast as a thank you.

He doesn’t go to the fight; it’s a small one for charity and Duck has Ned to manage him, Minerva to train him, and Leo to coach him ringside. He doesn’t need his P.A. Instead, Indrid finishes up his correspondence for the day, makes sure Duck’s breakfast is all set in the fridge, and confirms the masseuse is coming in the morning.

Once in bed, Indrid gets sucked into the commission he’s doing and is lost to the world until a tired, satisfied face pokes through his door.

“Oh! Hello Duck. Did it go well? Do, ah, is there something you need from me?”

“Yep, I won like I thought I would. And nope; was just poppin in to say goodnight.”

No one’s said that to him in a long time. The bitterness of that realization is sweetened by Duck’s smile.

“Goodnight to you too, Duck.”

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

Minerva is sick, which wouldn’t be a problem except for one part of his workout. He could skip it, but he needs to keep everything sharp for when they go to L.A.

“‘Drid? You got a few minutes?”

His assistant appears in the doorway, black jeans and white “Cramps” tank-top fitting him in a way that makes Duck want to hold him face down on the floor and find out how to take his breath away.

“What do you need?”

Duck points to the heavy bag, “You up for bracin this while I hit it?”

“I...I am not as strong as Minerva.”

“You don’t gotta be; this is just to keep the damn thing from swinging while I’m doin this speed drill.”

“Alright.” Indrid takes off his glasses and sets them on the folding chair, joining Duck, “how do I hold it?”

Duck shows him, does a few test punches to make sure he won’t send the poor guy flying. The round clock dings green, and he’s off. The bag wobbles for the first few seconds, then Indrid seems to find his footing and holds it stable enough for the drill to work. When the round ends, Duck steps baack, “okay, you can let go until the next round.”

“Goodness.” Indrid stretches his hands, “I feel for your opponents. I’m jarred just from that.”

“You need to stop? I got two more rounds at least, but if it’s hurtin you I caan skip ‘em.”

Indrid shakes his head, smiling, “nono, I like helping you with this. It’s exhilarating.”

The bell dings.

“Glad to hear it. Now brace it again.”

By the end of round three, Indrid is panting loud enough for Duck to hear him over the fan. He looks up, glove still on the bag, and finds them face to face.

“Minerva said three to five rounds for this. You wanna keep goin?”

Indrid, breathless and grinning, nods, “Can’t have you slacking off, now can we?”

Duck wants to bite his lip, just to see what happens. Blames the thought on the adrenaline. Then discovers the exact same thought waiting for him when Indrid, cleaned and in his most respectable clothes, joins him in the car to go to an interview.

Ned gave the P.A a list of likely questions, so they practice those as they creep across the Bay Bridge. But Duck notices that on both the trip there and back, whenever there’s a lull in conversation Indrid is on his phone reading about boxing. Duck knows the other man fixates on topics that interest him; knowing one of Duck’s passions has earned that distinction makes him smile.

After that, he starts inviting Indrid to watch him train, or shares his thoughts about matches with him. That’s all it takes for Indrid to start drawing him into long, animated conversations about his sport. When Indrid asks why there’s such debate over the proper way to wrap hands and also how does Duck do his, Duck demonstrates.

“Here, ‘Drid, now you try it on me.”

The P.A moves the wraps slowly, deliberately, moving Duck’s hand like it’s a priceless treasure he’s readying for transport. Every time he bites his lip in concentration or brushes hair from his forehead, Duck has to remind himself to breathe.

“Done.” Indrid is still holding his left hand, “Did I do well?”

The boxer tests the wraps, wiggles his fingers and clenches his fists. Then he squeezes Indrid’s hand, “you did perfect, slim.”

Duck can wrap his hands in his sleep. But whenever he’s home, he finds Indrid and asks him to do the honors. Indrid does them every time. Perfectly.

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

Indrid stands in the green room with Ned and a cluster of arena employees. The roaring crowd a few walls away echoes through the screen. He’s never seen Duck fight, but this event required all hands on deck to handle P.R, scheduling, and making sure Duck had what he needed to win.

Duck and his opponent enter the ring. Touch gloves.

Indrid’s pulse climbs.

Then the bell sounds and no useful noises come through the T.V. Just the announcers shouting and being drowned out by the crowd. Indrid gives up on parsing the cacophony, focus only on Duck. He’s seen him practice, but in a true match he’s a different beast. His opponent is faster, that much is clear, but Duck is patient, steady, blocks and weaves until he can land blows that make Indrid hurt just watching them.

Duck is magnificent like this. Indrid has to draw him like this, has to capture this and keep it forever, he has to, he has…

He has a hard-on in the middle of the green room.

He sticks it out long enough to see Duck win and then bolts to the bathroom so it can be taken care of by the time the boxer is done with the post-fight interviews.

They go out to celebrate, and Duck never nudges Indrid aside to let someone more important sit next to him. And as the drive to the hotel, he nods off with his head on Indrid’s shoulder.

It only gets worse after that.

Duck will coax him into joining him for a run with the promise of a fancy breakfast. On cheat days, Duck orders food to the house or takes Indrid out to lunch, and somehow the thing he wants when not focused on macros is always the thing Indrid mentioned he’d been craving. He invites Indrid on hikes with him, starts taking him to all his events even though he seldom needs help or herding at them (“yeah, but it’s nice to have someone to crack jokes with”). And on days when Indrid needs to be alone, or wants to see other friends, Duck simply smiles and closes the door.

The most dangerous days are the ones without anything on the schedule. Then it’s all too easy for Indrid to pretend that they’re something they’re not while he draws at the table across from where Duck is building his model ship. Too easy to imagine that the water-wise garden Duck tends is something he put into their house, not his house that Indrid happens to live in. Too easy to admit that Indrid wants to look after him for no payment except being looked after in return.

Duck reciprocating his feelings is within the realm of possibility. Indrid’s caught him staring when he walks in on the P.A doing yoga, and the casual touches long ago made the leap from accidental to deliberate. He also knows that Duck can’t fire him--only Ned can--and hopes that might lead to the boxer slinging him over his shoulder and tossing him on the bed one of these days.

There’s also the tabloid site circulating a photo of them with a caption claiming he’s Duck’s “boytoy” in spite of them only being two years apart. They’re not even sitting that close in the picture; Duck’s just smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world, that’s all.

Currently, he’s having an easier time keeping his feelings buried because--ever since they landed in Vegas-- Duck has been a dick the rest of the day. Well, as much as a dick as he can be; his offenses are mainly snapping at people and lacking his usual patience.

When he scolds Indrid over something silly in the hotel that night, Indrid turns and stares at him over his glasses.

“Duck, what’s wrong?”

“Wh-uh, fuck, nothing, why do you, uh, fuck, I’m fine.”

“You just snapped at me in a way that was completely uncalled for.” He crosses his arms, “is it the fight? I know it’s a big one but that’s no reason to be rude.”

Duck scratches the back of his neck, “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

“I swear I won’t. Or, if I do, it will be after you leave.”

That gets a smile, “I’m uh, well, I’m what you’d call ‘horny as all fuckin get out.’”

Indrid’s immediate thoughts would solve the problem at hand while creating a new and far worse set, so he keeps them to himself and replies, “If need privacy, I can come back later and hold all your calls.”

“Nah.” Duck sits on the bed, “You’re not supposed to get off before a fight. Makes you too relaxed.”

“That strikes me as an old wives tale. Old boxers tale?”

“Either way, it’s one Minerva still believes. If I lose, she will ask about every possible cause, includin that one. Better if I just cat nap before I start all my pre-match stuff. Come get me in fort minutes?”

“Of course.” Indrid waves and closes the door before he offers to lay down in the hopes of Duck having a wet dream while holding him.

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

Duck wins, though it’s a tough battle to get there. He fucking hates these Pay-Per-View fights, they try to make it sound like he’s got beef with the other guy. In reality, once he’s down from a knockout, Duck is the one who helps him to the other side of the ring.

There’s a flurry of press afterwards, of questions and congratulations while all he wants to do is shower. He gets clean, promises Ned they can all go out to celebrate later. As he and Indrid finally escape to his suite he’s forced to admit that--if the thoughts of hitting the “fire” button and fucking Indrid against the wall are any indication--his problem from earlier hasn’t gone away.

“Do you need me to see if I can get a masseuse up here? You look very stiff.”

“Just uh, just tense.” Why did he tell Indrid he liked those jeans on him? He’s worn them as often as he can since.

Indrid cocks an eyebrow, “Still pent up even though the fighting is done?”

“Yep.”

The P.A shakes his head, hiding a smirk, “Do you need me to find something for you to watch?”

“No.”

“I mean it, this place has all the good channels.” He’s so earnest, picking up the channel guide like it, rather than those fucking jeans and shirt with Duck’s name on it, has what Duck needs.

“No.” He growls.

Indrid sighs, sets the book back down, “This mood is annoying us both, so just tell me what kind of porn you want and I can go out and buy it.”

“Unless they got somethin called ‘boxer jackhammers skinny artist until he cries’ we’re gonna be shit out of luck!”

The P.A blinks, “Duck, this is Vegas, I can probably find that. Or look for it on your laptop…” he trails off when their eyes meet. Duck knows he must look like he’s ready to jump him. Indrid licks his lips, “Duck? What, ah, what exactly lead to this situation?”

“You really wanna know, slim?” Duck steps across the carpet, notices Indrid padding over the black and blue patterns to meet him.

“Yes.”

Duck removes Indrid’s glasses, “Had a dream about you while I was on the plane. Woke up havin just finished fuckin you open. First thing I thought was “no big deal, ‘Drid’s right here. We can do the real thing once we get to the hotel.’ Then I fuckin remembered that we couldn’t, and I know for damn sure that if I jerk off I won’t feel satisfied because you’re be over there” he jabs his thumb at the door connecting their rooms, “so close and completely outta my reach.”

“So keep me right here instead.” Indrid purrs, fingers tentatively finding Duck’s hips. The light contact splinters his self-control and he practically tackles Indrid onto the bed, kissing him as the taller man moans and paws at his clothes.

The kiss takes the heat off enough to clear the steam fogging up his head and sits up, “This really okay?”

“I would have said if it wasn’t now for goodness sake please get back down here.” Indrid yanks him forward by the front of his shirt, smashing their lips together. He’s humming and sighing every time Duck touches him, rolling his hips to display a quickly forming hard-on.

