#in the beginning I added the sparkles as a joke but I realised it worked

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Edge of Seventeen - Chapter Eleven.

Huge thanks to everyone for your continued engagement! I’m so thrilled you’ve enjoyed the story, just one more chapter after this one now until we’ll be at a close. Well, until I begin posting the mini-sequel! ;) 

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,389

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Eventually, with a little comical coaxing from Ian into the microphone (‘Um, Angel? Can we have our vocalist back, please?’) Bella returned to the stage, playing the final two songs in Heavenly Creature’s set, Angel standing right at the barrier, watching, his heart ablaze. Nothing else mattered but her. Suddenly, he realised just how true his brother’s words had been to him those few months ago.

She’d made a mistake, and he couldn’t resent her forever for it. He loved her too much, and he knew that for sure. Getting back together was the only thing that made sense, now that he was actually free to. But god, how he’d just finished things with Mel like that. He knew she deserved way better than him, but in his defence, seeing Bella again had thrown him into panic as the reality of how hopelessly in love he still was with her crashed into him hard.  

Once their set was over, he helped them load up the back of their van, Ian driving it over to the nearby hotel they were staying at before he’d return in a cab, telling the others he’d meet them by the beer tent in about forty minutes.  

“See that’s my meeting point with the guys as well, and it’s kinda gonna be weird,” Angel began, taking Bella’s hand.  

“Well yeah, since we broke up over a year ago, and then suddenly, poof! Here I am again!” she chuckled, kissing his bare shoulder.  

“Um...” he cringed, shaking his head. “It ain’t that. It’s because I arrived with one girl, and now I’ll be leaving with another. I’m not too sure if she’s still here or not, actually.”

Immediately, she ground to a halt. “Okay, details.”

“Yeah,” he paused, shame coiling in him. “When I saw you up there, it hit me so fucking hard, I knew that I’d been lying to myself for the last nine months, with the girl I was with up until a half hour ago. I finished with her, then came straight back into the tent to watch you play the rest of the song that had just ripped my damned heart out.”

Bella’s jaw dropped. “Baby!” she exclaimed.

“I know.”

“Oh, Angel, that’s so naughty!”

He winced. “I know!”

She then widened her eyes. “Oh god, am I about to get my head kicked in for pinching you from her?” Her eyes continued to get bigger, lifting up his black vest and pulling it over her head, making a noise of trepidation from within.  

“Baby girl, I ain’t got room in there for you too. Come out.”

“I can see!” she muffled. “Blimey, you’ve got even more stacked!”

“Hmm,” he hummed as she emerged. “I had to try and get over you somehow, so adding in an extra hour at the gym was how I started. That part worked, the getting over you not so much.”  

She pulled a silent ‘awww’ face, stroking his face, pulling him down to her level and kissing him. “So, we’re definitely back together, then?”

He snorted, holding her close. “As if you need to ask!”

She beamed, falling into happy kisses with him, her insides all lit up and sparkling. Finally, she had him back. “And I want you to know, because I promise solemnly. I will never, ever lie to you again. Not even a little one. Never, ever, ever.”  

“I know. I know, B. Now, stop panicking and just kiss me some more.” She was only too happy to oblige. Once at the beer tent, the line was ridiculously long, Angel happy to see Richie and Seth (who was actually old enough to purchase alcohol) emerge from the front, the latter passing him a beer, Richie handing Bella a huge ice water, as she always drank immediately after a performance, to soothe her vocal cords down a little again.  

They stood and watched Lamb of God playing over on the main stage from a distance, Angel knowing that pretty much everyone bar the girls and EZ (who he always joked was too uptight for it) would be in the moshpit at that point, guessing correctly when he saw the group heading back over to them about fifteen minutes after the end of their set, Coco with a bloodied eyebrow, not a shirt between any of them, looking pit worn.  

Angel bit his lips together as he saw the confused faces of Gilly and Riz, both pointing at Bella with looks of ‘huh?’, the former then being deafened by his girlfriend literally screaming, running with her arms open, flying at Bella at about a hundred miles an hour, Bella’s scream filling the air along with it as they embraced. One might say Amelia had missed her, not keeping in touch since it would have made things difficult for Angel.  

“Do I dare even ask what the fuck happened?” Gilly questioned, pointing over as where the girls got reacquainted.  

Angel shook his head. “Might be best you don’t know, but I think I have a tonne of shit coming my way when Mel catches up with me again.”

“And do you care?”

“Does it make me an asshole that other than feeling bad about how I dropped it on her out of the blue, I don’t? I mean, I didn’t wanna hurt the chick, but...”  

Gilly nodded. “Yeah, kinda does, bro. But that’s the one for you right there. I always wondered, why you two called it quits.” Jerking his head in Bella’s direction, Angel looked over, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, she is.” He didn’t say anything further, because nothing else needed to be said. He was just glad that Bishop had kept to his word about not telling anyone the reason why he and Bella had broken up, because if he hadn’t, Gilly wouldn’t have said what he just had. He stood back and drank his beer, talking with Seth and Richie, including and introducing them to everyone so they didn’t feel left out while Bella and Amelia chatted to one another, the former returning to his side before long, wrapping her arm around his waist as she leaned into him.  

“What’s the great, big smile for?” he asked, hand stroking her back.  

“You,” she confirmed, kissing his chest. “I love you.”  

God, how he’d missed those words, spoken on her sweet voice, those dulcet British tones he’d longed to hear. “I love you too.” He had her back, he had his baby, his heart and soul, his beautiful Bella back in his arms. Elated didn’t quite cut it. The guilt of just finishing with Mel kept on reverberating through his chest, though, the happier he felt himself grow, Bella sensing it as the day grew to evening. Especially when he checked his phone, finding one hell of an angry voicemail message.  

“Shit,” he winced, hanging up, leaning into her as she sat between his legs, not able to see the festival headliners on stage, but not especially being into Avenged Sevenfold, she didn’t mind. She was more concerned at the mess her boyfriend had gotten himself into.  

“Where is she now?” she asked, stroking the arm he had wrapped around her chest.

“Back at the hotel we checked into, absolutely seething at me,” he confirmed, Bella nodding.

“Do you think it might be a good idea that you go and talk to her, then meet me back at mine? We’re at the Highwood Inn.” Instantly, Angel groaned. “That’s where you are too, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. What room? Come on, universe, kick me in the balls and have it so I have my last girlfriend and current one in the rooms next to each other!” he yelled, lifting his head to the sky, Bella giggling.  

“Two two seven.”

He breathed a small sigh of relief. “Thank fuck, she’s in three eighty-two, so a completely different floor.”

She was thoughtful for a moment. “Would it help if I talked to her, woman to woman?”

His facial expression said it all, but he followed it with words. Delivered in panic at the very idea of Bella coming face to face with Mel. “Hell no! Oh god, no, no, no, baby girl. She’ll slug you, and I know you’re not the fighting kind, but Mel? She very much is.”

“Yo, she broke some chick’s nose one time because she dared flirt with your guy there. Take a wide berth, England,” Coco interjected with, tapping Bella’s leg affectionately before turning back to wrap both arms around Nala.  

Angel pointed in his direction. “Yeah, what he said.” He made a soft ‘awww’ noise at her spooked face, holding her close. “She’s really serene and sweet, but the fucking temper she has, shit. So no, absolutely no deal about you going to talk to her. You can wait in your room, and order some ice, because I think I probably have a punch coming my way. Nothing less than I deserve. I couldn’t wait, though. I couldn’t fucking go on one second longer being with her when I saw you again. I think I’d known for months, you know, that I’d seek you out again, as soon as you turned eighteen, regardless of what I said at the time. I mean, I know today was by chance...”

She pressed her finger to his lips then, halting his gabbling, as he always did when he was getting worked up about something. “Shhhh, baby,” she soothed, kissing him. “Today wasn’t by chance, either. It was fate, in the stars, cosmic alignment. It had to be, for you to have been outside that tent, at the precise moment I was singing the very song I wrote about you.”

He shrugged a little, kissing her hair. “I dunno how much I believe in all of that, but I think I can make an exception here.”  

She smiled, leaning into him, breathing in his scent, comforted after months and months of longing for him. “So, when do you want to face the music?

Not really being bothered about watching the headliners close, and knowing the crush of people waiting to leave would add time to him being able to go and sort out the mess he’d left with Mel and then swiftly get himself back where he belonged, Angel decided to leave right then, saying goodbye to everyone, walking down to the nearest exit hand in hand with Bella.

Riding to the hotel with Bella on the back of his bike felt right, he’d missed it, taking one hand off to reach back and stroke her leg like he always used to when he rode, Bella resting her chin on his shoulder, so in love, she felt as if she had fireworks going off inside her. That sublime feeling of happiness was tinged, though, the sweetness of Bella’s nature of course dictating she feel a pang of guilt over the fact Angel had broken up with his girlfriend for her. So strong his love was, he hadn’t even known whether that was what she wanted or not. He just knew that he couldn’t go on as he had been.  

But then, he must have known, she thought. He’d have heard it in her voice, singing the song she wrote about him. He’d said when they’d parted that they weren’t meant to be, but quietly, Bella had always known otherwise, and selfishly, it was why she wasn’t completely consumed with bad feelings over taking him from another; truly, he was still hers in the time they’d been separated. It was only her age that had ever pulled them apart in the first place, and the lie that had facilitated it all to begin with.  

“Okay, I’ll see you in a little while,” he told her ten minutes later at her hotel room door, kissing her softly, not really wanting to go and face up to his shit, but knowing he had to. He was thirty-eight; he needed to do better at his age. “Love you so much.”

“Love you even more.” she cooed, nuzzling him, stroking his chest. She slid back into the room, letting go of his hand right at the last moment, smiling at he winked at her, closing the door and waiting, until she allowed herself to be silly. Kicking off her boots, she bounced on the bed, squealing with excitement.  

He still heard it as he walked up the hallway. “My little cutie.” he grinned, noting how thin the walls were. Oh, how the people either side of that room were in for a restless night, because once he returned, he planned to fuck her into the next century, he’d missed her so damned much.  

However, before that...  

“Jesus Christ!” He dodged the shoe flying at his head just in time, the small ankle boot hitting the back of the hotel room door. And then, the floodgate opened...

“You fucking asshole, Angel! You fucking asshole!” Mel raged, pacing around, her other shoe following it before she ran at him, swinging, punching him in the face. He allowed her that one, not that it was particularly hard, but his cheekbone still stung from it. No more followed, though, other than a few clenched fists thumping against his chest, Mel pushing back away from him, continuing her tirade. “Why were you ever with me, if it was her you wanted all along? Because you did, didn’t you? That’s why you never covered that damned tattoo on your chest, or why you kept the picture of you and her behind the shelves in your bedroom.”

He’d forgotten all about that.  

“Yeah, I found it!” she raged, seeing the surprise on his face. “You just strung me along for nine fucking months, all the while knowing you were still in love with her! Why, Angel?”

The ins and outs of it weren't her business, but he knew he owed her somewhat of an explanation, because she was right. He had strung her along, not being as emotionally invested as he should have been with her. “It was complicated with us, and that’s why we broke up in the first place. I tried to get over her, find myself a happy life without her in it, and I thought I had with you. You’re right, though. I did want her, and because of that, you and me never really stood a fair chance.” He paused for breath, knowing he had to deliver the words that would hurt her further. “I was still too in love with her to be able to love you and truly be with you in the way you deserved, and for that, I’m really fucking sorry. I am. I know you likely won’t believe it, but I never meant to hurt you. I take on board that I have, though.”

“Yeah!” she scoffed, pacing. “Yeah, you did. Get the fuck out of here, go back to her. I never want to fucking see you again.”

He nodded, moving into the room and picking up his small bag he’d brought with him. “I understand. I’ll sort out the things you left at my place, give ‘em to Amelia to pass on to you.”  

She didn’t reply, standing there, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry. “I’m so sorry, Mel. I hope you find someone who’s capable of giving you what you’re looking for, but that was never me, and I should have owned up to that a long time ago.”

Her reply was immediate, visceral. “Just leave!”

He pressed his lips together thinly, walking to the door and letting himself out, breathing a sigh of relief. He felt like a complete asshole, but he was free. Free to head back to exactly where he belonged.  

“Baby,” Bella cooed, letting him in, her fingers gingerly stroking the red welt on his cheek.  

“Eh,” he sighed. “I expected it. And I deserved it.” Smiling, he then sank into her embrace, absorbing her, his entire body sighing with relief. Finally... finally...  

They stood like that, in a silent, loving embrace, stroking one another wordlessly for what felt like a long time, touches reacquainting, familiarising themselves with each other again, Angel pulling back to kiss her, softly at first, before the fire of longing began to roar right through him. Still though, it was steady edging, their clothes being shed slowly, revelling in the feel of each other’s skin, both naked by the time they fell to the bed, entangled around one another.  

Shuddered breaths fluttered, hands explored, kisses pressed, gilded in fire and honey, everything slow, sensual, no rush needed, just enjoyment, soaking it all up, drinking it in, being reunited at long last. Her fingers stroked over the familiar patterns of his tattoos, moving her mouth, her fingers clasping his as she laid kisses from his wrist and over his forearm, Angel’s lips closing over the pink peak of her nipple, her soft gasp sending a jolt through him, a sharp edge against all that was soft and rolling, his tongue thrumming over the little bud, grazing it with the briefest hint of teeth.

Her short nails dragged down his arms, his mouth slipping, warmth winding within her as it wet a circle at her navel, goosebumps rising up, the braille of her body detailing the message of how he made it feel, his mouth lowering again, tongue flattening a lick over her slit, hands pushing her thighs wider before it delved over her folds hungrily, Bella crying out softly. Going without sex for thirteen months had definitely given her some pent-up longing, longing only to be sated by the one man she’d craved for.

The tip of his tongue glided to her clit, laying heat over it with the softest of licks, his breath hot at her soaking folds, Bella gasping as her hands swept through the black silk of his hair, tugging gently, her thighs writhing against his face, Angel grinning to himself. “Missed me, baby?”  

“Oh my god, so fucking much!”

Her reaction had him laughing quietly, laying a kiss against her sex. “You don’t have to miss me any longer, mi amor.” Sliding his tongue over the little swell of her clit once more, he sent fire roaring through her, a blade of pleasure slicing to her very bones as she shook, the tip of his tongue skimming dewy pink nerve endings, his thumb pulling back the soft skin covering her bundle, making way for his lips to suck upon it gently.  

Sparks rolled through the very marrow of her, the flush of ecstasy evoked by his mouth ever escalating, her body host to spasmodic judders as he caressed her dewy slit with all the fervour of a man half parched. Lapping at her, like the rolling of a wave cresting the shore, her body the paradise he revelled in, he gave her nothing short of sublimely heavenly pleasure with every precise lick.  

Alternating, he bestowed firmness, Bella becoming giddy, teased with softer strokes, Angel sucking again until she was lost in the tide of his bliss, adrift from herself on the sea of pleasure he had her drowning in ceaselessly.

“Oh my god, it’s too good, fuck!” she gritted, his tongue driving into her burning hole as she writhed against his face, hot breaths fluttering against her silken folds like a summer tempest, balmy, wet, lingering and captivating.  

She mewled continuously, her hands clutching tight in his hair before slipping to his arms, fingers trembling as she gripped the thick rigidity of his tattooed arms and bucked against his mouth, his tongue… the lips that continued to suck her the edges of nirvana. One last, well place lave of his tongue sent her reeling over the edge, tumbling into the release that sent glimmers sizzling up her spine, her cresting wail feral, her body flowing, ebbing and throbbing through it, Angel emerging with a smile, his tongue dragging a long, hot lick up the centre of her body, reaching between them, guiding his cock to her soaking opening and then...

“Ahhh, fuck.”  

“Missed me, baby?” she hummed, not hiding the entertainment from her face, taking his in her hands, kissing him madly.  

“Yeah,” he breathed, rocking his hips into her, filling her entirely. “And I’ll be damned if I ain’t gonna spend all night showing you just how much.”

[nattravn-art]

Heya @prairiemule! I’m your backup cupid for @rdrsecretcupid2020!

I possibly couldn’t pass up on your second wish, showing the sibling dynamic between Arthur and John! I have a very soft spot for found family tropes and half feral child John just gives me life.

Considering that in game, family activities are very often linked with fishing, I chose that theme. I hope you like it! :D

[tteokdoroki]

all the love in the world | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.1K

⇝ rating: 18+, mature.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, engaged!au, fluff and smut.

⇝ summary: as hard to believe as it may seem, bakugou lives for time off, where the days begin with him waking up by your side and  end with him falling asleep right next to you, while he thinks of all the ways he can love you during the hours in between.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! fluffy domestic bakugou ( i think this needed a warning okay? ), smut ( characters aged up to 20s ), soft morning sex, fingering ( female recieving ), dry humping, light!praise, heavy!breeding kink, switch!reader, dom!bakugou.

⇝ author’s note(s): hellooo my loves ! as a celebration of me reaching 100+ followers, i bring you my very first written imagine !! i love the idea of domestic baku so i hope you enoy reading as i did writing !! special thanks to @ozzy-bozzy​ for the teddy bear bracelets idea hehe

⇝ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou considered himself to be a very lucky person.

when he was younger he’d been blessed by a powerful quirk which only lead him to exceed his classmates back in U.A. he’d graduated said school’s hero course top of his class, even if he’d failed his provisionals the first time round— nothing could stop him from becoming the best.

so when the hot headed blonde bagged the role of side kick at a top hero agency and then launched himself to the highest points in the hero charts as a pro later on, katsuki felt like all of his dreams had come true.

that was until, he’d proposed to you.

you were katsuki’s final dream, for him to wait for you at the end of the aisle— your watery smile just for him. 

that’s the vision he saw in his sleep. when you had said yes to him, the night you got engaged under the stars and amongst the roses, it was then that the explosive hero had realised how lucky he truly was.

he had loved you for a long time, katsuki had— he almost couldn’t remember the time when he hadn’t. in the time that you’d spent together; soft gazes and lingering touches, you’d taught him a lot and he’d learned through your tolerance and generosity, something that had rubbed off on him, something he’d so desperately needed to cool down his hot demeanour.

he was grateful for a lot of things, all of the things you’d taught him— but mostly the entirety of you. while you’d always said that neither of you completed each other and only made one another better, bakugou knew that his life would be complete with you in it forever.

 he knew  from the moment you’d pinned him down underneath you during training back in high school— that he was going to make you his wife someday.

“jesus katsu, why’re you up s’early? it’s supposed to be our day off,” you mumble into your silk sheets; his scent sewn into your pillows. katsuki likes the orange silk that lines your bed; mostly because of the colour and partly because other fabrics irritate his skin. with sleepy eyes, you blink up at the blonde and catch him staring mid act. like always, bakugou looks away with a heated blush and paws it away from his cheeks. “whatcha lookin’ at dummy?”

one of kastuki’s favourite things is the way you look when you first wake up, groggily rubbing the sleep away from your eyes with a pout on your lips as the sun hits your face just right— creating a halo effect around you, like you’re his guardian angel…but he wouldn’t ever admit that to you, at least not until his wedding vows. “it’s the only time i get to look at you without hearin’ the dumb shit that comes out your mouth, woman.” katsuki grumbles back, finally meeting your eyes again.  

he can clearly see the love glittering your irises and the faint smile that plays teasingly on your lips as if you know that he’s joking. unwillingly; bakugou feels himself mirror the grin that you bare and a happy warmth then spreads across his chest.

“we still have the whole day ahead for you to ogle me like that katsuki bakugou,” you hum sweetly, the tail end of your words falling into a light giggle. the ash blonde feels his heart flutter just from the sound; a candied melody to his ears that he could never get tired of hearing. 

reaching over your shoulder, katsuki uses his warm hands to roll you over onto his awaiting lap. 

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as the sheets fall from your body to reveal yourself in one of his shirts with an old merch design and your fingers weave their way into his pretty blonde hair. 

now that you’re in his lap; the pro hero can see the smirk making its way into your face as you look down at him lovingly. “seems like you were doing more than just looking baby…”

your hips grind down against your lover’s now prominent erection that sits hidden in his dark sweats— earning a slight gasp from the man himself. “s-shut up, dumbass…” bakugou growls through gritted teeth while you move above him. 

his words stay lodged in his throat, he wants to tell you that you’re always on his mind no matter what he’s doing or looking at but instead they die down as he drops his head to your neck, leaving sweet kisses along the column of it.

early morning love making with you was what katsuki bakugou considered one of his many blessings. he loves being this close to you— feeling every dip in your skin and kissing every mark on your body, his lips work their way up from your jawline to your chin and finally attempting to land a solid kiss to your own lips.

“nuh, katsu—“ your breathless whine fills the air, sending shivers down the spine of the man below you. he moves up to kiss you again, gripping your hips tightly while your movements begin to sync. “no, morning…morning breath…”

bakugou huffs, hand finding the back of your head to tilt it down into a soft liplock— contrasting with the harshness of his earlier movements. “fuck morning breath, i haven’t made love to you properly in a fucking week so let me kiss you. fuck.” usually, katsuki would have added his salty pet name of ‘shitty woman’ to the tail end of his phrases but he bites his tongue, saving it for later.

you give into your fiancé then, falling in love with the way his lips meld against yours so passionately all over again. fingers that belong to bakugou dance underneath your shirt, finding you bare within the fabric. one hand slips between your plush thighs, smoothly rubbing circles into your swelling clit ever so gently.

your breath hitches as katsuki traps you under his touch, playing with your folds as they begin to grow slick and form a wet patch on his deep grey sweats, making him groan. 

the explosive pro pushes two of his digits past your entrance, curling them and watching with sparkling scarlet eyes as your mouth hangs open in of the prettiest moans katsuki’s ever heard— his mouth falls open with you while your head tilts back, exposing your sweat glimmering skin to the sun’s rays. “feel good baby? yeah, you like that?” he mumbles condescendingly, slowly pumping them inside of you. “yeah you do,  yeah you fuckin’ do.”

“yeah, katsu...more…” a  breathless moan escapes you with every thrust of bakugou’s hot fingers, the cheeky bastard setting off small scale explosions to stimulate you from within. he’s hot, the heat from his body filling the space between you and spreading right down to your glistening mound— causing slick to gush from your tiny abused hole. 

you can feel his cock pulse beneath you with every twist of his fingers to reach that spongy pleasure spot deep within your leaking hot walls.

katsuki’s thick fingers stretch open your tiny hole, making your mouth water at the thought of his weighty cock being the next thing press into you but your raging thoughts are swiftly interrupted by your fiancé— who pulls from you completely and sucks the two fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of your sweet nectar.

katsuki keeps his vermillion eyes locked on you, the lewd action making saliva pool on your tongue. his own pink muscle darts out to wet his lips, no doubt spreading the taste of you across them before making a move to kiss you. 

the pro is quickly stopped, your hands that once roamed his bare back and messed hair, now pinning his own above his head.

bakugou is a strong man, he wouldn’t have been a top hero if he wasn’t— he trained constantly and sparred often with his fellow heroes but he doesn’t resist when you grip his wrists in your free hand, releasing his hard cock from it’s restraints before it slaps against his well toned stomach.

milky precum leaks against his warm skin, while you prepare yourself to mount him. the pair of you let out a groan in unison as you sink down on the hero’s thick length— as if the tensions and stresses of the week have melted away just him being sheathed inside of you.

“mnnn, so fuckin’ tight baby, gonna need to fuck you open again…”

bakugou’s voice is low and gravelly from the early morning, just how you like as his hips roll up into yours— further pushing his fat cock into you. his tip barely grazes your cervix  as you set the pace, lifting yourself up and down to bounce on your lover’s length. 

the way you feel inside, your soft velvety walls and gushing pussy make him buck up into you with more fever, as his own symphony of moans and weightless gasps dance through your ears. “yeah? take this pussy katsuki…m-make it yours,” you sigh, grip on his wrists loosening to the point where you set him free.  the blonde’s hands immediately move to grip your ass tightly— smirking at you lazily while the pads of his fingers sink into your flesh.

you look beautiful to him, bouncing on his cock and dripping all over his pelvis under the early morning sun, the way the gold lights up your hazy lust filled eyes.  

the fire of desire burns brightly in the depths of katsuki’s stomach, love finds its way into each of his thrusts from then on— mind clouding with the desire to fill you up so good with his love as the leaking  head of his thick girth drags against your walls, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. “that’s right yn baby…fuck that cock, fuck yeah baby,” he whispers brokenly to you, chest rising and falling desperately while sweat beads on his hairline. “love you, love you s’much...”

bakugou watches your gaze on him soften at his confession, the words he doesn’t say often but shows you everyday still hanging in the thick, warm air.  “i love you katsu, p-please,” your erratic thrusts slow to somewhat of a passionate grind, two lovers pressed hotly against one another as the sounds of your moans twist with that of skin on skin.

knot in your stomach tightening, katsuki can feel your release creeping on you from the way you clench around him at every plunge deep inside your sweet hole. strong arms wrap around you, katsuki noticing how you shake from pleasure above him while he brings you down onto loving thrusts as if to draw you closer. 