“Aw, sugar, you gettin excited just from kissin’?” Duck grinds down just to see him gasp.

“Y-yes. I, Duck, I’ve wanted this for months.”

The implication of those words slam his desire into overdrive, “You sneaky little thing, that why you kept runnin around in tight clothes?”

“Most of my clothes h-hang off me.” Indrid holds tight to Duck’s thighs as the boxer strips his shirt off, “but yes I, I did start wearing what you liked more often.”

“Ain’t that thoughtful. And what were you hoping would happen, slim?” Duck yanks his sweats off and kicks them to the floor.

“This.” Indrid’s eyes keep slipping down to stare at Duck’s dick.

The boxer strokes himself lazily, “like what you see?”

“So much.”

“Then how about a closer look, sugar?” He crawls up Indrid’s body to straddle his face. It looks even better than normal framed by his thighs.

“Do I get to touch too?”

Duck guides his hands onto his ass, “As much as you want. You gonna be sweet and let me fuck your face, or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open?”

Indrid opens his mouth instantly, a whimper creeping out of it as Duck strokes his hair. The sound morphs into a louder, but muffled, moan when Duck sinks down. He teases his dick against Indrid’s lips, drags slick across his chin, feels his jaw tremble with wanting to close. Duck shifts so his dick touches Indrid’s tongue, “get to it. Oh fuck” he braces a hand on the wall, “heh, didn’t know Ned screened for cocksuckin skills.”

Indrid shakes his head, brown eyes wide as Duck roughly rides his face.

“No? He didn’t make you demonstrate on some of the other fighters? Didn’t make sure you could make a whole gym cum to prove your mouth was good enough for me?”

“‘O” Indrid shakes his head again, silver strands sticking to the pillow as he kneads Duck’s ass in a way that makes him groan.

“Too bad for them. Because now they ain’t ever gonna get a chance.”

A whimper and write of the torso; Duck glances over his shoulder to watch Indrid buck his hips in the air, pre-cum clear on his crotch. His feet, still in their shoes, point and flex as he moans around Duck’s dick.

“You like that, don’t you sugar?” He threads both hands into Indrid’s hair, pinning his head down or pulling it closer as it suits him, all the while gently rubbing his scalp “like knowin’ that you’re doin well.”

A harder suck in reply.

“Then be a good little cocksucker and make me cum.” He holds his head down and let’s loose, grinding and grunting in pursuit of the heat that starts at Indrid’s tongue and is steadily curling up into Duck’s belly. The other man holds him tight, moaning and licknig and sucking until Duck cums on his mouth, the lasts bursts of it happening against a slackening jaw.

As soon as his legs cooperate, he climbs off and guides Indrid to sit up in his arms. His attempt to check on the other man is interrupted by a frantic kiss.

“I was gonna ask if you wanna keep goin’, but I think I got my answer.”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean please don’t stop yet. Please I, we can do whatever you like, we can do just this, you can drag me out on the balcony and fuck me in full view of the city-”

“Easy, slim, easy.” Duck cups his cheek, “let’s start with somethin simple. Get naked and get comfy on your back for me. I gotta go grab somethin from down the hall.”

His memory turns out to be spot on; the vending machine on this floor has toiletries, including condoms and a travel bottle of lube. He buys ten of one and three of the other, drops them in the pockets of his robe and hurries back to Indrid. Sprawled on the bed, he looks painfully vulnerable, like someone who got used to life kicking him and telling him to stay down.

It’ll be different when they’re together, Duck can promise that much.

“Seem to recall you wanting me to keep you here.” He grabs a handwrap, holds it where Indrid can see, “how do you feel about me usin this?”

“Extremely good. Oh, oh hello.” He laughs when Duck rolls down beside him to pepper his face with kisses. The process of trapping his hands to the headboard is prolonged thanks to their mutual need to keep kissing every five seconds.

“Now” Duck kisses his shoulder, “I didn’t bring any toys to fuck you with, so it’s just gonna be my hand.”

“You say that as if it’s a disappointment to me and not incredibly sexy.”

“Some folks don’t think you’re fuckin ‘em unless you use somethin dick-shaped.” Duck shrugs with a flicker of sadness from the last time he had that conversation.

“Tell me who insulted your body or your skills in bed and I shall stand outside their window with a megaphone informing them of how terrible their manners are and how they missed out on the finest man in the world.”

“That’d be funny” Duck leisurely kisses his belly and hips before sitting up, “but you’d have to get outta bed.”

“True. Ah well, a sternly worded email will have do OOOh, oohhhyes.” He wiggles his hips as Duck presses in the first finger, relaxing under his touch.

“Get the feelin you’ve done this before”

“Yes.” Indrid’s chest is flushed and Duck reaches up his free hand to play with his nipples.

“What’s the most you’ve taken?”

“Th-three, I believe. I, ah, I’m usually facing away so I sometimes lose track.”

“You're takin four tonight. Can’t believe anyone would wanna miss out on how you look when you’re getting fucked.” He teases the second finger to prove his point and Indrid’s mouth curves with bliss.

“My ass is many people’s type; my face not so much.”

“Fuck that.” Duck pushes the second finger in. Indrid arches, then sighs as Duck keeps working him open.

“I find it difficult to care what they thought right now. I, ahhhn, it’s much more fun to think about you.”

“About me…?”

“About right you’re doing right now and, AH, what we can do next. I do so want to sit in your lap in the hot tub back home.”

“Can manage that. What else?”

“I’d very much l-like to fuck you, however you’ll let me and, and I want us to do it right after you train some day, you look so good like thatAHgod.” The third finger is in and Indrid is now steadily pushing down on them, “and one of the times you get me to run with you I expect a blow job in reward oh, ohfuck” his eyes are wild and eager, “please do the last one, I’m ready, I want it so badly, please.”

Duck begins teasing the fourth finger, “Think all those wants of yours sound real good. You wanna know mine?”

“Absolutely. AHaahnnnahgod” The wrap tightens as Indrid clings to it, trying to stabilize himself as Duck fucks his hand into him hard.

“Soon as we get home, I’m gettin the strap-on and fuckin you for a solid hour at least. Gonna leave you so fuckin raw and relaxed you won’t wanna do anything but lay there, and you’ll goddamn get to because you’re mine and I’m gonna take care of you.”

“Duck” it’s a happy sob, Indrid’s cock bobbing in the air.

“Gonna take a trip somewhere private, just the two of us, and you’re gonna spend the whole fuckin time tied up, to the bed, a chair, whatever the fuck else I feel like so I can ride your dick whenever I want.”

“Yes.” Indrid is barely getting out words between his cries.

“And the next time you have the fuckin nerve to wear tight jeans the day I gotta fight, I’m gonna shove a vibration plug up that cute little ass and lock your cock in a cage so we can both be horny without bein able to get off.”

“Duck please, I’m close, please touch-”

He wraps his fingers around Indrid’s dick and works him over hard and fast, “Soon as I’m done with that fight, you’re gonna blow me in the locker room so I can focus on nailin your ass into next week when we get--ohfuck!” Cum hits his chin as Indrid gasps and squeaks, scratching at the wraps and the headboard.

If Duck ever loses his memory, he hopes this is the last moment to go; Indrid Cold, happy, safe, and satisfied while he moans Duck’s name.

Indrid is boneless as Duck undoes the bonds, though he rallies enough to pull the boxer into a hug so he can cuddle him like a teddy bear. He kisses his throat, feels his pulse even out beneath his lips.

“Duck? Does, ah, does this mean what I think it does?”

The phone rings right as he’s about to answer. It’s probably Ned, so he holds up a finger and grabs the receiver.

“Go for Duck. Yeah, yeah that’ll be fine” he nods as Ned explains the plan for their exclusive, late night dinner, “yeah, tell ‘em five; you, Minerva, Leo, me and” he winks at a beaming Indrid, “my boyfriend.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Bottom of the Glass

Genre: Bodyguard!AU, Angst

Pairing: Jinyoung  x Reader

Summary: It’d been almost ten years since you left the life of glitz and cameras behind, never looking back. But someone refused to let go. When danger comes knocking, your father insists on hiring the best to keep you safe. Reluctant, you agree. Park Jinyoung is constantly by your side, but as the stalker gets closer, will he be able to keep you safe without getting too close himself?

Part: 1 I 2

**

Dan pouted at your lack of enthusiasm to go along with his joke. Jinyoung seemed to find it somewhat amusing, given the smirk on his face. But he got over it fairly quickly.

“If you don’t mind, Daniel, I would like to talk to Miss (y/n) about the measures we’ll take to ensure her safety.”

“Absolutely,” Dan agreed. He looked at you and then back at Jinyoung. “I’ll leave you two to discuss… safety measures.”

You rolled your eyes as your friend’s retreating back. Not waiting for Jinyoung to start his no-doubt rehearsed speech on how he was going to upend your life, you went back to your desk and cleaned off the food and napkins that covered the surface. You finished your glass of wine and sat down in the chair. Jinyoung remained standing, the smirk gone, nothing left but a blank, distant expression. With no prompt from you, he got started.

“Your father has already provided me with a key to your apartment and I’ve met with the security staff there. I will have access to the cameras from my phone both for the apartment building and the hotel. I will drive you wherever you want to go, but for the time being you should limit your activities to work, home, and grocery stores. If you can work from home, that would be even better. There are agencies that will pick up your groceries and deliver them. That should be an avenue to utilize. I’m currently running background checks on employees, apartment staff and your close friends.”

“What?” A few drops of the water you had taken a sip from to counteract the wine you’d chugged found their way down the wrong pipe in your throat. “You’re looking into my friends?” You scoffed. “That’s how you knew about Dan’s line.”

“One can’t be too careful.”

“It’s Dan. He runs away from fireflies and organizes his clothes by color than by season. “Fake, pig, or otherwise, he wouldn’t have the stomach to go anywhere near blood.” If there was one person you could trust not to be behind all the phone calls and the bloody package, it would be Dan. And you refused to let this overreaching, overpaid babysitter make you paranoid and isolate everyone in your life.

Jinyoung shrugged, unmoved by your argument. “It’s the job. I can’t rule anyone out, no matter who they are to you.”

“Who’s next? My cousins?”