“gonna cum!”

your fiancé nods into your neck, rubbing smooth circles over your back as he pulls out of your heat completely and earns a needy whine from you. your hole spasms around nothing, right on the edge of release before bakugou forces his girth back into your accepting pushing. “cum for me angel, right on this cock,” he pants, holding you close while he rocks into you. “i've got you baby, let it all out…”

“mph, baku-! oh !”

hips stilling above his, you scratch and claw at any part of bakugou’s skin that you can— shaking as your release splashes against him, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head and white spots dancing across your vision. the tightness of your heat drives the pro right over the edge, hot ropes of thick cum painting your insides white as his release reaches your womb.

the pair of you lay still, catching your breath as you collapse forward on your lover’s chest. while your breathing slows, katsuki rubs warming circles into your back to help calm you down— only smiling softly when you look up at him with clear, affectionate eyes. “did so good for me yn, fuckin’ love it when you take my cock like that first thing in the morning,” his words are soft on his usually sharp tongue, bakugou smoothing a thumb over your cheek while using a forefinger to tilt your head up into a sweet kiss

“always and only for you, my love,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut at the simple gesture even after you pull away. “and if you keep cummin’ in me like that katsuki ‘m gonna end up pregnant one of these days…”

bakugou smirks, pressing smaller kisses all over your face to make you giggle. you smile and greedily accept each one, loving the these tender moments between yourself and your fiancé.  “maybe that’s the fucking point, dumbass,”  he quips, biting on your cheek after landing a kiss there. “trying to put a shitty little brat in you.”

despite the small bite to his words, a blush still manages to creep its way onto katsuki’s face as you lay your head down on his chest with a smack to his waist. the ash blonde means every word and you know it too, he can tell by the knowing smile and slight gleam in your eye.

you fall back asleep not long after bakugou cleans you up.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy counting every mark and bite he’d left on you as he tenderly wiped between your thighs and massaged over your skin. 

but he loved how cute you looked when curled up on his chest more, your hand clings to bakugou’s shoulder as if to check he’s still there even in your sleep— giving the hero ample opportunity to play with the ‘teddy bear’ bracelet thats cuffed to your wrist. you’d made it for one of your anniversaries; matching the ‘grizzly bear’ one on his own.

prying himself from your arms is no easy task for katsuki, your grip on him like an adorable iron vice or a child with a teddy bear. after setting himself free, the ash blonde with the crimson eyes heads down to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you— it was some what of a routine on your days off together, you always got the munchies after sex and bakugou knew just how to soothe your roaring appetite.

as he worked with the eggs and other breakfast ingredients, katsuki thought back to how much you praised him for his skills in the kitchen— he knew how much you loved his cooking and he would do anything to see you smile.

“god katsuki, i might have to start taking more days off it means i get to see my grizzly bear in the kitchen like this,” you hum from place leaning against the door frame. 

your fiancé turns round to face you with a light smirk, glimmering eyes inviting you further into the room. the explosive pro holds the sizzling pan he’d taken off the stove high above your head as you cuddle into his side, breathing in his warm caramel scent.

katsuki clicks his tongue, staring down at you fondly. “tell that to the fucking villains who fuck up the city every other day, maybe then we’d have more time to relax.” he counters, pulling a sweet chuckle from your sweet lips.

“if we start handing out your cooking, they’ll probably start turning themselves in!” you tease your lover back, swiping a bit of the pancakes from the pan above your head. katsuki grumbles and pats your ass indulgently— the supple skin peaking out from under the shirt that’s found it’s way back over your form. it’s a silent scold for eating before he’s fixed you a plate of all your favourites.

as usual bakugou pulls out your chair at the table, pressing his lips to your hairline before putting your steaming plate in front of you. your mouth waters while katsuki takes his seat opposite you with rolling eyes as he watches you tuck in to your breakfast. 

the entirety of your meal is filled with lingering gazes and hums of delight while you eat, almost as if you’re back on your first date ( bakugou spent half of the time watching you eat rather than doing so himself, but he just wanted to see if you liked the place ). 

leaning over the table to wipe syrup from your chin, the blonde smirks— quiet words falling calmly from his lips. “what do you want to do today, sweetheart?”

the birds chirps lovingly outside of your window, dancing under the sunshine— they remind you of your early mentor and often patrol partner hawks, who you needed to remember to invite to dinner soon. 

the weather is nice today and that gives you an idea. “let’s go out,” your eyes sparkle with a million dreams, each one bakugou wants to live out with you. “to the park with the roses, the pink ones where you—“

“where i proposed, got it,” katsuki smiles, the fond memory catching the tail end of his words. “i hear they introduced some new blooms too.”

you mirror his expression; stabbing your fork through a strawberry in the bowl of fresh fruit your lover had prepared for you. you hold the fork out to his lips and watch amusedly as he chomps the fruit from its place. “care to escort me, lover bear?”

“who else is going to? dumbass.”

“miss nightsky ! will ya sign my bag!”

“that’s a nice bag sweet one, you sure i can sign it?”

katsuki loves the way you are with kids, even though you’re a massive child yourself.

the pair of you decided to walk to the park; since the nice weather held up and it wasn’t too far from your private neighbourhood— even though it took a little longer to get there than expected. 

not that either of you minded, but many curious fans stopped to talk and ask for pictures; some even asked for autographs which you happily gave them. while the mighty ground zero was slightly grumbly about it, he adored how kind and patient you were with everyone you met no matter how old they were.

his vermillion eyes, though brownish looking under golden light, sparkle as you ruffle the little kid’s hair and wave politely to their awaiting parents. bakugou wants to have kids with you one day. 

it was something he hadn’t really thought about until recently, he knew it would be difficult, with both of you reaching the heights of your careers and the pair of you were still very private about your relationship as well, with word of your recent engagement already slipping into the tabloids.

there was no doubt that they’d speculate about your marriage too, no matter how private you kept it. keeping a child secret would be even harder. 

and yet; the thought of you holding a baby…his baby would, on some nights lull him to sleep.

you squeal like a little girl when the ash blonde stops to buy you an ice cream from a van by the entrance of the park; he can’t stand how much you love mint chocolate chip but buys you a towering double scoop anyways.  “how do you even eat that toothpastey shit?” bakugou grumbles, finishing off his orange popsicle as you walk into the flower garden.

“says the one who likes orange, you have no taste katsuki bakugou.” you chide but take his freehand nonetheless. the explosive pro’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand while you make your way through and he can’t help but pluck one of the pretty blooms from the bushes to tuck behind your ear.

you scold him for taking the flowers but your smile betrays you as katsuki dips you for a honeyed kiss on the lips. 

he’s never one for PDA but this was your spot, here just last year bakugou had sunk to his knees in front of you with an expensive diamond ring you were eyeing months before ( you would never say anything but katsuki always picked up on these things ). 

he would also never admit it, but his hand shook with every word that passed his lips and you were sure he had been crying harder than you were while he slipped a ring on your finger.

your secret kisses and tangled limbs hiding deep in the rose bushes are soon completely soaked by an onslaught of unexpected rain.

you shriek at the rain while katsuki grabs your hand, free arms thrown over your heads as you make a dash from the flower garden and head for the main streets in order to catch a bus.

the pair of you giggle as you stumble onto the vehicle, ringing out your drenched clothes and wiping at your wet faces as it heads home. bakugou pulls you into his arms, head resting atop yours to draw you closer— the heat from his quirk allows him to keep you warm and you get a load full of his sugary scent as well ( not that you mind ).

you stay like that on through the rustling traffic, cuddling like a cat to your heated fiancé but a tug on the bottom of bakugou’s wet shirt captures your attention. the pair of you look down to catch the innocent eyes belonging to a darling little girl. “u-uh h-hi mister gwound zewo!” the little one stumbles through her words and in the corner of your eyes you can spot the girl’s mother and give her a reassuring grin.

bakugou’s gaze softens at the curly haired girl and releases you to crouch down to her level despite the shaking bus.  his hand still holds onto yours though. 

he ruffles her hair with his free hand, making your heart warm— there was a side of katsuki the public never really got to see, where the hotheaded pro could be tender and quiet and often quite reserved. 

the media got a kick out of playing on the ash blonde’s explosive nature but moments like this let the real bakugou shine through.

“hey there kiddo, whatcha’ got there?” katsuki mumbles delicatley, noticing the girl hiding something behind her back.

“tisswue! for my favouwite hewo!” the little one says, gingerly holding it out to the blonde’s wet face for him to use. bakugou taps his cheek and cleans closer to let the little girl wipe his face with a tiny chubby hand. they chatter for the rest of the ride home— the girl bashfully twirling her hair around her fingers as katsuki compliments her quirk.

leaning your head on katsuki’s soused shoulder while you walk home, you look up at him with an adoring expression, wondering what he’d be like with a little girl of your own. “that was quiet adorable mister ground zero, you stole my hear away!” you tease, kissing your linked hands.

“yeah? well don’t get used to it shitty woman.” he says through gritted teeth and marches you both through the rain to get you home but the blush on his face tells you otherwise. if you ever had a daughter, you could only imagine what he’d be like with her.

katsuki heads straight for the shower when you get in, leaving you to pick a movie and order takeout as you’d discussed on the way home.

it was a regular routine for you both on nights off; you always picked the movie because if you left it up to your fiancé you’d end up watching some boring documentary on all might or cooking ( he was a closeted nerd at heart ). 

you settle on a cheesy romcom that you’ve seen about a hundred times because for one;  it’s your favourite and two, you’ll never get tired of seeing bakugou cry towards the end of the movie.

“take out should be here in twenty!” you call to your lover, when he passes by you to enter your living room.

“got it, now go wash up before you catch a cold, stupid—“ the ends of katsuki’s words are cut off by your stream of giggles, bouncing off your cream coloured walls. your ash blonde fiancé has half a mind to curse you out for slapping his ass through his fresh set of sweat pants but rolls his eyes nonetheless. 

he finishes pulling his tank top over his head while heading deeper into the room, not wanting to answer the door without one ( as much as your regular delivery driver would like that ).

while in the shower, you manage to scrub away stains of the rain and soreness from the day— washing over sweet love marks from katsuki with pride. a temporary reminder of his eternal love for you and you only. 

there’s already a change of clothes waiting for you when you step out of the shower; one of his old shirts and a set of boxers that you slip into comfortably. your nostrils are filled with nothing but the alluring scent of burning sugar, the traces left by bakugou himself.

he’s already munching on a box of tempura by the time you’ve headed back downstairs, crimson eyes light up when they land on you and you make a dive for the couch— rolling into katsuki’s side. “did you tip the delivery driver?” you ask, watching as your fiancé dips a piece of the food into some sauce before he holds it up to your lips.

“damn right i did, i didn’t wanna though…they kept staring at my arms,” bakugou revels in the way you laugh around the piece of food he pushes into your mouth. you chew with a grateful smile, the look of amusement never leaving your pretty face. “whatcha laughin’ at dumbass?”

“i think you forget how much the public loves your arms, ground zero.”

as soon as you press play on the movie, time seems to fly away from you both— the air is filled with streams of laughter and moments where you swipe from one another’s plates, picking on one another fondly. somehow by the time the film reaches it’s climax the food has been devoured and you’ve ended up huddling into bakugou’s chest. 

fingers laced with yours, bakugou twirls the diamond engagement ring you have on, around your finger, smiling at the precious reminder that you’re to be his forever and always.  “where do you think we’ll be in the future?” you question quietly, nuzzling into your fiancé’s side.

“married, of course.” crimson eyes find yours in the dimly lit room, almost rolling annoyance as if your question is the dumbest thing in the world. in response, you lean up and squish the explosive pro’s cheeks together and beam up at him while he scowls at you.

“stupid, you know that’s not what i meant,” the words despite harsh, leave your lips dreamily and a contented expression crosses your face. “i see us with kids, in a house much bigger than this one and a backyard that stretches for miles and miles—“ your words die warmly in your throat, figuring that you’ve gotten slightly carried away with the fanticies you’ve made for yourself and katsuki. 

in your mind, you can’t help but conjour up a litter of tiny bakugou’s running around a plush green garden— maybe a little dog too and your heart swells in your chest at the idea.

the hot head squeezes your hand, resurfacing you from your sea of thoughts. “you want kids? with me?” his voice is barely above a whisper, all of his vulnerabilities splayed out in the tone as he looks at you warmly.

“a whole family with you, as many as you want.”

suddenly, bakugou has you flipped onto your back and pinned underneath his muscular frame. 

his warm breath fans across your face making your eyes fall heavy with adoration. “four.” the blonde grunts, swooping down to brush his lips gently across yours, not quite kissing you much to your dismay. “i want four of those snotty little gremlins with you, maybe have the fifth by accident and then we’ll get a big fucking house for them to destroy—“

“f-five kids katsu?” you gasp out your words at katsuki starts to press increasingly harsh kisses to your jawline, settling on your neck while he licks over bites he’d left earlier today. 

bakugou murmurs something about ‘you said as many as i want’ before he’s growling at your hands that find their way into his blonde locks, tugging on them tightly as pleasure overwhelms your senses. 

he hums against your sweet skin, finding his place between your legs at the same time as his thoughts take him away from you. he’d love to see you pregnant, so full of his love and his children.

the movie is long forgotten by now as lust settles in every corner of the room. hands push beneath your shirt, groping and massaging your breasts to pull all sorts of sounds from you. 

bakugou forces a knee between your thighs, finally capturing your lips in a hungry and heated kiss— his tongue slips in your mouth after he pinches your thigh, fighting yours in a passionate dance for dominance. “gonna fuck a shitty little brat into you, yn,” katsuki almost whines as he pulls away from your inviting lips to press your foreheads together. you look gorgeous beneath him, flustered with swollen lips from each of your rough kisses and there’s no doubt in his mind you’re thinking the same about him. “gonna fill you up so good, gonna make pretty babies with you, hah?”

“ka-katsuki!” you can’t help but mewl at his breathless sinful words while you fist at his tank top. everything is hot, burning hot and you grind up into him with a newfound desperation, the friction against his hardening length sending your eyes rolling with ecstasy.. “we’re not even— mmm god, right there— we’re not even married yet!”

“gonna be at some point, why waste time fucking trying? not when i can cum in you and give you one right fucking now—“  bakugou moans heavily into your ear, diving back into a sloppy kiss as he fumbles around with the string of his sweatpants. 

you’re whimpering out for him, pulling the blonde into a lustful trance while you make a move to kick off your underwear when the sound of shattering glass pierces through the bubble of horniness you’ve both created. “shit.”

you both freeze and your matching gazes drop to the floor; a rapidly growing stain of red wine spilling onto the carpet under the coffee table your take out was on. 

the fluffy white rug had been a housewarming gift that katsuki begrudgingly accepted from your old school friend and fellow pro, izuku midoriya— so the sight of the now ruined rug makes you both burst out into harmonious laughter. you’re sure the number one wouldn’t mind. it’d make a great wedding story too.

you focus your eyes back on katsuki, cupping his face as that same love filled smile from earlier returns to your face. ”let’s start trying tomorrow, then?”

“tomorrow it is.” bakugou grins back, dotting your hairline with sweet pecks before cuddling into you.

baby making can wait for now, he supposes, for with another day off— he has all the time and all the love in the world to give to you.

[mandoalorian]

Aphrodite’s Stone [Maxwell Lord x Reader] SMUT *sex pollen*

Summary: Your boss, Maxwell Lord, tasks you to acquire an important gemstone from the Smithsonian museum's annual gala, not realising the powers that it possesses and how it can possibly affect you when an accident occurs.

Rating: 18+ ONLY.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (sex pollen, automatic dub-con due to the nature of it being a sex pollen), female recieving oral, thigh riding, fingering, creampie, boss x employee relationship, mutual pining. No spoilers for WW84 but some slight references and mentions of canon type mythology/lore. Oh, and there's actually plot!!

Author's note: Feels like all I ever do is write for Max Lord hehe. This is my first ever sex pollen so I hope it’s okay! I tried to make it as canon-typical as I could and I’m actually really happy with the outcome. Also I haven’t written mutual pining in so long so this has been really fun!

Masterlist

"Did you get the stone?" you whispered, waltzing over to Maxwell who had been schmoozing with a few of the gala guests. He stiffened up when he heard the sweetness of your voice. Your presence always took his breath away. He cleared his throat and placed his half empty champagne glass on one of the silver trays that were getting passed around.

"No, not yet," Maxwell admitted and you sighed. "I've tried swindling the geology department but they won't budge."

"Can't imagine why," you rolled your eyes sarcastically, referencing the time earlier in the year when Max had stolen a very specific citrine stone from the Smithsonian Museum. Of course their trust in him would've been altered. Maxwell quirked an eyebrow at your brief comment and you raised your hands defensively. "Sorry sir." you looked down nervously and he nodded his head, choosing to dismiss what you'd said.

"This is where you come in," Maxwell said, clicking his tongue. Your eyes met his again with curiosity. He took your hand, carefully dragging you to a quiet corner of the party. "You can get the stone."

"Me?" you asked almost rhetorically, your eyes turning comically wide. You were his assistant. He trusted you with menial tasks such as making coffee, handing over paperwork and grabbing his mail— not acquiring some ancient artifact from a different continent.

"You can do it!" he grinned enthusiastically. You were beginning to think he was putting on his charming and persuasive television voice and you furrowed your eyebrows together unimpressed. "Carol Thomas over there, she's the director of the museum. You must make sure she doesn't see a thing. But that tall guy with the dark hair? That’s Ken, and he’s been watching you all night."

You blinked in bewilderment. "He has?" you tilted your head, looking at the man Max had pointed at.

Maxwell's gaze burned into your body as you watched the geology department interact with one another. Of course he has— Maxwell felt like saying. Every man at the damn gala had their eye on you. You looked remarkable, and you were too humble to have even noticed. He brushed off your question.

"Go over there and butter him up a little," Maxwell smirked as you turned back around to face your boss. "But not too much." he quickly added on to the end, feeling a little too defensive over you. "Find out where the stone is. Can you do that?"

"What does it look like?" you mumbled, not really liking the idea of having to flirt with a slimy looking man just to get some random rock thing.

"Ruby." Max snapped back like there was no question about it.

You looked back at Maxwell, a small gasp escaping your lips as you took in his appearance. He looked drunk with desire, and you realised how much he must've wanted that stone. Maxwell's eyes were a beautiful shade of honeyed brown that sparkled under the amber lights; they were beautiful. You felt your lips curve into a small smile of agreement and you felt Maxwell's large, ring clad hand rest on your shoulder, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You made the decision to get the stone, knowing how much it meant to him. You hadn't even realised that the primal, hungry look that crossed his face was actually nothing but pure lust for you.

The second you walked away, Maxwell picked up his champagne glass and finished it off with one quick swing, the bitter taste of alcohol rolling down his throat. He tried to shake off these feelings he had for you, deeming it as unprofessional. He knew from the very start that it was a mistake hiring you. The moment he saw you waiting outside his office to be interviewed, was the moment he had to have you. But of course, his own insecurity meant that he felt as though he couldn't act on these feelings. He may have been a charismatic TV personality but deep down, he had his own, personal reasons that made him feel smaller and weaker than everyone else. For who could ever love a man like him?

"Hey, Ken, is it?" you smiled, extending your arm and grabbing the man's hand. You immediately cringed, feeling the sticky nervous sweat that coated his skin. The dark haired archeologist pushed his glasses up the curve of his nose and shook your hand a little too aggressively.

"Wow," he muttered, looking you up and down before clearing his throat. "Uh, yes. Ken."

You fake smiled, hiding your disgust, tearing your hand away from his and rubbing your palm against the material of your dress in disgust. You wanted to kill Maxwell for making you do this. From the dark, shadowed corner in the ballroom, Maxwell watched you intently, a flame of envy burning in the pit of his stomach.

"I hear you have an exhibition happening?" you took a glass of your favourite alcoholic beverage that was being passed around by a waiter.

"Yes, but it's not ready yet." Ken revealed and you nodded your head understandingly.

"That's a shame," you sighed, a fake sadness dripping from your tongue. "I'm a sucker for gemstones."

"Yeah?" Ken asked as you peaked his curiosity. "What's your favourite kind?"

"Oh, I like the red ones," you joked, and to your surprise, Ken actually laughed.

"We have a whole sub-section on garnet," Ken admitted and your lips parted slightly, omitting a small ‘oh’ as he continued on. "It's beautiful."

"I'm actually more of a ruby type girl myself." you explained, wondering if you were evening making the slightest bit of sense. Even if you weren't, Max knew that you'd be able to wrap Ken around your finger from your good looks alone. And he was right.

"We have one ruby," Ken whispered, leaning into you. Maxwell scowled as he watched Ken push his body into yours. He was seconds away from intervening. Max wanted the stone, but not if some slimy gemologist was making you uncomfortable in the process. Maxwell paused dead in his tracks when he saw you gently push Ken away from you, laughing politely. Max decided he couldn't watch anymore and decided to walk away, finding a group of women to distract himself with.

"Can I see?" you shot Ken your best pleading eyes.

"I'm afraid not. I could pull a few strings with the garnet collection but the ruby is 3000 years old. It's from ancient Greece, and it's the last of its kind."

You pouted, turning your heel, about to walk away, when Ken grabbed your arm and stopped you. "I mean!" he called and you raised your eyebrow, trying to hide your winning smirk. "I suppose I could pull a few strings. It's in the gallery, you must go alone though. And don't tell anyone. And remember to look— not touch."

You grinned, leaning in and gently pecking Ken on the cheek. "Thank you." you said, feeling his cheeks heat up under your lips. You pulled away from him and spun around. You watched out for Carol Thomas, making sure she wasn't looking before you slipped out of the gala and made your way to the gallery.

You were truly in awe as you looked over all the different rocks, each different sizes and different colours but all equally as beautiful as each other. Your eye finally caught the attention of the ruby Max had sought after for so long. You were no expert on geology but this didn't seem like any normal ruby, it sparkled and glittered and stood out from all the others. It was caged in an acrylic box, but it took no effort for you to lift the box off the crystal and swipe it, pushing it into your purse. It barely fit, but you managed to make it work. Double checking that no one was around, you swiftly exited the gallery and made your way back to the main party.

Maxwell wasn't in the corner you had left him, but instead, he was talking to a group of women; flirting no doubt. You rolled your eyes as they tossed their hair and giggled as he leaned into them. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was saying to woo them. Grimacing, you stormed past the group of girls and grabbed Max's arm, tugging and pulling him away from them.

"I got the stone," you informed your boss, briefly glancing back at the girls who were scowling at you for whisking away Max. You frowned, feeling unamused.

"Are you okay?" Max asked, sounding genuienly concerned. This was so dumb— of course you were okay. You had to be okay. It was completely fine that Max was flirting with other women, it's not like he had any interest in you anyway. It's not like you owned him. He was a grown man and he could do whatever he wanted.

"Yeah." you shot back, offering him a gritted smile. Maxwell nodded his head slowly and leaned into you.

"My driver is outside waiting. Head back to my office with the stone, I'll only be right behind you." you didn't know what it was, but suddenly, your boss' voice sounded dark and... seductive. The way his breath fanned over the shell of your ear made you shiver. Without saying another word, you left the party and travelled back to your workplace.

It was no surprise that Black Gold Cooperative was deserted when you let yourself in, sliding your employee card through the terminal and squeezing through the revolving doors. It must've been almost midnight, and you were the only one in the building. You slipped behind the main desk and booted up the computer where you had access to turn on all the lights in the building so it didn't feel so sinister. As you waited for the computer to turn on (and it felt like forever), you took out the gemstone and placed it on the top of the desk. Even in the darkness, there was something so attractive about it. No wonder Maxwell was so desperate to get his hands on it. He had an affinity for geology, although it was almost secretive. You remembered the one time he invited you over to his house, he had a whole shelf that was proudly displayed with rocks and minerals. It was a hobby of his that he didn't share with anyone else. But he trusted you.

He definitely shouldn't have trusted you.

You left your purse on the main desk as the lights finally illuminated the building. Holding the ruby in both of your hands, you carried it up the stairs, through the call centre and into Maxwell Lord's extensive sized office. You admired the way it sparkled and shone under the bright lights, so much so, you weren't watching your step. You let out a yelp as you tripped over a chair which had been carelessly pulled out, falling to your knees as the stone went flying across the office, landing near his desk.

You felt your heart sink into the depths of your chest when you heard it smash. No— there was no way. Gemstones don't just smash like that. Terrified, you crawled over to where the stone had landed and saw that it had quite literally smashed into smithereens; almost like glass. At least, that's how it sounded. The crystalized rock had turned into some kind of sparkling red fairy dust that looked almost magical. It was like a shimmering illusion. You scurried around the floor wondering how the hell this had happened. How the rock had smashed and turned into a pile of glitter. You knew you wouldn't have long until Max came back.

Your legs began to feel weak, but you decided it was just from your anxiety. Shit, the rock meant so much to Max. He gave you one job. One easy fucking job and you couldn't even do that right. You were so fired.

You began to collect the sparkling red dust in your hands, desperately scooping it up but sighing when it fell through your fingers. Your actions became more erratic, knowing your boss would be back any second. No matter what, you couldn't pick up the dust. You looked around his office, wondering if he had a brush or something to shovel it up with, but of course he didn't.

There was something weird… the dust from the gemstone wasn't just glittering, it was quite literally sparkling— gleaming, even. When you touched it, it made your skin tingle. It sent aches of heat flooding down your body. It was enough to make you suspicious but once again, you shrugged it off as nerves. You cared about Max so much, and he was going to be so pissed with you.

When you heard the double doors to his office swing open, your whole body stiffened up, your eyes squeezing shut. You were on your knees still, your back faced away from Maxwell as he merrily came waltzing into his office.

"I called Roman Antiquities from the carphone," he announced, his voice as vibrant as ever. "They're so happy we managed to get the stone," You felt your eyes grow comically wide. Wait— the stone wasn't even for him. It was for somebody else. Things just went from bad to worse. "So," Maxwell slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored pants. "Where is it?"

You slowly rose to your feet, scrunching your nose up in displeasure as you prepared to tell your boss what had happened. How you had been so clumsy. "I- I didn't realise you were sending the stone to Roman Antiquities." you mumbled, slowly turning around and nervously biting your lip.

"I didn't mention it?" Max shrugged casually. "Yeah, apparently it's in high demand."

"Ken said it comes from ancient Greece, and there's only one made," hearing the words leave your lips didn't make the situation any better, you realised. "Do you know what's so special about it?"

"Yeah," Max replied, walking towards his desk. "There's a lot of things special about it. Can I see it?" His dismissive tone made you feel small and uneasy.