The silence was enough of an answer.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes and rubbed the space between your brows. “Listen. I am not working from my apartment. I have too many meetings and too much work to stay on my couch in my sweatpants. If there’s a function that requires my presence, then I’m going to go.” To let him know that you were completely serious, you opened your eyes and held his gaze. “You’re here at the insistence of my father. I’m tolerating this for his sake. But - and I will keep saying this - I’m not going to let that weirdo who is obsessed with a long forgotten past mess up my life now.”

Seconds of silence ticked by. Jinyoung kept your gaze, unmoving and unreadable. The more you stared back, the more you saw what Dan possibly saw.

This bodyguard was nothing like you had expected. He was on the shorter side, not intimidating at first glance. If you looked too long at his face, as long as he wasn’t smiling, then maybe he could insight… some sort of emotion. But you felt nothing. Nothing but annoyance, that is.

As both an actor and a director in this company, you’d learned to read people. You’d learned to search their faces for the emotions hidden underneath, to pick apart what they otherwise wanted to hide. But it was baffling to you how cutoff Jinyoung was. You saw nothing in his eyes that gave away the thoughts in his head.

Shifting minutely, he finally said, “But what is a life that’s a little out of order compared to no life at all?”

A bit of... an eccentric way to put it. “Poetic.”

He let out a fairly short laugh. “It’s been known to happen.”

You were still skeptical. You still didn’t want your life to be whirled around like you were caught in a tornado. But he had a point - the winds were already coming. And you couldn’t outrun a storm.

Crossing your arms and legs, you gave a smirk of your own. “You are certainly… not a cliché.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Something more of a Dwayne Johnson type?”

“You need speed, not strength.”

“Did you just insult The Rock?”

Over the direction of the conversation, Jinyoung sighed. “Are you done for the night? I need to inspect your apartment.”

Oh, gosh. You rarely had strangers over. Was your place even clean? Were there dishes in the sink? Fresh clothes that still needed to be put away? It didn’t matter if your apartment was pristine or in shambles like a hotel after Spring Break, you knew the bodyguard was going to force his way in. So you gave way, nodding and standing up from your desk. What was left could wait until tomorrow.

 A short car ride followed up a brief yet heated conversation in the parking garage as to who was driving. Jinyoung all but implied that he was the better driver with faster reflexes while you insisted that no one knew your car as well as you did. A pitiful argument. Your car didn’t have special modifications or a tricky gear. It was a standard, newer model that drove basically like any other motorized vehicle. It was nothing more than your first powerplay – and Jinyoung had won.

If your stalker wanted you to feel like that teenage actress again, they were succeeding.

Back then, you weren’t allowed to drive either. Too risky since teenagers had a tendency to get into more accidents and – whether it was your fault or not – whatever fender-bender you got into would end up in the tabloids. Add in the fact that you were usually in cities that you weren’t entirely familiar with and it was just best to be chauffeured whenever possible. At least this time you were able to sit in the front seat.

You handed Jinyoung the keycard that granted access to the parking garage and guided him to your assigned spot. No more words were spoken as the two of you got out of the car and headed inside.

The lobby was the only entrance to and from the garage for “security” (a word that you were going to get really tired of here soon). Once your feet hit the transition from concrete to polished tile, you headed for the elevators. Jinyoung, however, steered you away with a hand on the shoulder. His destination was the front desk where the doorman sat behind a marble barrier.

“Ah, you must be Park Jinyoung,” Walt, the doorman, greeted with a smile. He stood from his chair and leaned over the barrier to shake Jinyoung’s hand.

Walt was the doorman that you liked. He always wore a smile and had a gentle, uncle-like feel to him. The kind of uncle you enjoyed being around, not the annoying, obnoxious kind that you steered clear from at family gatherings. That title belonged to Newman, who mostly worked the late-night shift. For good reason.

“Your firm head met with us yesterday and went over the broad stroke of things. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to sit in on the meeting with our security staff earlier today with you present.” Walt didn’t seem effected by the news of your new bodyguard in the slightest.

“That’s alright,” Jinyoung nodded. “I’m sure they went over the briefing with you?”

“Absolutely. All packages for Miss (y/n) are to be collected here and left for you to inspect before being passed on to her. I’m to notate any strange behavior I see, both from strangers and from other residents.”

“Good. Good.”

“How’s your mom, Walt?” you asked, hating the feeling of being talked about like you weren’t standing right there. You just hoped that no one else living here was overhearing this conversation. You doubted that they would take too kindly to being watched and investigated like this.

Walt smiled. “She’s doing good. Has her bad days though where she forgets what year it is or that she’s not in the country anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” Your heart went out to Walt. His situation wasn’t the easiest to handle.

“Alzheimer’s?” Jinyoung guessed in a tone that still managed to be sympathetic.

Walt nodded. “It’s slow going, though, so that’s a small blessing.”

“That’s good.”

“Have a good night, Walt,” you said. You were currently fighting back a yawn. Wine always made you tired. You don’t know why you let Dan talk you into having a glass at the office. Maybe it was the stress of your predicament that made you give in so easily.

“Good night, Miss (y/n). Get some rest.”

The smile dropped from your face as soon as the elevator doors closed. Now more than ever, you just wanted to slide between your sheets and go to sleep. There was even a little bit of hope that you would wake up tomorrow and this would all be a dream and Jinyoung would just be a face that your brain chose after seeing him in some designer clothes commercial. If the bodyguard noticed your change in posture or expression, he made no mention of it.

Getting your key into the door was a struggle, but eventually the lock clicked, and you were able to go inside your home. A sense of relief flowed over you when you closed the door behind you.

“You should get some rest,” Jinyoung suggested. This, you would not argue over. He started making rounds through the apartment, looking out the windows and checking the shelves for things you preferred not to think about. 

Grabbing a fresh towel from the hallway closet, you entered your bedroom and straight for the shower. It was twenty minutes of uninterrupted thought-processing. You talked yourself into temporarily thinking that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Yes, it was going to suck. Yes, you were going to get annoyed and probably fight with Jinyoung a few more times. But this was just another obstacle life was placing in your way. It was going to be a long hard climb, but you’d make it over sooner or later. As far as you were concerned, this “stalker” would eventually get bored and move on to some other has-been.

Much more relaxed, you got out of the shower and slipped into your sleepwear before going to check on Jinyoung. You found him out in the main living room fluffing up a pillow on the couch. His shoes and jacket were off but you didn’t see them in the immediate vicinity.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t seem surprised by your sudden appearance, not even looking up at you as he answered, “Getting ready to sleep.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Out here?”

“Yes.”

Maybe he thought that the couch was his only option. Obviously your bedroom was off the table and down the hall. “I have a guest bedroom.” Well, two really, but one was being used more as an extra office-slash-storage space.

“If someone breaks in, I’ll know sooner and can respond better out here.”

You weren’t even going to try and argue. You shrugged. “Okay, have it your way.”

Not being completely heartless, you went back to the hallway closet and got out an extra blanket.

He revealed a small grin when you handed it over. “Thank you.” He sat down on the couch, eyes roaming over the room. His gaze lingered on the entryways and windows. You always kept the curtains closed, except for when it was raining or snowing. Regular sunlight was too bright for your liking and created a glare on the TV. Also… you didn’t like the idea of someone in a building across the way possibly looking in.

Okay, so maybe a little part of your brain had always been paranoid, and you just never wanted to admit. You still refused to do so out loud.

“You can go to bed,” Jinyoung chuckled. “You don’t have to watch over me. That’s my job.”

“Right.” Could you be even more awkward about this situation? Turning to go, you almost took that first step to head to your room, but then another thought jumped into priority. “Are you seriously going to sleep in your suit?”

Jinyoung looked down at his shirt and then back up at you. “Yugyeom will drop my suitcases off tomorrow. This will do for tonight.”

You snorted. “Let me guess, your luggage will contain all white button downs and perfectly tailored slacks.”

“That’s the uniform.”

Shaking your head, you turned to go. And then whipped right back around.

“I can look after myself, you know.” It was your last-ditch effort to get him to ease back. Pointless? More than likely. But you wanted Jinyoung to understand that you were not a poor damsel in distress who couldn’t tie her own shoes. You were used to taking care of yourself, doing what was best for you. The decisions in your life had been yours, for the most part.

Jinyoung’s usually stoic expression softened, if only by a fraction. “No one is doubting that. But two sticks are harder to break than one.”

Unsure of how to respond, you nodded. Now you made it to your room. Leaning back against the door, you blew the air out of your lungs. You still weren’t completely on board with this. You flipped back and forth between accepting it and wanting to fight it.

You had control issues; you can admit to that much. That was what made working in your father’s company so much better for your personality than acting. Or maybe it was because of your famous youth years that you were now obsessed with maintaining control. Whatever the reason was, that didn’t change how you are.

Bright side, (y/n). Think of the bright side.

At least he didn’t seem brutish. He was going to be stubborn on doing things his way, but he wasn’t cruel about it. So far.

He’s just doing his job.

That you didn’t necessarily hire him for.

But your father did. And it eased his worry and therefore would be better for his overall health.

“Just think of it as another acting project,” you told yourself, cringing in the process. “Act like you’re okay with it. Maybe eventually you will be.”

Eventually. Yeah, okay.

Pushing off the door, you shuffled over to the bed and slipped between the covers. It took almost an hour of tossing back and forth, crumpling your sheets and tucking your comforter in the process, but you fell asleep. Eventually.

**

Noise from the television woke you up the next morning. With a groan you flipped over to check your phone that was charging on the nightstand. It was only five-forty in the morning. Who the hell in their right mind was up this early?

Unable to fall back asleep, you gave up and crawled out of bed. After a quick maintenance run in the bathroom, you ventured outside to the living room.

Jinyoung was sitting up on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His brow was furrowed from concentration. The news didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary to you, but Jinyoung was entranced. The anchor was giving an update on the military conflict in another country. It was sad and depressing. You tried not to think about it too much.

“Did you actually sleep?” you asked in an effort to distract yourself. Still waking up, you wrapped your arms around yourself and let free a yawn.

“Eight hours,” he replied. You had a hard time believing that. Next to him, the blanket was folded with precision, lying neatly on top of the throw pillow. Tonight you would have to remember to get him a real pillow from the guest room to sleep on.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

Jinyoung glanced at you over his shoulder. “You can go back to sleep.”

You shook your head. “I can’t sleep with noise on.”

“Sorry. I’ll mute the TV.” He started to reach for the remote.

“It’s alright,” you stopped him. “I’m hungry now and won’t go back to sleep with a growling stomach. Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll make breakfast.”

“Thank you.”

You shot his back a curious glance before continuing to the kitchen. Although there was no reason to, you’d expected him to decline. Oh, well. Making breakfast for two shouldn’t be much harder than breakfast for one.

It took about fifteen minutes to put the food together. By that time, your stomach was growling viciously, and you could feel your blood sugar dropping dangerously low. To help stabilize it, you shot down a glass of orange juice. That calmed the stormy waters long enough to finish up. You took a plate out to Jinyoung first, along with silverware. He thanked you for the meal.

“Do you want anything to drink?”

“Do you have coffee?”

You nodded. You were already brewing yourself a cup. “What kind do you like?”

“I’m usually an Americano guy, but I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”

“I can do an Americano,” you said. You, erm, splurged on a nice coffee machine that basically does it all. You like your coffee fancy, as embarrassing as it is. Plain black with just creamer or sugar wasn’t enough for you.

The Americano was easy enough to make. You even had a little teal to-go cup with a lid and straw for Jinyoung to use. He half-scoffed, half-laughed at the thing when you brought it out to him, but he thanked you nonetheless. Now it was your turn to sit and eat. Usually you ate at the table, but Jinyoung was still out in the living room and you felt too awkward to eat in there when he was out here, so you joined him, taking a spot on the recliner. Tucking your feet under you, you began to break your fast. The news had moved on to a lighter, humanitarian topic, so you gave it part of your attention.

Knock, knock, knock.

Jinyoung froze. Slowly and quietly, he put the plate down on the coffee table. His hand slid under the pillow and pulled out a firearm. Now it was your turn to stiffen.

He walked slowly over to the door and peeked through the small peephole. Then his shoulders relaxed. Sliding the gun between his waist band, he opened the door with a huff.

“You’re supposed to call that you’re on your way.”

In stepped a much taller, lankier man than even the one that came with Jaebeom the other day. Though still in a suit, this bodyguard was still very boyish, smiling and giggling as he came into view. His black hair wasn’t perfectly smooth like Jinyoung’s. “I forgot. Bambam was in a hurry to get to his favorite café.”

“Now isn’t really the time for him to be flirting with the baristas,” Jinyoung deadpanned. He reached out and took the suitcase that the other one had rolled in.

“You’re just jealous that he’s better at it than you.” Noticing you, the other bodyguard waived. “Hi! I’m Yugyeom!”

You waved back sheepishly. “Hi.”

“If you get tired of this one watching you,” he jabbed his thumb in Jinyoung’s direction, “I’ll gladly take over. I’m much more fun than hyung here.”

“Yugyeom….” Jinyoung warned.

Yugyeom was undeterred. “He’s already got you up early. He tried to do that with me and Bambam, but we like sleeping. You know, like normal people. Next time, though, you should try to get up before him. He may look scary now, but when he’s sleeping, he’s actually kind of cute—”

“Yugyeom!” Jinyoung snapped. “Don’t you have a briefing to get to?”

The latter checked his watch. “Not for another hour, but I should probably wrangle Bambam away from the café before he busy the place out.” Still giggling, Yugyeom waved to you. “Nice to meet you, (y/n).”

“You, too,” you said with a laugh of your own. Jinyoung all but shoved the poor guy out the door. Once it was shut, he sighed, leaning his forehead and forearm against the wooden barrier.

“One day, I will kill him,” he whispered.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t enjoying this a little. Jinyoung huffed and turned back to you.

“Eat your breakfast.”

He rolled the suitcase down the hall to the spare bathroom and shut the door. In a much better mood than how you woke up, you picked your silverware back up and ate happily away. If Jinyoung ever got on your nerves, you knew exactly who to contact.

[sammystep]

No One Lives Forever- CH12

(AO3 link)

Stardust Crusader Wolf Pack AU

[From the beginning- CH1]

<Previous Chapter    Next Chapter>

The drive into city limits was thankfully uneventful. There was enough gas left from the last stop to make it all the way to the new apartment so Joseph declared that there would be no more stops. You and the younger guys had no issue with this plan, all of you so beyond tired that you would have agreed to any plan that involved you getting back to sleep.

It’s mid-morning when you wake up next, neck stiff from the awkward angle you slept in. You ended up in the very back row next to Kakyoin this time, and you both have to wait for Jotaro and Polnareff to fold down the seat to let you out. It’s disorienting to wake up in a completely new place. You’re greeted with a pretty nondescript parking garage, warm city air breezing through the open structure and kicking up dust and other questionable smells. You quickly cover your nose with your sleeve, reminded why you prefer smaller towns.

“Cheer up everyone! Not much further now.” Joseph seems to have really benefited from the full nights sleep, practically skipping past you all carrying his own bags as you trudge to the back of the truck to help unload. Between the six of you there is no need for a second trip, so the pack follows Joseph to the elevator, but instead of heading to the ground floor to begin your journey to the new apartment he selects the ‘lobby’ floor. If he was bouncing before, Joseph is vibrating with excitement now. “Everyone stay right here for a moment while I get the key. I want this to be a surprise.” Jotaro sighs but ends up putting his bag down in the open elevator door to wait for Joseph to get back. The view out the door is obstructed by a wall with some kind of post-modern art on it, the parking garage you just came from must be private parking for residents of the building. Your shoulders slump in relief; tension you didn’t know you were carrying melting at the realization you wouldn’t be hauling your bags across town on foot.

Joseph is back quickly, a brass key held out in front of him like some sort of holy relic as he walks. “Caesar’s been sending me pictures of the place; get ready to be blown away!” he turns the key in the elevator panel and selects a residential floor.

“Uncle Caesar’s already been here then?” Jotaro inquires.

“Well, he was. His email just said that it got set up and he’ll be done with company business soon. Then his pack is going to join us.” Joseph scratches at his beard as you all watch the numbers light up on the indicator panel. “I’ll call him today and we’ll get the final plan set in stone. It sounded like they only had a few things to set up before they can leave the company on ‘autopilot’ for a while.” His grin is as bright as ever as the elevator finally stops on the 26th floor and he rushes into the hallway as soon as the doors open wide enough.

The rest of you follow at a more sedated pace but you can’t help the excited feeling in your gut as you progress. The front door is flung wide open as Joseph hurls himself through the opening. You are almost blinded by the amount of natural light that greets you as you enter.

The two-level floor to ceiling windows grant a spectacular view of the city skyline, few other buildings tall enough to obstruct your view. The white walls and furniture bounce the light around the open living room and reflect off the glass and silver modern tables, everything placed and organized perfectly.

To your left is a dining area with a modern table and chairs, dark woods and pale cream-colored decorations tying in the colors of the living room. A large chandelier blocks some of your view to the kitchen, but from what you can see it is the most high-end residential kitchen you’ve ever seen outside of magazines and movies. Hell, it would put some of those to shame too. A pastel, almost minty aqua tile behind the stove is the only color added to the otherwise monochrome browns and creams so far, silver appliances shine in the reflected light.

Polnareff whistles loudly as he gives the place a good look as well, pretty much summarizing your thoughts. Jotaro, Kakyoin and Avdol are more modest in their reactions but you can tell by the way they straighten up and look around that they are eager to explore the new place too. Joseph is standing in front of the huge main window with his hands on his hips looking out on the mid-morning skyline. He turns with a flourish and throws his hands in the air, “We finally did it! I thought the previous owners were going to holdout forever, but we out lasted them! And now it’s ours!”

“Wait, you own this? Its not just a cool monthly rental?” you haven’t moved very far from the doorway, afraid to get anything dirty.

Jotaro ducks his head so his hat obscures most of this face, “Well, that’s not exactly what he means.”

“That’s right, JoeStar Realty has become a pretty big conglomerate since Caesar and I started it. We didn’t just buy out this apartment, we now own the whole building!” Joseph throws his head back and laughs triumphantly. You’re gob smacked as the reality of his statement sinks in. just what kind of pack did you stumble into? “Come on- showers and bedrooms are upstairs. We’ll all get situated and just relax today.” Joseph leads the charge up the stairs to your right and you all follow him up, bags in tow.

“There are five bedrooms, but with the Zeppeli pack staying here we’re going to have to share. I’ll give him a call and see what’s going on.” The rest of the guys nod and split up to explore the upper level. You follow suit and are amazed by the opulent bedroom you find yourself in. Looking in each doorway you see there are two smaller rooms decorated in creams and whites, still big enough to comfortably fit queen size beds. The larger three rooms done in blue, green, and grey are all furnished with king sized beds.

“(Y/N)! We’ve got two showers in this place- one of them is yours if you want to go first.” Joseph shouts from down the hall and you can see him poking his head out of one of the doorways.

“Yeah, sounds good to me- if everyone is cool with it?” You make your way over to the free bathroom, no one disagreeing with letting you be one of the first to shower. “I promise I’ll be quick!” You shout to the hallway before closing the door. the bathroom is just as fancy as the rest of the apartment, a large walk-in shower taking up most of the space. There are so many buttons and knobs, you’re tempted to try all of the settings but you just promised to be quick. Maybe you’d have the time to fully test it out later.

Luckily the apartment was also stocked with other essentials like towels and soap, and after a disappointingly fast shower – you only had time to try out a few of the fancy settings- you quickly change into a new outfit and grab a comb from your bag before dropping it off in one of the bedrooms. You make your way back downstairs to the living room and Polnareff jumps from his seat at the dining table when he sees you. He’s already bounded up the stairs before you can announce the shower is open now.

“Ah, (Y/N). I’ve got good news! I gave Caesar a quick call- he and his pack won’t be here till tomorrow afternoon. Polnareff volunteered to sleep out here in the living room, so we all get our own rooms for the night.” Joseph says as he and Avdol make use of the kitchen. Soap and towels must not be the only things supplied by the mysterious Zeppeli pack. A pretty impressive array of sandwich meats and condiments are spread out on the counter, and Joseph is putting the finishing touches on his own monstrous sandwich creation.

Jotaro is already showered and changed and sitting at the dining table working his way through his own mountain of sandwiches; you put you phone and comb down on the table next to him to save your spot while you make your own food. Cringing to yourself, you hope no one else notices you basically marked out territory right next to the alpha of the pack. Quickly throwing together some sandwiches you join the guys at the table.