"Max…" you drew his name out like it was the longest melody in the world. He looked up at you, waiting for you to continue. "Something happened. I uhm…" you let your eyes wander around his spacious office, refusing to land anywhere but him. He, however, was staring directly at you. "I had it with me. And I carried it carefully to your office but— I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings and I-" you halted suddenly, feeling your whole body heat up, and a fire shooting through your core. You squeezed your legs together and pursed your lips into a fine line, stopping a moan from escaping. What was going on?

"And?" Maxwell urged, his voice growing increasingly more concerned.

"And-" you gulped. It was a weird, strange feeling. Like suddenly, all your scents had been heightened. The smell of Maxwell's rich cologne filled the room, intoxicating you and sending you into a frenzy. "Wow." you mumbled out.

Maxwell said your name sternly, breaking you out of your strange yet blissful haze. You were used to him saying your name, usually in a condescending way. But this time it was different. It was deep, gravelly and outright delicious.

"I broke the stone," you announced with a shaky exhale. You began to feel slick between your thighs and your eyes widened. Were you… aroused? You just about managed to look back at Max and suddenly everything felt different. You saw him in a completely different light.

Sure, you'd had fantasies about your boss before. He was an attractive, single bachelor and he always made you feel special. He always made you feel important. You would sometimes daydream about him at work, watching him from the back of the conference room as he led team meetings. You'd go home after a long day only to think about him whilst you showered, and even before you went to sleep. Suddenly, your feelings made sense.

"You. Broke. The. Stone?" Maxwell gritted out. Your eyes dropped down to fixate on his Adams Apple. Had his voice always been so sensual?

"Max," you whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you grabbed onto the edge of his desk, your fingers curling around the corner so hard your knuckles turned white. "I don't feel so good."

Max slowly walked over to you, looking you up and down. "Where are the remnants of the rock?" Max quizzed. You let out a moan as the feeling of arousal became excruciating. He called your name again and you just about managed to point in the general direction of the pile of glittering red dust. Maxwell's eyes widened. "Oh no no." he said, hurrying over and examining it, but being extra careful not to get too close.

"I know," you cried. "I'm sorry."

"Did you-" Maxwell swallowed the lump in his throat before turning back around to face you. "Did you touch it?"

"Y-yes," you drew out, rubbing your thighs together trying to create some feeling of friction, but doing so discreetly so your boss wouldn't notice. "I tried to clean it up."

"Shit," Maxwell muttered, hurrying over to his desk and spreading out a pile of papers. The papers were filled with information about the very specific ruby stone, and Max read it closely and as quickly as possible.

"What is it?" you asked worriedly. Maxwell's eyes widened and he wrapped an arm around you, carefully navigating you behind his desk and sitting you in his chair. You curled up into the softness of the leather seat, humming in delight your dress rode up slightly and the material stuck to the back of your legs.

"There's something you should know," Maxwell frowned. "The rock… they call it Aphrodite’s Stone."

"Aphrodite?" you breathed out. "Like, the goddess of love?"

Maxwell nodded, flicking through a few more of the pages. "Yes," he confirmed. "But uh- not just love. I mean, it was love, yeah but. She was also the goddess of beauty, uh- procreation, passion and…" Maxwell took a deep breath. "Pleasure."

You made a fist so tight your fingernails pressed into your skin as you shuffled around in the chair. Maxwell was so close to you, you just wanted to pull him on top of you and take him now— exactly how he was. But no, he was going on about some Greek goddess.

"Max please," you begged and his head snapped in your direction. You didn't even realise the way your chest was rising and falling, the way you were heaving and panting. Just the sight of you alone was enough to stir something up inside of Max. Beads of sweat laced your collarbones and hairline as you whimpered and moaned. "Can you just- please- tell me- what’s going on? What's happening to me?"

"The stone contains a kind of sex pollen," Max blurted out and your eyes snapped open.

"Are you kidding me?" you asked and Max shook his head quickly. "Like- a drug?"

"Yeah… and you touched it. Shit okay, let me go grab a bowl of water and we’ll try and clean the remnants from your hands…" Max said quickly, biting his lip and bolting over to leave his office when you shouted for him to come back.

"N-no, it won't work," you whispered, holding your arms out and ushering for him to come back over to you. "Please, please Max…" Your hands travelled to the hem of your dress as you started to peel it up. Max watched with intent, his once honeyed brown eyes turning so dark— almost black. His eyes raked your body as he watched you squirm in his office chair. The same chair he sat in every single day. "Please help me take this dress off. I feel so constricted."

"I-" Maxwell began but stopped when you sighed dramatically, tossing your head back.

"Don't fucking argue," you groaned and Maxwell felt taken aback by your attitude. You had never spoken to him like that before. He'd hate to admit it, but the desperation that dripped from your tongue caused Max's cock to throb in his pants. "Please."

Maxwell took your hand and pulled you up from his chair, briefly noting the wet patch from where you had been sitting. He had to sit back in that chair tomorrow morning, and you had made such a beautiful mess of it. His large hands manouvered around your body as he turned you around, finding the zip to your dress and pulling it all the way down to the small of your back. He took a step back as you shuffled out of it and he politely looked away, not wanting to invade your privacy or make you feel uncomfortable. He took off his tuxedo jacket and offered it to you, in case you felt the need to cover up, but instead you just glared at him.

Maxwell found himself subconsciously licking his lips as his heart rate climbed at the mere sight of you. There you were, standing before him in nothing but lacy black lingerie. He felt his cock grow thick and stand at full attention as he took in the sight of your alluring body. It was perfect in every way, even better than he had ever imagined in his dreams.

"What do you need?" Maxwell asked, his voice low. "What can I do for you?" The pollen in the stone made everything sound so seductive but you could swear that even amongst all the heat, you heard genuine care in his voice.

"I don't… I don't…" you weren't about to tell him that you didn't know, because that would be a lie. You knew exactly what you wanted, and he knew enough about the stone to know exactly what you wanted as well. You needed him, craved his body and ached for him to fill you up and pleasure you. You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to find the pride to actually ask your boss for this. Maxwell took a step closer to you, breaking any distance. He smelt so good.

"Anything you want," he whispered, wanting you to know that he'd be more than willing to help ease you. "Anything you want you can have it."

"Anything?" you asked, pressing your hands to his chest and letting your fingers trace the soft material of his dress shirt.

"Anything." he affirmed.

With that, you grabbed the straps of his suspenders and pulled his body into yours. A low groan emitted from the back of his throat as you pressed your lips against his. You wrapped your arms around his body, your palms laying flat against his back as he kissed you. His tongue licked your lower lip and you moaned wantonly, opening your mouth slightly and granting him access to explore you further.

Max's hands settled on your hips, his fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. You moaned, dragging your own hands to his hair and running his fingers through it.

You loved his hair, you always thought about touching it and playing with it. He always styled it so perfectly but, to your surprise, it wasn't hard with hair-product. Instead, it was soft and glossy and it was like you could feel every wave. He eventually pulled off you, gasping for breath.

"I don't want to take advantage of you when you're like this," Maxwell frowned, as you pushed him into his office chair. "I mean, shit. I want this. I've wanted this for so long…" he rambled on as you slid out of your panties and unclipped your bra. His eyes widened when he saw you stand on his office, completely nude and shameless. He thought you looked breathtaking. You were quick to discard the garments, unable to hide the triumphant smirk that played across your lips as you straddled him. You perched yourself on top of his leg and instantly began to ride his thigh, rubbing your soaking wet pussy over his expensive pants.

"Let me," you moaned, leaning into him and kissing his neck. "Let me use you then."

"Yeah?" Maxwell asked shakily and he felt you nod into his shoulder as you gasped out another moan. "Okay. Take what you need." he said before wrapping his arms around you and dipping his fingers into the small of your back. You could feel the coolness of his gold rings tingle against your warm skin and it only turned you on even more. You couldn't count the amount of times you had imagined the ridged feeling of his rings press up against your walls as he slid his fingers inside of you. Max flexed the muscles in his thigh and you yelped slightly at the friction. "Oh, you like that?" Maxwell asked, and done it again before you could even respond. You tugged on his tie, fumbling as you slid up and down over his leg. You just about managed to loosen it, pull it off, and discarding it on the floor amongst your other pieces of clothing.

"I like these," you giggled, tugging on his suspenders. "But I want them off."

"Cum for me first," Maxwell growled, feeling his hard member press against the confines of his pants. They'd grown extremely tight around his now throbbing erection. You looked down and gasped just at the sight of him. You lowered one hand, while keeping the other hand draped around his body, keeping you steady. With your free hand, you traced the imprint of his cock and smiled when you watched his eyes flutter shut from only your gentlest of touches.

"You weren't even affected by the stone," you giggled, humming in delight as you reached for his zipper. You didn't stop sliding your slick pussy over his thigh, your movements building up your oncoming high. "And look at you." you wiggled your fingers into his pants and your eyes widened as you felt his cock. "Fuck… Max Lord going commando?" your laugh came to an abrupt end when Max's grip around you tightened. He took your hand away from his manhood and set it on his bicep as he held you by your hips and muttered dirty words into your ear.

"Cum for me." He gritted out again, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and gently nibbling at your skin. He pulls his hands down to your breasts and squeezes at them, his thumbs grazing over your nipples.

"So close," you warned him as your walls began to contract against nothing. You ached for his cock, now more than ever. Still massaging your breasts, he reattached his lips to your neck and trailed sloppy kisses all the way down your collarbone. "Shit Max, fuck I cant," you gasped.

"Can't what? What is it baby?" Max asked, pulling away slightly and cupping your cheek with his hand.

"I can't cum without… without…" tears pricked your eyes as the gushing sense of sexual desire coarsed through your body.

"What do you need?" Max whispered.

"You. Inside me," you managed to stammer out with absolutely no shame. Max looked absolutely wrecked, his dark blonde hair that was once perfectly styled had completely fallen out of place and his chocolate brown eyes were glazed with lust. But he was gorgeous and you couldn't help but smile knowing what exactly you had done to the esteemed Maxwell Lord. You shuffled back slightly, and Max glanced down at the wet patch you had left on his pants. He couldn't contain his grin.

"I don't have a condom," Max admitted. The revelation surprised you as you pegged Max for the kinda guy who endured a lot of sex in his office. It seemed like the perfect place, but come to think of it, he never really had girls around. Only you. You didn't care that he didn't have a condom. In fact, you kinda liked it. You wanted to feel every ridge and vein of his thick cock as it filled your pussy.

"Good," you smiled, standing up with a wobble. Max stood up after you and cleared his desk before patting the expensive oak wood, ushering you to lay down.

But first, you pulled down his suspenders, unclipping them from his pants and throwing them to one side. You worked at his shirt buttons one by one until eventually, you pulled it off and dropped it to the ground. You wasted no time, unzipping his pants and pulling them down to his ankles. You licked your lips in delight as his cock sprung free and he stepped out of the pants that had pooled around his feet.

Max gently pushed you backwards into his desk and you hopped up, sitting down and laying back. "You're so beautiful," Max sighed as he drank in your appearance, wanting to savour this moment and remember it forever. "Open your legs." he commanded as he stroked his cock. He gathered his precum which had been leaking from the tip for God knows how long, letting it slick between his fingers as he jerked himself off at the mere sight of you spread out on his office desk. You obeyed his instruction, closing your eyes as you prepared to feel his cock push inside of you.

But instead, you felt his hot, wet tongue lick a stripe up your clit. Your whole body stiffened up as you released a groan you didn't even know you were holding back. "Fuck- what the fuck," you curled your fingers into a fist as he continued to cat lick you. You just about managed to open your eyes and see the vision of his head in between your legs as he devoured your dripping pussy. "You're really dragging this out, huh?"

He was good. He was so good. He knew his way around your body perfectly and you swore, in that moment, that perhaps you were made for each other. Maybe it was just the effects of the stone but you had never had such a satisfying sexual encounter.

"When I saw the mess you made on my leg, and how wet you were, I knew I had to taste you," Max admitted, his voice was gruff and sent vibrations through your core. He continued lapping you up, humming and moaning in delight on the occasion he'd suck at the bud of your clit and draw out a moan from your lips. "And fuck, you taste so good."

"But I want your cock inside of meeee," you whined.

Max didn't attach his mouth from you once, but he did bring up his hand and push a finger in between your folds and began to massage the entrance to your hole.

"Gotta prep you first," Max told you, before pushing his index finger deep inside you. He moaned at the feeling of your walls around him and felt his cock twitch against his stomach. Obscene wet noises echoed through his office, as well as your moans and pleas for more. "So greedy," Maxwell chuckled. "Always wanting more," he pushed in his middle finger, stretching you open. He looked up at you, his eyes hungry as he pumped his fingers into your pussy. It wasn't long until your legs began to quiver and shake profusely. You screamed when Maxwell pulled out his fingers and shoved them in your mouth. "Taste," he told you as you sucked on his fingers. "Good girl. See? You taste so fucking good. I could get used to this."

When you had cleaned your juices from his fingers, you felt him line himself up against your entrance. You reached out, holding onto his strong biceps for support as he thrusted inside of you. He grunted, squeezing his eyes tight shut as your walls tightened around you. He was big— bigger than you'd ever taken before. If you weren't so aroused from the stone, you wouldn't know if you'd be able to take him. He filled you perfectly. He pushed himself balls deep into you and then came to a halt.