The relaxed atmosphere is broken by the chorus of ‘Mama Mia’ suddenly staring to play. Joseph nearly chokes on the bite he just took and coughs it down as he reaches for his cell phone. He finally gets himself under control and answers the call, “Suzi! Sweetheart!”

“Jojo dear! I just got off the phone with Caesar, when were you going to tell me you were back in the city? And what’s all this nonsense about monsters?”

“He, uh, told you about that, did he? Well, its nothing to worry yourself over. I was going to give you a call once we all got settled here.” Joseph’s free hand can’t seem to stary still, alternating between scratching his beard and ruffling his hair. “But it’s all good now! Everyone is fine, perfectly fine! No reason to worry!”

“You are a terrible liar Jojo. Is everyone really ok?”

Joseph relaxes a bit and a small smile creeps onto his face. He makes his way out to the balcony to take the call in private. Shutting the glass door, he takes a look at everyone gathered at the table before turning to face the city skyline.

“Jojo?”

“I’m here, just stepped out for some privacy.” He takes a deep breath to prepare before continuing. “We’re all ok for the most part. Some cuts and bruises but we’re all in one piece.”

The silence that follows is almost more frightening than Suzi screaming at him. Finally, she breaks it, “Where are you, I’ll be right there.”

“No! No, you stay put. Besides, Caesar and his pack are going to be here tomorrow, there’s no need to worry.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about this Joseph. If there are dangerous people around, we should be together- the whole pack. There is safety in numbers after all.”

“Suzi, darling. Love of my life and sun in my sky,” Joseph does his best to butter up his mate, “I’m begging you to stay where you are; where you’re safe. We are attracting all kinds of enemies right now, if you got caught up in my fight again…” Joseph trails off, hoping the desperation in his voice talks some sense into her.

It seems to have done the trick as Suzi sighs loudly into the receiver, “Ok, have it your way Jojo. But are you going to keep everyone away? Remember Holly and Sado are supposed to be back in time for his big audition.”

“Damn. I forgot they were coming back so soon.” Joseph slaps a palm to his forehead and rubs it over his face.

“Oh! Wait! This gives me an idea!” Suzi practically sings into the phone, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen Fiona and her kids, I’m sure Caesar wasn’t planning on bringing his whole pack along with him. She and Holly and anyone else not needed to fight, we can all stay together! We’ll have the best of both, all of us out of harms way and safety of numbers!”

“Suzi, you are absolutely brilliant. I’ll get Jotaro and Caesar up to speed on this plan. I’m sure they’ll agree. We can look for a cabin outside of town, that way you’ll be able to transform if you do run into trouble.”

“Oh, silly me! I keep forgetting we need to let Jotaro make the decisions. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to my baby grandson being in charge.”

“I know. I’m still getting used to it myself, but he’s doing so well. Even with everything going on. Listen to this, it all started when we were at the new cabin to check out the area…”

***

From inside you watch as Joseph starts pacing and throwing his hands in the air as he talks on the phone. Jotaro had explained that was his grandma Suzi’s ringtone, Joseph was probably telling his mate everything that happened over the past several days. You pause as you are about to take another bite. Had it really only been a few days? Just a week ago you were a lone wolf, going from town to town as you pleased, and now…

You smile and greet Kakyoin and Polnareff as they take a seat at the table as well. Between bites of his food, Polnareff regals you all with a story about a job he had some years back that took place in a building down the street from this one. You do your best to look like you are listening, but you can’t help your thoughts drifting off to this strange situation you’ve become tangled in. You felt so at ease with everyone here, so unlike the packs you’ve tried to join in the past. They were such a close-knit bunch, especially considering it was rare for packs to be made up of so many non-family members. Hopefully the threads now tying you to this pack held strong after the hunter issue was solved. Just the thought of being outed from the group is enough to make you anxious, but you quickly quell the feeling with the resolve that you will do everything you can to prove you deserve to stay. To prove you belong.

The rest of lunch passes uneventfully, one by one you migrate to the living room and you end up sitting between Jotaro and Kakyoin again on one of the couches. Joseph and Avdol are across from you, Polnareff remaining at the table as he pulls out a laptop from his luggage. Now that you’re settled, clean, and full it’s hard not to drift between sleep and wakefulness. You don’t want to completely upset your sleep schedule so you settle on paying attention to the classic movie Joseph found on TV.

Jotaro and Kakyoin have no reservations about this it seems as they both quickly settle in for a nap as their attention on the TV wanes. Polnareff gives a loud yawn as he snaps his laptop shut and stands up to stretch. “Polnareff, would you mind if I borrowed your laptop if you’re finished with it?” Avdol stops him from putting it back in the carry case.

“Sure, what do you need it for?” Polnareff hands over the silver laptop, standing behind the couch and leaning over to see the screen.

“Something has been bothering me, about the encounters we’ve had recently. We seem to have run into more than our fair share, one of them even mentioning Dio by name.” You can see Polnareff’s hair stand on end and a full body shiver run through him at the mention of Dio. “I need to know; was it just bad luck that we ran into them? Or is there a magical component to this that we are not seeing? I need to do some research, but I wouldn’t put it past whoever is behind all this to use supernatural means to track and keep sight on us.”

You sit up straight in your seat as a chill rushes down your spine. You had been attributing the encounters to just bad luck, but the thought that they were intentional… Joseph seems to feel the same way, he stands from his seat with a growl and starts pacing.

“How can we tell for sure if we’re being watched?” Jotaro’s voice startles you. Apparently, he hadn’t been fully asleep. Kakyoin leans forward in his seat as well, the whole pack focused intently on Avdol.

“There are a few ways I can deduce if there is some kind of tracking spell being cast. But I need some time to refresh my knowledge on the subject. More importantly, if we find that there is a spell involved, we may be able to counter it.” Avdol hadn’t looked away from the screen while he addressed the pack, already deep into his research process.

“You’ll be able to block it once you know what it is?” You question him, curious to how the other werewolf could have such an in-depth knowledge of spells that he would only need to ‘refresh’ his knowledge.

“Not just block it. Most people don’t realize this, and in fact most spell casters depend on it, but when you use magic to view something it is like opening a window to look through. But when this window opens, if you have the right tools, you can view the caster back through the same portal.” You nod slowly at his explanation, still mystified at how he could possibly know this.

“Well, that’s some good news at least. Is there anything we can do to help?” Kakyoin asks as he sits up straight in his seat again.

“No, for now it’s just research to be done.” Avdol looks away from the screen to the pack. “Once I figure out what counter spells to use, I’ll need to collect some specialized tools from my shop.”

“Your shop? What’s that?” Today is raising more and more questions about the pack you’ve found yourself affiliating with.

“Forgive me, I forget you haven’t been with us that long to know. My family owns a curiosities shop, mostly catering to other sorcerers and people interested in the occult. You see, I’m half wolf on my father’s side. My mother is a sorceress, though she claims her only real talent is fortune telling.” Well, that would be one minor mystery solved about why Avdol knows so much about these things, but opens up even more intrigue to his past.

Jotaro nods and relaxes back into his seat, “Avdol, you make a list of what you’ll need from the shop. If its possible you should head over tomorrow with gramps, let your parents know it may be best to get out of town for a while.” Avdol nods at the order from his alpha and goes back to his research. The rest of you slowly relax back to your previous positions, Polnareff joining you all in the living room.

Its hard to tell how much time passes after that but it must be hours later when Joseph stands up and stretches, his joints cracking in protest. He winces a bit as he straightens out his spine, “I’m going to get started on dinner. Steak and potatoes sound good to everyone?” You could feel your mouth water at the thought and nod enthusiastically. Everyone else agrees as well and Joseph grins as he makes his way to the kitchen.

You join him, no time like the present to prove yourself useful. “What can I do to help?”

Joseph blinks twice before grinning at you, “Well if you really want to help, you can peel and chop these potatoes while I get the water and pans heated up. Sound good?” he hefts the bag of potatoes to the counter and you nod again, taking the bag from him and start looking for a knife.

You don’t catch the thoughtful look Joseph gives you and the glance to the living room as you get to work on your task. The open plan of the apartment was great for aesthetics but not for privacy. If he tried to grill you about your feelings and intentions toward his grandson, Jotaro was bound to overhear. Oh well, there were bound to be more opportunities in the future. Better to ignore it for now, Jotaro was under enough pressure as it was without discussing him like he wasn’t there.

Joseph gets to work on his own tasks and is impressed by how much you’ve gotten done when he checks your progress. “Wow, you really got to work on those. Where’d you get those knife skills, you a professional chef and just didn’t tell us?” Joseph laughs at his own joke.

“Ha, no. No, I’ve just worked a lot of odd jobs over the years. A lot of them happened to be in kitchens so I picked up a few things.” You chuckle with him as you continue working, adding a slight flourish to your movements to impress.

“Yeah, I guess that would do it, huh?” Joseph scratches his beard as he looks at you again, “If you don’t mind me asking, you said you’ve been on your own for a while… Why exactly? Have a falling out with your pack or something?”

“Nothing like that. I just…” You pause your movements as you try and think of the right words to explain, “It felt like it was time, you know? Adventure, fining myself, fining a pack of my own… That wasn’t going to happen if I just stayed home. So I packed up, hit the road and just kept going.” You smile as you turn to look at him. “I’ve actually had pretty poor luck with that last goal- finding a pack. Every time I ran into a new one that was looking for a member, it just never felt right, you know?”

“Well, that’s sad to hear, but at the same time I’m glad you’re with us now. How do you feel about that by the way? I know you’re kind of stuck right now…” Joseph trails off and you give him a bright smile.

“I know I barged into your lives, but you guys have done so much for me already. And, for the first time, I really feel like…” Joseph catches your glance at the living room and faint flush of your cheeks, “like I really have a place in the pack. Like I can belong.” Your eyes light with a sudden fire and intensity that catches Joseph off guard. “And I’m going to do everything I can to prove it. That I belong here.”

The last thing you were expecting was Joseph to gently pat you on the head and ruffle your hair a bit, “I wouldn’t worry about that (Y/N). You’ve already done it.” He gives you a sincere smile before turning back to the stove to get to work on dinner. You smile and do the same, quickly finishing and cleaning up your station.

Dinner is soon served and you are all entertained with stories from Joseph’s youth growing up in New York. You catch Jotaro next to you rolling his eyes at different parts of the tale. He sees your raised eyebrow and leans in, “Last time he told this story it was five vampires, now he’s up to eight.” You take a sip of water to hide your smile behind your glass.

After dinner is done and everything put away you find yourself back in the living room. You are about to get comfortable in an armchair when a yawn catches you off guard. Glancing at the clock you decide its not an unreasonable time to go to bed. “I think I’m going to call it a night guys. Do we need to work out bedroom assignments for the night or should I just pick one?” You stretch a bit as you move to stand next to the staircase.

“Nope, they’re all fair game tonight. Tomorrow we’ll have to figure out who is rooming with who when the Zeppeli pack gets here.” Joseph replies and you nod, giving one last goodnight to everyone before heading upstairs. You decide to just go with the one you dropped your stuff in, one of the rooms with a queen bed all to yourself tonight. Making sure you weren’t trapping anyone else’s things in the room you quickly change before falling into the bed face first. The covers are barely settled over you before you drift off to sleep.

***

You hadn’t set any kind of alarm, so you are a bit disoriented with the feeling of having overslept the next morning. Or was it early afternoon already? You crack an eye open to read the time on your phone; 10:15. Not early by any means but not unreasonable after the last few days you’ve had. And nowhere near your record for sleeping in, but the rest of the pack didn’t need to know that just yet.

You go through your morning routine at an unhurried pace before descending the stairs. Polnareff is seated at the table on his laptop again, Jotaro and Kakyoin eating breakfast across from him. You greet them and make yourself some toast before sitting next to Polnareff. Taking a glance at the screen you recognize the blue logo of Facebook but the profile Polnareff is looking at makes you pause.  

“Isn’t that one of the hunters?” you motion with your free hand to the screen as you take a bite of your breakfast.

“Oui. I’m doing a bit of research on them before I go check out the addresses.” Polnareff responds but his eyes never leave the screen.

You hum and nod before returning to your toast. Glancing around you realize Joseph and Avdol must still be upstairs, but you hadn’t thought them to be late risers. Kakyoin sees your survey of the room, “Mr. Joestar and Avdol have already left for his family’s shop. He said he was going to gather the necessary equipment to cast some protection spells.”

“They should be back in an hour or two, they didn’t leave that long ago.” Jotaro adds, his attention mostly on his breakfast but he makes eye contact with you as he speaks.

You nod again and watch Polnareff click through profiles and make some notes for a bit while you chew on your toast. “Is that really what you do as a PI? Facebook stalk people?”

Polnareff laughs, “Well this is just the first step. But you’d be astounded by what people volunteer sometimes. This guy,” he taps the ID card on the table, “has been surprisingly careful in what he posts. Which is a shame since he’s our best lead on whatever is going on. But since I have his address, I can put together a few things from what he does post.”

This catches Jotaro and Kakyoin’s attention and they both sit up straight in their chairs. “Since the place he claims to work for doesn’t have a website, and we know what his real job was, I was able to figure out where their equipment came from by cross checking their check-in tags from different restaurants around. It has to be one of the warehouses around the bay here.” Polnareff explains as he points to the map pulled up on his screen.

“Well, no time to lose then, lets go investigate.” Kakyoin says as he stands and collects his plate from the table to wash.

“Actually, I’d prefer to go by myself. It’s less suspicious if one person is hanging around and my methods, well… Let’s just say they aren’t 100% legal all the time.” Polnareff rubs the back of his neck and looks away for a moment before they both look to Jotaro for his decision on the matter.

Thinking for a moment, Jotaro seems to come to a decision as he closes his eyes and sighs. He opens his eyes again and focuses on Polnareff, “I’ll trust you to take care of yourself. I think you’re right though, a group of people snooping around is going to be more noticeable than just one.” You can tell by the look on Kakyoin’s face that he doesn’t agree, but he stays quiet. “The first sign of trouble you call us though, understood?”

“Of course! Although I don’t know how much trouble there could be, its not like he’s going to show up while I’m there.” Polnareff laughs and you smack your palm to your forehead, you would think he’d know better than to jinx himself like that.

<Previous Chapter    Next Chapter>

Author’s Note:

No fighting this chapter- everyone needs a break now and then. Also, I’ve decided I’m going to have to give up on once a week uploads- I feel like I’m really finding my voice writing this but it also means the chapters are getting longer and longer and I don't have the time I thought I would to get one chapter a week done. From now on posts will be sporadic but know that I am working on it a little each day!

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.6)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 2.858 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior Author’s Note: Pepper is going to be mentioned not as a love interest. If that bothers you, please don’t read on!

Part Five || Part Seven || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Three months ago… (cont.)

Tony realized he had not seen Y/N for a while. They were at a good point to pause their playing, so he told them all to get refreshers and have a break.  The escort girls were waiting on the men and one of them came up to Tony, all flirtatious smile, asking him if he wanted her to grab him something.

“No, dear. Thank you though. I need to go check on my lovely little wife.”

He sighed heavily walking inside, expecting to find Y/N sprawled out on their bed pouting or in a bubble bath since he had told her to go upstairs if she was going to be in a bad mood.

She was not on the bed, although the window was open, the curtain blowing lightly in the breeze. He frowned seeing she was not in their bedroom or their bathroom. Or in her closet.

Tony clicked the speaker system on the wall. “F.R.I.D.A.Y… what room is Y/N in?”

“Mrs. Stark left one hour, three minutes, and 38 seconds ago.”

“What?” Tony demanded. “What do you mean left?”

“Mrs. Stark took the BMW M8 Coupe.”

His eyes bugged out of his head. “She’s driving? She had like 5 drinks!” Tony shouted and realized he was shouting at his AI system and as he turned to charge out of the room, F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered.

“Yes, sir.”

He booked it down the stairs down towards the garage to where he could check the computer system to track where the car was. He was fuming but beneath the anger, was simmering worry. He did not want her to get into an accident. How the hell did she just leave without saying anything? How the hell did she think she was okay to drive?

Impatiently, he waited for the menu to load and he slapped the screen to click her car the second he was able to. His finger were tapping quickly on the desk as the map came up. He narrowed his eyes.

“Ocean Park?” he murmured, racking his brain. It clicked and he shook his head. She had a friend that lived there. The car was not moving, she must be at their house. He watched for another minute to make sure the car really did not move before he pushed away from the desk pissed off.

When he came back out onto the patio, he made a beeline for where his phone was on the poker table. He dialed her number, his other hand coming up to his hip. She did not answer, and he called back immediately. After the fourth in a row, he let out an aggravated noise, swearing under his breath. He turned around to go over to where his guys had migrated to around the pool, clutching his phone.

“Who is the most sober?” he demanded as he tore his sunglasses off to make sure they saw his eyes and how serious he was about his question.

Happy shook his head – not a surprise to Tony. It was his day off. Mikhail and Louis raised half hearted hands, looking confused.

“Stop drinking. I’m gonna need you to drive me.”

“What’s going on?” Happy asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N decided to take a little joy drive. Fucking… she was definitely not sober. She left an hour ago. She’s down by the Santa Monica pier. Her friend. Name starts with a C.” Happy went to put his drink down and Tony wagged his finger, stalling his movement. “No, you enjoy the pool. Enjoy yourself. I’ll deal with it.” He pointed at Mikhail and Louis. “I wanna go in like a half hour to an hour. Is that gonna work?” They both nodded and Tony said, “Good. I’m gonna try to call her ass again. Little bitch is ignoring me.”

He turned away from them, dialing her number again. “Trying to wreck her fucking birthday present,” he muttered, thinking he had just bought her that car and how pissed he was gonna be if she did get into an accident with it.

<><><>

Tony came into the kitchen, fully dressed. He had not been in the bedroom when you woke up but F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you that he was down in his lab. You had decided to not bother him and instead gotten ready and come downstairs to make yourself a light breakfast. You had made him some eggs too just in case.

You told him as such when he came over to give you a kiss. He made a pleased hum and took a forkful to appease you. He moved away to pour a coffee, tossing a look over at you.

“Hmm, that’s a nice suit.”

You had chosen a bright yellow one, barely there.

“Just gonna get some sun since I can’t go anywhere yet,” you said, eyeing him. “Unless you wanna give me the new garage code…?”

“No,” Tony said almost immediately. “No car yet.”

It had been a week and a half since you had run off on him. Again. He had removed the bar of you going outside a couple days after he brought dinner home.

“I’m not gonna go anywhere that’s not around here. I just wanna drive.”

“That’s not something I can trust you with yet.”

You pushed away from the counter and came to stand in front of him. He stared at you, cocking an eyebrow before he took a sip of his coffee. He was just patiently waiting to see what you were going to do.

Without breaking eye contact, you sunk to your knees, pulling at his belt buckle. He did not fight you; you saw him try to hide a smirk as you pulled his dick out, beginning to stroke slowly. Your tongue flicked at his tip, his eyes locked on you.

Suddenly, he held a finger up to you, placing his coffee down on the counter. He took his phone out of his pocket, dialing a number. “Yeah, Terry?” He let out a small grunt as you took him fully to the base. He shot you a warning look and you merely gave him doe eyes, humming softly. He got out in a strangled voice, “I’m gonna be late to our Zoom. Probably by 15 minutes? Mhmm. Yep.”

You were an expert at getting him to come by now, knowing all the tricks that would send him to the moon. He came in your mouth, warm coating the back of your throat. Your head was pressed against the cabinet as he held you there, emptying himself, his head thrown back and groaning.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his fingers going lax on the sides of your head.

His cock fell from your lips and you wiped at your mouth.

Tony let out an amused laugh, “That was naughty of you, baby. Trying to manipulate me like that.”

You put him back in his pants, gently zipping him back up. As you did up his belt, you asked innocently, “Did it work?”

His hand came to cup underneath your jaw, tilting your head up. He shrugged, “Kind of. Have Mikhail take you wherever you wanna go. I’ll leave you some cash.”

It was better than nothing. You wanted to get away from the house.

“Thank you,” you said, remembering your manners.

<><><>

You got even better than driving down the road a few days later, making obscene noises as you rode Tony in his board room. The two of you had climbed on top of the long table and he was lying back, letting you ride his cock. Your eyes drifted over to the window, looking out over New York City. You were so high up. He had never taken you to NYC before and damn, was he showing you the sights with his view from Stark Tower.

It had started with a hand up your skirt the moment the door had closed behind the two of you.

Tony assured you that the room was soundproof, grinning devilishly at you as his fingers slipped past your underwear, toying at your sex.