"M-move," you whimpered, pressing your nails into his skin.

"Beg." he shot back, smoothing the hair out of your face and running his thumb over your puckered and sore lower lip.

"Please Max, please. Fuck me." you felt tears prick your eyes and Maxwell took the hint, finally thrusting in and out of you. Your cunt was so tight around Maxwell he couldn't believe how perfect of a fit you were. He dragged his thumb to your clit and started rubbing intricate circles as he increased his speed. His movements became sloppy and rapid as his fingers pushed you over the edge. "Cum inside of me," you gasped out the second you felt his cock twitch inside of you, indicating that he was close.

"Are you sure?" Max asked and you nodded your head.

"Never been so sure about anything in my life." you screamed, your back arching as you finally came undone. You absolutely drench him, and if it was any other situation, you might've felt a little embarrassed. But Max was in ecstasy when your cunt tightened around his cock like a vice and milked him of all that he had. He spilt his seed inside of you, the warmth coating your walls and shooting jolts of pleasure down your body.

You found yourself completely engulfed in a post coital haze, and Max kept himself inside of you until he softened and could slip out of you without causing you any discomfort. "You might be sore tomorrow," he mumbled, pressing a kiss into your neck. You hummed, whispering something incoherent but your smile was very telling. You had never been so happy. "But the effects of Aphrodite's Stone should wear off now."

"You took care of me," you whispered, your eyes slowly opening. You sat up and wrapped your arms around Max, pulling him into you. You felt completely and utterly spent, and Maxwell couldn't disagree either. He walked you over to his chair and sat you in his lap.

"Of course I took care of you," his voice was gentle and sweet like honey. "This was all my fault. And I should've warned you about the stupid fucking rock in the first place."

"Stupid?" you raised an eyebrow. "That was the most fun I've ever had," you laughed and Maxwell couldn't contain how happy your revelation made him. "But… are we going to be in trouble?"

"You don't have to worry about a thing," Maxwell hushed you, smoothing out your hair and pressing a kiss into your hair. Something in his voice made you trust him and believe in him. You just knew he wouldn't let you get into trouble. "I'm glad this happened."

"Me too." you whispered before closing your eyes and burying your head into his chest. Curled up into his lap, your naked bodies tangled together, you both fell asleep in his office chair. Maxwell Lord created a frightening and intimidating aura, but, the truth is, you had never felt more safe and more comfortable in your whole entire life. You knew that this happy accident was going to be the start of something great.

Taglists (let me know if you wish to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love

This fic: @lostcherryinwonderland @thewayofthemandalorian

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. A window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

EEEEEEK here's part two!!! Part two sees more of Amelia's beautiful brain, the love she has for her team, and her brother, & her friendship with Kyle Walker. Hope you guys love it as much as i do - please let me know what you think - i'd love to hear from you all!

Love always,

Steph xx

UPDATE as of 31/07: I've made some additional editing changes due to some feedback about the confusion between ben white (her brother) and ben chilwell (not her brother LOL). Nothing has been added to the story, just the addition of either surname has been added where i think it could be more straightforward - for future readers!

Part 2. | seconda parte

warnings; none - just a whole lot of feels.

word count; 1469

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wednesday 28/07 5pm AEST. Updates are twice weekly (Sunday & Wednesday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex

link to fic masterlist here

11 July 2021 | The Final Match.

The players for both national teams lined up side by side down the tunnel. Chiellini & Kane, both confident in their teams ability, captaining with great authority and mentorship for the ten men stood behind them. Amelia stood at the back of the tunnel, watching the scene ahead of her. Her dad, walking up the centre aisle between the two teams, shaking the hands of his players, confident in his preparation. A gentle hand to her brother's shoulder, saying everything it needs to say. It was the same hand that rubbed the back of her neck as he walked past, communicating the same thing. Go your hardest, you’re ready for this.

It was her turn, she started at the back of the line, and in true Italian style, a kiss was placed to both cheeks of every player up the line. When she reached Jorginho, a player she came to appreciate for his technical mindset and intellectual approach to the game, she kissed his cheek and turned to the player opposite him - her brother, who was trying his hardest to face forward and pay his little sister no mind. She knew what he was doing, but she wasn’t as heartless as the rest of the England squad probably perceived her to be. Reaching out, she rubbed her hand along the back of his neck, just as her father did to her, leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, before continuing down the line of her players to the front. Shaking hands with Gareth Southgate, who no doubt had come to realise who the girl was in relation to his team, and a kiss to both cheeks of Mr Mancini, she walked out and took her place on the bench, ready for the game of her life.

120 minutes of football later.

Life is both beautiful and cruel. Whilst she hadn’t anticipated the early goal from Shaw, Amelia had predicted every play by the english and made sure her team was there waiting for them to turn and run. They knew to never let Harry Kane have the space to move the ball, to make sure Mason Mount was marked at all times and to pay attention to the silky smooth skills of Raheem Sterling. They knew that every player on the english side had the talent and skill to shoot and score, no matter if they're a striker or full back. In the end, the endless taunts from the british crowd and constant reminder of “it’s coming home” only fuelled the Italians further and pushed them harder, to their limits. Eventually both sides met with equal force and completed extra time at a draw, leading to penalties. All of Amelia’s preparation with Gianluigi Donnarumma would present itself now. She went over the preferred sides of the penalty takers she presumed would be stepping up for their country, and reminded him of all he has achieved & what there is still left to be done. After all, they are the masters of their own fate.

Donnarumma’s block of Bukayo Saka’s penalty rattled her bones and sent a chill down her spine. They had done it. The boys had finally brought football back to Rome for the first time since 1968, and while she can’t take all of the credit, she knows she single handedly played a part in this victory. As soon as happiness filled her body, guilt and sadness flooded her heart. She had been part of the problem that caused her brother so much pain. Her dad knew how to handle rejection, this wasn't his first rodeo, and could see with an open mind just how they had managed to achieve greatness. But her brother had truly believed they had it, that football was coming home to England.

After being surrounded by her boys, cheering and hugging her, screaming in relief that they had done it, Amelia took a step back and took a deep breath in. Looking over to the players in white consoling each other with looks of understanding and pats on the back, hugging those with the unfortunate fate of missing their penalties, she found her brother.

_____________________________________________________________

Squatting down with his elbows resting on his knees and hands covering part of his face, his eyes showing disbelief that the moment had escaped them. Jordan Henderson, the figurative big brother to my big brother, leaning down whispering what one can only assume is words of encouragement and strength to him. A voice to my right startles me, not because I wasn't used to the noise, but because it was a voice I haven't heard directed at me with anything other than venom in a very long time.

“He wants you to be there for him, don’t ever think for a second that he doesn’t want you around.” Kyle Walker speaks into the open, whilst looking around at the fans still in the stadium. The fans behind us right now would be watching with speculation, wondering why the english player is talking to an italian so soon after defeat.

“I don’t think he doesn’t want me around, i just don’t think he wants me around right now” I spoke back, trying to reason with myself and Kyle as to why i haven't gone up and offered my condolences to my brother.

“I think the only thing that can pull him out of this is you. He was beating himself up last night after your argument, and while he turned it into motivation for today, it's still weighing on his conscience. He’s happy for you, we aren't that mean so as to deny him the pleasure of being proud of his little sister...even if she is working for the enemy”

“You’ve always been one to be the voice of reason, whilst still being the clown I grew up to know and love”

“Does this mean we’re friends again? I’m sorry about last night” Kyle admitted.

“Last night wasn’t what ended our friendship...we stopped being friends the day you left Spurs.” I joked back to Kyle. I turned to look at his over-expressed shocked face and walked backwards a few steps while giggling, before turning and sauntering over to my brother who was now surrounded by some more teammates. Upon seeing me and noticing my solemn expression, finding comfort in the fact that I wasn't there to rub my win in their faces, the boys left my brother to himself.

I stood there, staring into the eyes of my brother, who after a few minutes reached out and pulled me into him as though I was a life raft and he was stranded in the ocean. We stood there, hugging, saying everything we needed to say through the way we were gripping to the backs of each other's team colours.

“I am so proud of you, you put up one hell of a fight Ben. Certainly made my job harder” I spoke into his shirt. He was the taller of the two, but I wasn't that short. Almost immediately after, I felt him push more weight onto me and sink a bit lower so he was in my neck, shedding a few tears he didn't want seen by those around us. Not even 5 seconds later, he stood up straight, wiping his eyes and offering me a smile.

“God, I wish you weren’t better at your job than I am at mine” he joked back to me. I smiled up at him, shaking my head.

“I would say you’re wrong but the medal that's about to be around my neck would say otherwise” i joke back with him. I was not about to dull my sparkle for someone else's sun to shine, whether he is my brother or not.

“We have to talk about everything that went down last night but i’ll let you enjoy your night with your team” Ben says as we turn and begin to walk toward the stage being set up for the ceremony.

“Thanks Ben, family dinner on Sunday? Tell your friends to come, you and i both know mum will have enough food to feed everyone without even trying”

“Of course, I'll put it in the lads chat & see who’s still around. Kyle will see it in our family chat - who even put him in there anyway!?”

“Honestly...I think it was mum. You know she loves her son, Kyle.”

As I walk back to my team, and into the arms of Fede and Jorginho who wrap me up in an Italian flag and start jumping around, I can't help but smile and laugh at my amazing life. Who knows what the future has to hold, but for tonight, the azzurri are the champions of europe and the trophy is coming home, to Rome.

Part 3. | parte terza

[2manyfandoms2count]

That's what Friends are for

Taking a little break from I love you (not) today, with a one shot that might one day turn into a full fic. Who knows?

Anyway, have some Marichat setting up Ladrien, and trying not to give their identities away in the process. Hope you enjoy!

@marichatmay

Read on AO3

---

Marinette pouted as she leaned on her balcony railing.

Why did all her attempts at confessing her love to Adrien have to end up disastrously? When it wasn’t her own clumsiness or cold feet getting in the way, there was always something, or some one that seemed to volunteer to play the hindrance part. She sighed, thinking about the Akuma that just had to make an appearance at the exact moment Adrien was telling her about the girl he liked. Maybe it had been for the best; she didn’t know how she would have reacted had he told her he liked Lila, for instance (but that was impossible - he was smart enough to see she was nothing more than a flaky façade), but she would’ve liked to know where they stood nonetheless.

Gazing at the panoramic view of the city, she couldn’t help but think how pleasant it would be to share this moment with a loved one. The sky was dark but clear, allowing some stars to shine through. The illuminated Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance, providing festive lighting in the midst of the warm street lights.

“Purr-etty night, isn’t it?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

The young girl turned around, finding herself face to face with Chat Noir, leaning on his baton. Her heart ached at his brave face, his small smile not bright enough to distract her from his sad eyes. She wasn’t surprised by his presence; she’d actually been expecting it. It had become a habit for her partner to come around when Ladybug rejected him a little harshly. She winced at the not-so-distant memory of herself snapping at the boy when he’d made an innocent flirty joke while they were fighting the Akuma. She really hadn’t meant to hurt him. She was just still frustrated about her whole situation with Adrien.

“It really is.” She smiled tightly. “How are you, Kitty?”

“Eh…” He trailed, taking a couple of steps to slump beside her on the railing.

“I’m sorry.” She wished he could know just how much she meant it.

“It happens.” He shrugged. “I just wish…” He sighed, shaking his head as he looked for words. “I don’t know, that she’d talk to me about him? Just to know if I have a chance or not.”

Marinette pursed her lips, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know how appropriate it would be to laugh at how similar their situations were. He would probably feel worse than he already did, and the only way to prevent that would be to explain exactly what she was thinking, which she couldn’t do without revealing her identity. She took a deep breath and decided to give him a little something to at least help him. Her feelings were a secret she supposed she could share with him; they were probably long overdue.

“Adrien Agreste.” She whispered. She felt him tense next to her.

“What?” He squeaked. She might have poked fun at him for it in other circumstances. On his side, Chat’s heart raced in his chest. He hoped she couldn’t tell, although the roaring in his ears gave him little hope. Had Marinette figured out who he was?...

“Ladybug told me she likes Adrien Agreste.” Marinette clarified. She hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions. What if he figured out they went to the same school? Then he’d be able to figure out…

“The model?” She nodded silently, trying to avoid his gaze. “That’s fantastic!” Chat Noir’s face erupted in a giant smile. His heart rate picked up, which he hadn’t thought was possible given the speed at which it had already been beating. After all this time, it turned out the girl of his dreams was actually chasing him too, in a convoluted game of cat and mouse where they were somehow both the chaser and the chased.

“Really?” Marinette tilted her head, confused by how well her friend took the news. He looked almost… relieved, for some reason? Had she known this was how he’d react, perhaps she would have told him a lot sooner. “I didn’t think you’d be so happy about the news.”

Chat froze, his expression akin to that of a deer caught in headlights for a split second. He resumed his usual breezy demeanor so fast, though, that Marinette thought she’d dreamt it.