“Daddy,” you had pouted, trying to get away from him. You wanted more of a tour of the building than just his office and this board room.

“Yes, princess?” he purred, his other hand come down on the table beside you, blocking you from moving that way. His hand caressing you pinched at your sex and you bucked back.

Your hand came up to his chest and you tugged at his collar. “What about the rest of the building?”

“Who cares about the rest of the building? That’s where the grunts work,” Tony said, his nose buried in your neck. He nipped at your shoulder, kissing softly.

“But they are important. Maybe I wanna meet them.”

Tony pulled away enough to look at you. He saw you were serious and he laughed amused, bordering on condescending. “Mhm, you don’t gotta worry about them. But, it’s cute of you to do so.”

He was back at your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses. He coaxed you, his fingers pressing in. A low growl left his throat, “Imagine if I fucked you in front of the board as I gave a presentation?”

You had crawled up on the table at that, beckoning him to follow you and he had done so without hesitation. He had been more than willing to let you crawl on top, sinking down onto his length, the skirt of your summer dress spread out around the two of you. You egged him on as you hovered, letting him drive himself up into you. His eyes were swimming with determination and you drug your teeth across your bottom lip, not breaking eye contact, causing him to thrust harder at your lewd stare.

“You’re so sexy, baby,” he husked.

Perfect timing. You raised yourself up out of reach, empty of him, staring down.

Tony cocked his head slightly, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Baby,” his voice rumbled low. “Don’t you go teasing me now.”

“I want to go to the Met.”

If his eyes could have rolled out of his head, they would have. “Jesus Christ. Really?”

He had refused you when you had asked on the jet over here, telling you it was boring. He had been though, and you had never been. You wanted to at least experience it.

You began to sink back down onto his cock again and his breath hitched before you pulled away again. His jaw set, frustration setting into his features.

“I wanna go!” you told him firmly.

“I told you—”

You started to swing your leg over to move away from him but his arm came swinging up to meet you, anticipating your movement. He dropped your momentum – it was weak, admittedly, because you were doing it more for show than anything, knowing you were going to get your way when he was this worked up. He would do anything to finish. His momentum though was not weak and your knee came slamming back down on the table.

“Ow!” you complained..

His other hand snaked around you, yanking you to him so your noses were almost touching.

“Princess, I’m telling you right now. You drag this out, I’m gonna put you – and you alone – right back on that jet without seeing anything other than this damn room.” You pouted again and he growled, “I’m fucking serious. Behave and I’ll take you to that stupid museum.”

“It’s not stupid—” you started to argue but quickly lined himself back up with his other hand and drove himself up into you roughly, cutting you off as you gasped.

Fine. If that is how he wanted to play.

You pushed away from his embrace, settling back. You took control of the rhythm, riding him again. His grin was wide, resting back down to let you fuck him. You closed your eyes, going quickly as broken husks of praise fell from his lips.

“Tony!”

The voice snapped you from your haze and you stopped midthrust, looking over your shoulder in shock and embarrassment. Pepper was standing there by the door, her head turned to avoid looking at the pair of you.

Tony’s fingers dug into your hips as he did a curl up to peer past you at Pepper.

“What?” he demanded annoyed that she was interrupting.

“Your 2 o’clock showed up early,” Pepper said in an even voice. How did she manage to be so calm and collected at a situation like this, you wondered.

“Well, make them wait. I’m obviously in the middle of something. If you would turn your head about 90 degrees you’d clearly see that, Pepper.”

“I’m good,” Pepper replied flatly. “I heard enough when I came in here.”

Tony snorted, lying back down. “Make his ass wait, like I said. I don’t bend to his schedule. I need to finish my ‘meditation’.” His hand smacked your ass roughly. “That means you. Relax me.”

Pepper rolled her eyes before turning and leaving the room. The door closed behind her and your eyes were still on the door before Tony gave a rough thrust. You whined, your head turned back to look at him.

“You heard the woman. We have an appointment that decided they needed to be up in my ass. Why even make an appointment if you’re not going to keep the time? Speed it up, princess, if you still wanna earn your reward.”

Moving again, you planted your hands on his chest. Your nails dug in and he hissed. “I’m gonna drain you, daddy.”

His smile was wicked, watching your breasts bounce. It did not take long after that for him to empty, holding you tightly in place as his cock twitched inside of you. He exhaled deeply, slapping your ass again, his hand lingering and caressing.

“Fuck that was good,” he breathed. “I think you earned your prize.”

<><><>

You sat in Tony’s office playing on your phone as he spoke business with the man. It was illegal, what they were talking about. The man was ignoring the fact you were in there; he must trust the fact that you were married to Tony that you were not going to leak anything. They spoke in hushed tones even though the door was closed. It was boring really and you were not catching much of the conversation.

When they stood up, shaking hands, you almost breathed a sigh of relief. You wanted to leave the office and go do some sightseeing. The two of them left you alone in the office and you sat in silence.

The door opened again and you looked up, expecting Tony but found Pepper walking in holding a file. She hesitated only for a second seeing you but moved on, placing the file on the desk.

“Hey, Pepper,” you said to her as she moved to leave the office. She stopped and turned, looking at you expectantly. “What would you suggest I do while I’m here? I’ve never been to the city before.”

“Does Tony not have an itinerary laid out?” You shook your head and she said, “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“He didn’t even wanna go to the Met. He told me it was boring.”

“I’m not surprised by that.”

Her eyes flicked to your stomach which was not missed by you. It would be a couple months before you were supposed to start showing but you knew she knew. The cat was definitely out of the bag by now.

“Obviously can’t do any drinking stuff,” you said, trying to remove the elephant in the room. “I’m just excited to be here though and wanna do some fun stuff. Especially now that I can go outside again.”

Pepper’s brow furrowed. “Why couldn’t you go outside..?”

You shrugged, “I was grounded.”

“Grounded.” She repeated the word, sounding a mixture of disbelief and confusion.”

“Tony didn’t like a decision I made.”

“You mean you running off to another state?”

So, that cat was also out of the bag.

Shrugging again, you said, “Yeah. That. That really made him mad.”

“I would think he was more worried than anything, Y/N.”

“He had someone beat up because they tried to let me have a place to stay for the night.” That seemed to surprise her. Hmm, something she did not know. “And then I got locked inside. So, like I said, if you have any places you really like around the city… I could use the pointers to make the most of this.”

Pepper was silent for a few moments before she said, “If you like architecture and history, I really like the St. Patrick’s Cathedral. I’m not Catholic myself but the building is beautiful. The SeaGlass Carousel is fun. And Mario’s has really good food.”

“Hmm,” you said in response. “Thanks!” You took out your phone and typed them in as you told her, “That’s helpful.”

“No problem. I do have to get back to work though,” Pepper told you.

You nodded, “I understand. Thanks again.”

She left the room and you smiled, hoping you had started to make a helpful friend.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21

Fic tags: @kvzctam, @farihafangirls, @teenageregression, @mrsnegan25, @lilacs-lavender, @agustdowney, @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH02

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Slow build, a pinch of angst, doubts, a little fluff too, maybe?

WC: 2975

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

There’s a knock at the door in the afternoon and she opens up to Gabriel, Dean’s personal driver and handyman. She has known him for a while now, having started at the company almost at the exact same time. Gabe’s secretive — probably why Dean hired him in the first place — and he’s really easy to talk to. 

“Boss said I should move your things to his apartment.” Gabe says and steps in. 

“What else has he told you?” She closes the door and follows Gabe over to where her suitcases are. 

“Nothing much. You’re married or something. But I signed a NDA, so, no worries,” He shrugs like it’s no fucking deal, which makes her wonder what else he knows. She wonders what else Gabe witnessed while driving around for Dean.

“Is that all?” He asks and points his finger at her two packed suitcases.

“Yeah, I travel light.” She smiles, feels a little embarrassed actually. But that’s how it is. Everything she owns fits into two lousy suitcases. It’s actually quite sad when she thinks about it. 

“Damn, you could have taken the subway with them suitcases. There’s no need for me,” Gabe says it with an amused tone to his voice. 

 *

 Gabe drives into the parking garage of the building Dean lives in. He tells her to call the elevator and take the one far left because that one will go to the top floor without making unnecessary stops. He then takes out her luggage and follows her. 

As they are standing in the elevator, the stupid music starts to play and she hates that. Hates lame elevator music, because it makes everything so much more awkward. Dean even has his own elevator. It’s a little ridiculous when you think about it. 

They arrive and Gabe shows her the way, which is probably not really hard because there’s only one door that looks like an apartment door. All the other doors had  signs on them that say Keep out! or Private!

Gabe rings the bell and she waits behind him. She can’t lie, she’s a little scared. Like, he’s her boss and he’s so damn grumpy all the time and she’s afraid that he’s going to fire her even in his own home. 

Dean opens the door, his hair’s ruffled, his jacket and tie are off, the top two buttons of his shirt are loose, and his sleeves are rolled up. The shirt has those crinkles on them as if he just took a nap. Maybe he did? He was complaining about a headache earlier. 

“Hey,” He says and opens the door wider, for Gabe and her to step through, “Thanks Gabe, that’ll be all.”

“Right,” Gabe nods, “I’ll be in the car ready to leave when you are.”

Dean gives Gabe a courtesy nod before he closes the door behind him. He then turns to her. It's really awkward. She wonders if she’s made a mistake in agreeing to be his fake wife. 

He has both his hands in his pockets when he looks at her and asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She manages to give him a weak smile. She can’t tell him that she’s in fact, not really okay of course, that she’s in fact, nervous as hell. 

“Come on, follow me,” Dean starts to walk through the penthouse and she needs to speed up to be able to keep up with him. His legs are incredibly long and hers are not, “I’ll show you around.” 

They walk into a big open space. There’s a black sofa in one corner. It faces a ridiculously big screen tv. There are also two big comforter chairs which she frowns a little at. It’s not that they don’t look nice, they just don’t really fit into the setting. 

Dean senses her confusion, “I bought them for when Sam’s over. Watch,” He grins and walks over, sits in one and reclined himself. When he settles, he pushes a button and there's a buzzing sound, “It massages your back,” He says, a smile on his face that’s brighter than the sun. She couldn’t not laugh at that. 

“Right,” Dean says then, “Gotta get out before I let myself be sucked into it. It’s hard to get out once you relax too much.” 

She can imagine and actually, she can’t wait to get in there herself.

He continues to walk ahead and they get into a kitchen area. The fridge is more than twice as big as the one she has at home and it’s stocked up, too. Either he went to the store before or he has someone to do it for him. She thinks it must be the latter. She just can’t imagine him walking through the aisle wheeling a cart in front of him.

After the kitchen, he walks along a hallway and points to the rooms. 

“That’s my study, I don’t use it that much but there’s a computer and printer. If you need something, you can use it.”

The door next to the office is the guest bathroom. It’s bigger than the living room of her apartment. 

They walk further along the hallway and come to stop at two doors on either side of the narrow hallway.

Dean opens up the door to her right, “That’s your bedroom,” They walk in and it’s spacious as hell. She thinks it’s even bigger than her whole apartment. Everything is kept in a warm mix of white and beige, “And that’s your bathroom.” He walks through to the en-suite and she can see that the tub is huge. 

He looks at her, sees her mouth standing agape and has to grin.

“What?” She asks, feeling a little flushed knowing that he’s been watching her. 

Pressing his lips into a tight line, he grins a little. There are teeny tiny dimples showing, “There’s a gym on the first floor of the building, you’re free to use it if you want.”

“Okay,” She follows him out again and wonders what is behind the door that he hasn’t mentioned, “And what’s there?”

“That’s my bedroom.” He says simply, and he’s already rushing back into the living area, and fuck why are his legs so damn long. She is glad that they’re bowed, he would probably be even faster if they were straight.

“Dean, slow down, I’m not that fast,” She has to call out because he’s already at the door to the balcony. 

He laughs, “Sorry, I’m just so used to walking around with Sam and he never has a problem keeping up with me. I’ll try to go slower, okay?” He waits until she reaches him.

“That'd be great, thanks.”

“Come on, you need to see this,” There’s a boyish smile decorating his face. It’s nothing like the grumpy Dean she knows as her boss. He’s genuinely content, and it shows. 

He opens up the door to the balcony and holy shit, it’s not a balcony. It’s a freaking terrace. There’s a hot tub on the far left side, overlooking the city.

“Nice, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” She agrees, “It really is. How often do you get to enjoy it, though?” It’s a legit question because she knows how much he works. 

“Maybe I’ll get to enjoy it more now that you’re here.” His voice is a little soft when he says it. Before she can even ask what he means by that, he clears his throat, “Right, I really need to go back to the office now. Will you be okay? I’ll try not to stay too late, alright?” 

“Sure,”

“Make yourself at home. It’s yours now, too.” He’s about to turn around but then he stops, “Really missed you in the office this morning. Ruby doesn’t know how I drink my coffee.”

“It’s not hard? You drink it black.”

“Yeah, but hers is different.”

She doesn’t really know if he’s shitting her. Dean’s so hard to read sometimes. 

“Dean, the coffee is the same!”

“Fine,” He rolls his eyes, “But anyway, just so you know. You’re missed in the office. Not just because of the coffee.”

“Now you’re just kissing my ass.”

Dean snorts out a laugh before he turns around and picks up his tie and jacket. He walks to the door, turns around again, “Call me when you need anything!”

She can’t even say okay because she can already see  that the door closed. 

*

Two suitcases are easy to unpack. Half of her new closet is still empty. She didn’t even need more than an hour. 

Walking out into the living room, she sees the comforter and decides to spoil her body with a massage. 

She sits in, reclines herself and pushes the same button Dean did before, and immediately a buzzing sound fills her ears as her back starts to vibrate. She lets out a squeal at first but soon starts to relax and it does feel really good. She closes her eyes and almost drifts off when she feels another kind of vibration in the back pocket of her pants. 

Taking out her phone she looks at her screen.

Dean.

 D: What are you up to? Find everything alright?

 Y/N frowns. Because she sees the time and knows for a fact that he’s in a meeting right now because she organized that meeting.

 Y/N: Aren’t you in a meeting?

D: Yeah, but I’m bored.

 She doesn’t even know that he’s a texter. Every time she saw him with his phone in his hand, he talked to someone. He never just has his phone in his hand and fucking texts.

 Y/N: If you’re really interested, I’m sitting in the comforter and I’m enjoying a massage.

D: Jealous.

Y/N: Was thinking about taking a bath in the hot tub. I’m allowed to use it, right?

D: You are. But I would wait til the evening. The view is nicer then.

Y/N: Okay.

 But he’ll be here in the evening and he’ll see her in the tub. Ugh. 

 D: Right, just wanted to see if you’re okay. Since you are, I’m gonna go back to listening to whatever Donatello has to tell me. See you later, Y/N.

Y/N: TTYL

D: TTYL?

Y/N: Talk to you later

D: Oh, TTYL

 She snorts out a laugh, thinks that texting-Dean is kind of adorable.

 *

 After a relaxing massage, she decides to take a shower. Mainly because she still hasn’t showered after she poured coffee all over herself this morning. 

The shower’s huge too, the water pressure is excellent. The nozzles (and boy are there many of them), hit her sore spots just right.

She dresses herself back in some jeans and shirt. Normally if she’s at her home, she’d walk around in only a shirt but she’s practically a guest around here — even if Dean insists that it’s her home, she doesn’t trust it yet — and she doesn’t really know how her boss would react seeing her walking around in his apartment in only her underwear and a shirt. 

Taking her book that she didn’t get to finish this morning out into the living room, she grabs a cup of coffee before she makes herself comfortable and cozies herself up on the couch to finish her book. 

Just when she reaches the second to last page, Dean walks in, his tie already loose around his neck, “Honey, I’m home!” He smiles when he sees her staring at him, “I always wanted to say that once in my life.”

“You’re early,” She says, pushes at the button of her phone to realize that it’s almost 6pm. Normally he’s still at the office. 

Dean switches on the light for her and she doesn't even realize that it starts to get dark out. 

“Yeah, I still have a headache. It’s been like that since I woke up after the night I married Amara. Didn’t feel like working longer and leave you alone either.” He comes to sit next to her and she catches the smell of his cologne mixed with his musk. He smells delicious even after a long day and that’s not really fair. 

“Should I go get some painkillers? You just have to tell me where they are kept.”

“Nah,” He sighs, “I’ll just take them before I go to sleep. What are you up to?” He asks her, and she sees that he’s eyeing up her book that she’s still clutching in her hands. 

Her face starts to flare up. 

“Just reading a book.” She says it in an easy way, tries to sound nonchalant about it but she knows that she fails.

Dean catches the cover before she could hide it and he starts to grin, “You sap.” He stands up again when he sees that she starts to feel uncomfortable if they didn’t  change the subject soon.

“What do you want to eat? Does Pizza sound alright? I’m not in the mood to cook tonight.”

That’s when it dawns on her that she’s playing his fake wife and maybe she should have cooked him something for dinner? Because that’s what wives do right? She doesn’t fucking know because she hasn’t even been in a relationship long enough to cook anything for anyone. Except that she sometimes used to cook for Jack. Oh my god, Jack! She still has to tell him what happened! 

She gets up from the couch, abandons her book and walks to Dean who’s already in the kitchen leafing through take-out leaflets, “I’m sorry, I should have cooked you something,”

He stops in his tracks to look at her, one eyebrow raised, “What?”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to be your fake wife and I’m supposed to cook you something.”

Dean sighs, “Y/N, really. That’s not why I fake married you. You don’t have to do anything in fact. It’s okay alright? I’m a big guy and  if I want something cooked, I can do it myself.”

“Okay,” She says, still feels a little guilty about it, though. And Dean seems to sense it because he drops the leaflets and walks over to her, places his hand on the back of her neck and she catches the whiff of his cologne. It makes all the hair on her body stand up and she gets light headed. 

He lowers himself a little, looks her in the eye, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you understand? Hey, look at me.”

She does, looks straight into his green eyes. Dean Winchester has freckles. She never noticed them before, was always distracted by the green of his eyes. 

There’s a moment of silence, and she doesn’t know if he feels it too. Feels a magnetic force that pulls her towards him.

“Are we good?” He leans in closer and she can feel his hot breath.

“Yeah,” She nods.

“Good,” He says, but doesn’t quite move away yet, if anything he moves even closer. He’s closer to her than he’s ever been, “Because I want you to feel comfortable around me, okay? I’m really not your boss when we’re together. I want you to be yourself, can you do that?”

“Sure,” 

Dean smiles, showing his white fangs. Her heart races a little more. She would love to feel the teeth on her skin.

Y/N, what’s wrong with you?

He lingers a little longer, his hand still firm on the back of her neck and she feels like he’s staring into her soul. He licks his lips before he speaks, “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” 

She’s really not, at least not yet. She’s too confused to eat. Confused about the fact that she feels that she’s attracted to her own fucking boss. Someone who she’s faked married to!

“Right, how about you take that bath in the hot tube that you talked about? I’ll go take a shower and we’ll order later, huh?”

She looks out of the window and grins, because the sun’s going down and the view’s really is fabulous, “Sounds good to me.”

 *

 She slips into her room to change into a bathing suit. She doesn’t really have anything fancy, only a simple black bikini but she’s not really here to impress him, is she? She’s not really here to do more than being his fake wife, right? Right.

When she walks out to the terrace, Dean must already be in his room because she can’t see him but she did find the tub heating up and bubbling away. There’s a bottle of wine and glasses on the table next to the tub. She smiles when she thinks that he prepared it for her. She wouldn’t have guessed that he would do things like this. At least not boss Dean that she knows.

She steps into the tub and lets herself sink lower. Closing her eyes, she embraces the feel of floating outdoors.

“You didn’t pour yourself wine?” Dean’s voice suddenly jerks her back to reality. 

Y/N opens her eyes to see Dean standing there, wearing a simple shirt and sweatpants. His hair’s still damp from the shower. She’s astounded, he looks completely different. Still good, but different. More casual, more relaxed. 

“I was too excited to get in,” She smiles at him.

Dean mirrors her smile before he pours the wine for her, “You must have wine in there in order to get the full experience.” He walks over to hand it to her. 

“Thanks,” She says, and thinks whether she should ask if he wants to join her? What’s the proper hot tub etiquette? “You want to come in?”

He chuckles, “Nah, maybe some other time, I’m enjoying the view from here.” He pours himself some wine and sits down, stretching himself before his face settles into a smirk. 

She thinks it’s weird that he said he wants to enjoy the view but he’s sitting facing her. 

CH03