“Well, obviously I’m not ecstatic about it, but… Well, Adrien and I clearly don’t play in the same court when it comes to ladies.” He said, trying his best to look natural, but slightly gutted. There was potentially a date with Ladybug in the bargain if he played his cards correctly, and slipping up on his identity was not that.

“What do you mean?” Marinette frowned.

“Well, you know… He’s a model . I can’t compete with that, I’m just a… an ordinary boy.” He shrugged, internally congratulating himself for his quick thinking.

“You’re Chat Noir though. And you know Adrien Agreste from work.” She pointed out, almost offended by his words. “You can’t be that ordinary.” She smiled warmly.

“I guess...” He trailed, touched by her clear affection for him. Marinette really was amazing. “But Adrien once told me he liked Ladybug, and if she likes him as well… I don’t stand a chance.” He added, dramatically shaking his head as he placed a hand on his heart.

Marinette’s elbow lost its balance on the railing, and she caught herself before her head slammed into it.

“The girl Adrien likes is Ladybug?!” He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. She seemed bewildered, but also… happy? She regained her composure before he could totally decipher her expression.

“That’s what I understood, anyway.” He answered cautiously.

Marinette paused, her eyes squinting as she thought. She was jumping down internally at the news, but she really couldn’t do anything while Chat Noir was there. Although she had lead him to believe that she and Ladybug were close -which wasn’t a complete lie- looking too overjoyed would probably seem a little strange.

“Are you sure?” She asked again, looking at him correctly for the first time since the beginning of their conversation.

“A hundred percent paw-sitive.” He nodded.

“Well, then.” She shook her head, trying to hide the smile she could feel growing on her face. “I guess we don’t have a choice.”

“What?” Chat furrowed his brow in confusion at his friend’s slightly serious look.

“We have to organise a date for them.” Marinette raised her hands in a Gallic shrug, her eyebrows raised in a “I don’t make up the rules” kind of way.

“You really think so?” His eyes lit up. He mentally slapped himself at his hopeful tone of voice. So much for not giving anything away.

“That’s what friends are for.” She crossed her arms, leaning back comfortably on the balcony railing. She hoped her slightly authoritarian demeanor effectively hid how giddy she was feeling. Adrien Agreste liked her. And they were going to go on a date .

“Where do we start?” Chat walked over to her deckchair and sat down. It would prevent him from breaking into dance in front of Marinette, which probably wouldn’t be a very smart move. After all, he was ‘helping out a friend’, not going on the date himself.

His friend looked in the distance, mindlessly toying with her hair. Now that she thought about it, she’d never really imagined going on a date with Adrien. Their future life, complete with house, children and hamster? That was all sorted. How to get there? Not so much. What could Adrien enjoy as an outing? He’d seen and done a lot given all of his ties with the fashion and celebrity industry, what could a simple girl like Ladybug offer him?

Chat Noir decided to take the lead of the conversation, Marinette looking slightly lost. “Do you think she’d enjoy bowling?” He ventured.

The girl’s gaze snapped back into focus. “Bowling?” She frowned. She’d played once or twice, more if you counted Wii practice. “I seem to recall Ladybug enjoys playing, does Adrien like it?”

Chat got a flashback to his younger years, when he and his parents used to go out to a local bowling alley almost every week. His mother had a gift when it came to the sport. She rarely scored anything less than a spare. Had it not been for those memories, he probably would’ve had his very own alley in his room, just like he had a climbing wall and private skatepark. His father couldn’t bear to be reminded of those times, though.

“He told me he likes it very much.” Chat nodded.

“I guess it’s sorted, then.”

They both stayed silent, still processing the fact that they’d somehow scored the date they’d been waiting for since the first time they’d realised how they felt. Who knew it would be that easy?

“Do you think next Saturday would be too soon?” Chat asked. His Dad would be in Japan with Nathalie. He could take care of the Gorilla to ensure his evening with Ladybug went well.

Marinette had to resist the urge to say yes there and then. “I’ll ask her, I’m supposed to see her tomorrow.” She replied instead.

“You’re a good friend, Marinette.”

The girl twitched at the epithet, the intonation way too familiar. She looked at Chat Noir suspiciously, looking for anything that could give away his identity. The way he somehow managed to fall out of her deckchair without any apparent cause made her feel stupid for the thought of him and Adrien being the same person even crossing her mind. They were both great guys, but Adrien clearly was far more graceful than her friendly neighbourhood cat.

“You too, Kitty.” She chuckled.

She had to refrain herself from suggesting that they tagged along to their "friends"' date. It would be too much hassle to plan, even with the Fox Miraculous. She'd have to find him a good gift though; he really was the wingman if the century.

She'd deal with it after her date.

[blrush]

If Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding was a serious drama with hour long episodes, Part 3: The Honeymoon Is Over.

Ki Wan drew back his hand. Why had he reached out to Ho Seon like that? What was he hoping to achieve? It must be the exhaustion getting the better of him – yes that was it, he was just tired. In the warm room, under the candle light, Ho Seon had looked so handsome, like a painting of a prince and Ki Wan had felt the urge to touch the painting, and check if it was real. But Ho Seon was a man of flesh and bone, who reacted, and it scared Ki Wan out of his reverie and back to reality – a reality in which he could not afford to make such careless mistakes, or let down his guard.

He stepped back and mumbled under his breath;

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay”, Ho Seon replied, as he brought himself to his feet. They stood apart, an awkward silence between them.

“Ah!” Ho Seon realised, “You spoke!” Ki Wan brought his hand to his mouth, he hadn’t even registered that he’d opened it!

“I’m glad.” Ho Seon smiled, “I thought you never would. I was almost wondering if you could!” He joked, relaxing them both.

Was this the right moment? Should he tell Ho Seon the truth now? The opportunity was presenting itself, he could easily use this conversation as a starting point…

“Come,” Ho Seon spoke before Ki Wan could make up his mind. “Let’s go to bed, you must be tired.”

Ki Wan looked at the bed, then back to Ho Seon.

“Not “to bed”, in that way, I mean to sleep.” Ho Seon assured him.

They were both already down to their under garments, and Ki Wan was tired enough to fall asleep as he was, even though the layers of bandage-like fabric were tight and constricting on his chest and he would rather sleep naked or in a light open robe, he thought that exposing himself was probably not the best way for Ho Seon to find out the truth.

He had never slept in the same bed as another person, and he thought it might prove uncomfortable, but he found the sound of Ho Seon’s deep breathing soothing, and drifted off peacefully, carefully curled up on his own side of the bed.

In the morning, he woke feeling properly well rested for the first time in years. He had never minded his room at home, and was always happy in his own company. But his room had been bigger, and colder, the only sound was the wind outside, whistling through the archways and halls of their empty home. He had no idea the comfort that a warm body beside you could afford. During the night, he awoke briefly, but simply watched the shape of Ho Seon’s shoulders slowly moving up and down and he was quickly lulled back to sleep.

Ho Seon was such a welcome presence, he emanated warmth and comfort. And whilst Ki Wan was still fearful of him discovering the truth, he felt a level of safety and trust already with Ho Seon. He began to truly believe, rather than simply hope, that Ho Seon would be able to accept the truth and Ki Wan’s reasons for his deception. He no longer feared any kind of violent outburst from his new husband, now - he just feared the look of disappointment that would inevitably colour Ho Seon’s normally happy face.

Apparently, even sober, Ho Seon was not easy to rise. He took an age to wake up, twisting and turning under the covers, grumbling and murmuring. Ki Wan found it exceedingly amusing, and lay happily under the warm covers for longer than he should – watching Ho Seon. Ho Seon eventually turned to face him, at first seemingly a little taken aback by another person in his bed, but then registered it was his wife and smiled – toothlessly, his eyes closing.

“Goooggmrrning” He mumbled. Then he opened his eyes, sparkling with mischief, and added in an overly formal tone “My wife.”

“Mmm morning” Ki Wan responded, muffling his voice beneath the covers.

Ho Seon smiled and gave a prompting nod. Ki Wan rolled his eyes.

“Husband” he added quietly. This seemed to please Ho Seon to no end and he smiled ear to ear, giving an enormous yawn and stretch before beginning to get up.

~ ~ ~

The next few weeks of married life passed like a blissful dream. Ho Seon spent most of his days studying, or tending to administrative work, whilst Ki Wan kept his mother-in-law company, doing housework or tending to the garden. Some days, Ho Seon would come out to the courtyard and set up his desk outside on the balcony. Ki Wan suspected he didn’t like to feel excluded from any possible fun they may be having.

Ki Wan found himself settling into a routine of family life, and he and Ho Seon would bid each other goodnight and good morning as spouses, but it felt more like they were children playing house. They both avoided touching one another, and Ki Wan still avoided speaking as much as possible without seeming rude. Though he began to relax, particularly around his mother in-law, who had insisted he call her ‘mother’, which at first Ki Wan found difficult as it made him sad to think of his own loss, but he eventually complied and it only added to the happy-family delusion. She didn’t seem to notice or mind his voice. In fact, she complimented him on it once, and requested that Ki Wan should read to her sometimes – a request that Ki Wan happily complied with, as he missed reading and studying, things which he used to enjoy so much in his old student life before his mother passed away.

One evening Ho Seon passed comment as they were getting ready for bed. Ho Seon was sitting on the bed, cross legged, expectantly, like a child would.

“How come you read to my mother, but you never read to me?” He pouted.

“You can read.” Ki Wan responded.

“Pleeasssse,” Ho Seon whined, “Won’t you read me a bedtime story? Pleeeaase? Wife?”

Ki Wan stifled his laughter, and threw a pillow at Ho Seon in lieu of a proper response.

Their comfortable pantomime as a married couple became second-nature, and Ki Wan almost forgot about the graveness of his circumstances. He knew deep-down this illusion couldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t bring himself to be the one to shatter it.  Their bubble was burst before long, not by either of them, but in the form of an unexpected visitor.

~ ~ ~

Ki Wan often bathed at the house, where they had a big warm tub which the maid would fill for him, and that Ho Seon would use after him. But his fear that the maid may walk back in at any moment, or that Ho Seon himself might barge in unknowingly meant that bath-time became more stressful than relaxing, and he could never really clean his body properly as the tub was too small and he spent most of the time trying to hide his naked body under the water. Walking one day near the river, his mother in-law pointed out a gorge where she said there was a natural spring that people could bathe in.

“I used to take Ho Seon down here when he was little.” She reminisced, “He used to love splashing around – he was so chubby as a baby! Aiiguuu, you will have such cute babies!”

The topic of children did seem to come up an awful lot with his mother-in-law, though Ki Wan normally brushed it off by acting coy and shy about the topic of baby-making. She never pushed him about it or asked intrusive questions about the physical side of their marriage, but she did always manage to slide babies into the conversation.

One morning, Ho Seon announced that he had to go into town on some business, and would take a few hours – whilst his mother-in-law felt poorly and said she would be staying in bed to rest. After helping her into bed, and reading to her until she fell sleep, Ki Wan felt a sudden rush of freedom and relief – he was alone! He immediately rushed back to the bridal house, collected clean undergarments, and headed out for the spring. He left a note beside his mother-in-law’s bedside, lest she wake and panic – or worse, come to find him.

Amongst the rocks and foliage, the spring looked tranquil and inviting. He carefully made his way amongst the trees, down the steep incline. He removed his clothing, and waded in. The water was cold but refreshing, and he dunked his head right under. Relief and calm enveloped him under the surface. He floated around happily, washing himself and swimming, revelling in the peace and quiet.

He knew he should get out soon, as his fingertips were beginning to wrinkle, and his mother-in-law was sure to wake eventually, but he was so relaxed he didn’t want to leave.

Giving his hair a final rinse, he dragged his fingers through a knot at the end and turned to where he had left his clothes on the rocks. He yelped with fright, a man was standing above the rocks looking down at him. He lowered himself further under the water, covering his chest completely.

He could only make out a silhouette, a tall frame, an adorned hat – a government official.

He dared not move, he could barely breathe. He had let his guard down for the first time in over a month, and this is what had come of it! The man began to move, and at first Ki Wan thought he was going to come further down the rocks to the pool, but instead – thankfully – the man turned and made his way back up to toward the road. There was no way of knowing how long he had been standing there. Had he been watching? How much could he see from up there? Had he simply wanted to use the spring, seen a young man bathing, and left? Or had he seen a woman in a state of immodesty? Either way, Ki Wan told himself that the man was a stranger so what should it matter to him?

But what should he do? Grab his clothes and head the opposite direction? But he didn’t know his way around the woods outside the property that well, he really only knew the way back to the Ryu house along the road. No, he would have to stay in the pool longer and hope the man left. But there was no way of knowing how long that would be. He sat in indecision until he could bare the cold no longer. Shivering he clambered out of the spring and put on his dress. Struggling and rushing, his clothes were now damp and he felt uncomfortable. But the afternoon sun had moved beyond trees and he was beginning to freeze in the woods. He would have to head home and hope the man had left the road. He tied back his wet hair and set off.

Upon arriving home, Ki Wan went directly to visit his mother-in-law, who was sitting up in bed, sipping some tea.

“Ahhh, my daughter, come sit beside me.”

“Eomeoni, how are you feeling?”

“Fine, I’m fine. I hate wasting away the day in bed. It makes me feel like an old lady!”

Ki Wan cracked a smile. “Oh? But you don’t look a day over twenty-five!”

“YA!” She half shouted, half laughed. “Rude girl! I was a real beauty in my day you know!”

Just then the maid knocked on the door and entered.

“Ma’am, there is an officer here to see the young master. He has been waiting a little while near the stables. I didn’t want to disturb you, and I wasn’t sure where the young madam was. I told him that Ho Seon was away in town, but he said he could wait. Shall I put him in the guest room, or offer him some tea?”

“Ughhh” she harrumphed, “I’m not in the mood to see some stuffy old court official today. He can just wait for Ho Seon, he should be back soon.”

“With all due respect Ma’am, he does seem very high-ranking. And he is not so stuffy or old… he’s actually quite handsome.” She giggled and looked toward Ki Wan for some sisterly affirmation.

“Very well. Hwa Jin, since you are now the lady of the house, why don’t you go and tend to him. Just serve him some tea and make a bit of small talk until Ho Seon gets back. Oh, and then let me know how handsome he is” she winked.

Ki Wan tried to force a smile as he rose, but his heart was sinking. What if it was the man from the spring? It had to be, what other official would be out on that road coincidentally? He began following the maid toward the stables to collect the gentleman.

Perhaps he had not seen Ki Wan’s face? Who was to say he would make the connection that the person he had seen in the pool was Ki Wan? He had to calm himself down!

As they approached the stables, where the official was tending to his horse, Ki Wan was sure it was the same man. The same broad stature, the same high-ranking hat. He turned when he noticed them, he was – as the maid had claimed – young and very handsome. The maid introduced Ki Wan formally.

“Sir, may I introduce the Lady Ryu Hwa Jin, wife of Ryu Ho Seon. She will see to you whilst you await Master Ryu’s return.”

“Pleasure to meet you. My name is Kim Tae Hyung, Head of the Department of Justice.”

The maid gave a bow, and shuffled away, leaving Ki Wan quaking with fear.

Ki Wan gave a polite bow, then turned for Tae Hyung to follow him through the courtyard. Ki Wan kept his head low and turned away from the man, silently praying for Ho Seon’s speedy return.

Ki wan showed Tae Hyung to the guest room, a simple room with a large reception area and a small alcove for bedding to the side. They rarely used it, but it was the most appropriate space for the man to be received, and for him to meet with Ho Seon if it were for business. Tae Hyung sat down at the table, and Ki Wan waited silently at the door for the maid to bring tea. Ki Wan was on edge, waiting for the man to speak. But he sat quietly, and Ki Wan continued to stare at his own feet.

Finally, the maid arrived with a tray of tea, which she placed on the table before leaving again. Ki Wan took a deep breath to steady himself, then went about serving the tea. He focused on his hands, looking down at the table, he poured two cups and handed one politely to the gentleman. As he did so, their hand touched, and Ki Wan wondered if it had been intentional on Tae Hyung’s part – as if he was trying to incite some sort of a reaction from Ki Wan – the kind of small gesture that might fluster a particularly prudish, gentle, or chaste young lady. Ki Wan made no reaction, and sipped his own tea. Then he sat back on his heels, placed his hands in his lap and waited. All the while, repeating the same mantra in his mind; ‘Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back. Ho Seon come back…’

“Unseasonably cold today wouldn’t you agree Lady Ryu?”

Ki Wan nodded.

“A bit cold for a swim, wouldn’t you agree?”

He knew.

Ki Wan was petrified, unmoving. What had he seen? There was something sinister behind his light tone. Ki Wan was sure he knew.

Tae Hyung placed his cup down on the table and leant forward. He brought his hand up to Ki Wan’s face, grabbed his chin and forced Ki Wan to look up at him.

Ki Wan could feel himself losing control of his fear, his neck and ears felt flushed, he was gritting his teeth so hard it was nearly audible, and he could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes. This was it, he was finished. This was not his kind husband finding out the truth, this was a powerful military man who probably had deeply strict Confucius values.

He examined Ki Wan’s face carefully, and looked almost pleased with himself.

“Hmmm… utterly convincing. But how odd. What’s a pretty young boy like you doing parading around as a noble woman?” He sounded amused, like this was all a fun game. Ki Wan was gripping his skirt tightly, and felt bile rising up in his throat.

Just then, Ki Wan heard the sound of approaching footsteps in the courtyard, and Tae Hyung calmly pulled his hand away – like he wasn’t at all bothered by the thought of being caught touching another man’s wife. Ki wan had never met someone so self-assured in their own sense of power.

Ki Wan heard Ho Seon enter the room from behind him.

“Ah! Kim Tae Hyung! I wasn’t expecting you. Sorry I had business in town. How have you been?” He sat himself down beside Ki Wan, and began to pour himself some tea.

“I’m well, thank you. I’ve been travelling the country on some royal errands. I heard you were getting married, I was so sorry I couldn’t attend.”

“Ahh, not to worry!” Ho Seon responded brightly, “It was a small wedding, just family really.”

Ho Seon’s exuberance and cheerful voice, which Ki Wan usually found so comforting, was like the sound of grinding metal in its contrast to Ki Wan’s mood and the tension of the room. Ki Wan was still fraught with anxiety and fear and felt like he was suffocating.

“I never pegged you as the marrying type” Tae Hyung began, “What changed?”

“My mother’s getting older, I guess she wanted a daughter to keep her company, and she was determined to see me settle down and have a family.”

“Oh?” Tae Hyung looked amused over his cup of tea, “Any luck so far?”

“Tae Hyung!” Ho Seon chastised half-heartedly. It was clear to Ki Wan that they were old friends, perhaps from school, Ho Seon’s easy manner and informal speech made that obvious. But Tae Hyung was fishing for information, trying to figure out if Ho Seon knew his wife’s secret – but his subtle jibes at Ki Wan were going completely unnoticed by Ho Seon.

“Tell me, where did you find such a beauty? I’ve never met another woman like her.” He looked directly at Ki Wan, with a smirk that, to Ho Seon, must have seemed like flirting – but to Ki Wan felt more like a threat.

Ho Seon followed Tae Hyung’s gaze, and for the first time since entering the room, finally looked at his wife. His smile quickly faded.

“Hwa Jin! Are you okay?” He sat up to attention. He reached across her skirts, and put his hands over Ki Wan’s. “You’re freezing!” He held Ki Wan’s hands tighter and gave them a squeeze.

“I believe your wife went for a dip in the nearby spring whilst you were out.”

Ho Seon lifted a hand to the back of Ki Wan’s neck, checking the temperature of his skin, he touched Ki Wan’s hair.

“You’re soaking wet!” He sounded genuinely concerned. But Ki Wan had barely noticed the damp seeping through his clothes. He was shivering from nerves not the cold.

“Hwa Jin, why don’t you go and get changed and get warm. I will get the maid to bring you some dinner.” He gave Ki Wan’s hands another squeeze, and prompted her to get up.

Ki Wan wandering aimlessly back to their bridal house as night began to fall around him. Should he have left Ho Seon alone with Tae Hyung, what if he told him the truth? What were Tae Hyung’s intentions? What was Ki Wan’s plan? He needed a plan. But he couldn’t think. He was still reeling from the shock of his encounter with Tae Hyung and as the night fell and the temperature dropped, he did begin to deeply feel the cold of his damp clothes.

He arrived back at their room, where he quickly tended to the fire under the house. Inside he lit a candle and began undressing. He hung up his wet dress and put on new under-dress. He was still freezing. He began to put on all the jackets and outwear he could find, then got under the covers of the bed.

Maybe he should leave? Run away into the night. What if Tae Hyung had him arrested, as a fraud or a pervert? What if he turned Ho Seon against him? But where would he go? Run away into the woods to starve or freeze to death? Before he could think of a plan, his eyes became heavy and he submitted to sleep.

He was awoken by Ho Seon gently shaking his shoulder.

“Hwa Jin. Hwa Jin. Wake up, have something to eat.”

At first Ki Wan thought it was morning, but the room was still dark and Ho Seon was still dressed.

“There’s some dinner here for you, you should eat something.”

Ki Wan begrudgingly sat up, his neck felt stiff and he was sweating under too many layers of clothing.

“Why are you wearing all my clothes?” Ho Seon laughed.

“I was cold.” Ki Wan drowsily answered.

“Mmhm”. Ho Seon nodded. He seemed himself. Not angry or scared. Tae Hyung must not have told him. Somehow, that make Ki Wan more unsettled. If he was keeping Ki Wan’s secret, was he planning on using it against him? A high-up military man, he could easily be the type of person to collect people’s secrets and use them to his advantage. This was Ki Wan’s crossroads, the illusion he had created for himself was finally shattered and he would have to make a decision. He would have to tell Ho Seon the truth.

Ki Wan starting shaking off the layers of jackets he was wearing, leaving a trial of clothes behind him on the floor as he went to join Ho Seon at the table.

“Wait.” Ho Seon stood up. Ki Wan froze. Ho Seon began approaching him.

“Your hair is still wet.” He said. Ki Wan sighed in relief.

“Oh.” He was still so drowsy, his limps felt heavy. He felt back to his wet bun – no wonder he had been so cold. He took out the pin and untied the ribbons. He rummaged around the dresser for a brush.

“Come here” Ho Seon plied, “You really need to eat something, you’re already so skinny – how can you go all day without eating. Mother said you were out half the day.”

Ki Wan sat down in front of the table and let Ho Seon take the brush from him. He slowly started picking at the food, but could barely stomach anything.

Ho Seon sat behind him, and began slowly brushing out his hair. It was a nice feeling. And Ki Wan almost began to fall asleep again.

“Tae Hyung spoke to me.” Ho Seon began softly. Ki Wan snapped back to attention, his heart hammering in his chest.

“Mmm?”

“He has a position for me in his department. He wants me to take it, and move to the capital.”

Ki Wan tried not to react. Ho Seon attentively kept brushing his hair, in long careful strokes down his back.

“Oh?”

“I told him I couldn’t take it. That my mother is too sick, and that you are just getting used to life here. But he said it was “of national importance”. I think things in the court are bad. He says he needs “allies”, whatever that means. I don’t want to go. I hate all the politics of court and I am perfectly happy living here. But he can be…. well, he is a difficult man to refuse – he’s powerful and … he said that it was really more of an order than a request.” He sighed.

“He said you would come with me of course, that we would be given housing at court. I am just sorry that you will have to move again. You just got settled here, and I don’t know what my mother will do without us – but she can’t make that journey she’s far too frail…”

He was rambling now, caught up in the rhythmic task of brushing Ki Wan’s hair, he was letting his own anxieties come tumbling out in a string of thoughts and apologies. Ki Wan had not seen him this anxious since their wedding night. He lifted a hand to stop the brush in Ho Seon’s hand, and turned to face him, their knees touching slightly.

Ki Wan had grown to love this space, their evenings together. In this candlelit cave that was theirs, where it was quiet and just the two of them. He knew he was about to ruin that forever.

Ki Wan took a deep breath.

“Ho Seon. I have something to tell you.”

TBC (Other parts here)

Authors Notes:

Yeah, sorry, trigger warning I guess? I made Tae Hyung a creep for added drama, cause every good Joseon drama has to have an evil antagonist.

And I hope you enjoyed my blatant references; to a certain natural spring in cloud recess and a little hair brushing reference to the gayest scene to ever pass chinese censorship. 

Hope you enjoyed!

[siriuslyblack12]

21 coops please? 🥺🥺

coops credit to @lumosinlove as always :) 21 - jealousy (but like healthy and cute jealousy) we love a little bit of healthy jealousy/possessiveness in this house The hallway to the Lion’s locker room was lively with post-practice adrenaline. The grins and shouts and jokes of the team could barely be contained by the time they could get in the showers and attempt to cool off after a hard day of work. Coach had really pushed them that day, though not enough that they were tired, more that they were edging for more. Remus bounced on his heels and bit his lip as he followed the rest of the team. Team, that was new and still unbelievable. What he didn’t notice was Talker following on his heels, or at least he didn’t notice until a still-gloved hand slapped his ass unexpectedly, “Hey, Rookie.” “Please stop calling me Rookie,” Remus complained with no real bitterness. Most of the guys were probably half-way dressed at that point, so he could stop and turn to face Thomas fully. “You did good today,” Talker replied with a smile. “I never knew how fast you were, Loops. No one else can compete.” Remus chuckled, “Thanks, Talkie, but I’m sure they can.” Thomas shook his head, wrapped an arm around Remus’ shoulders and guided him into the room as he hummed one of those new songs he’d added to the team playlist. The team - as he’d predicted - were in various states of undress. Logan leaned against Leo’s stall with only a pair of sweat pants that didn’t quite fit, whispering something in a low voice that caused a blush. Evgeni and Nado wrestled completely naked in the showers. Kasey, still pretty much fully dressed in goalie kit, danced around the room, occasionally inviting James or Olly to join him in his own world. Remus’ eyes however went straight to Sirius’ stall to find his boyfriend laughing heartily at the scene before him. His freshly cut hair (which Remus absolutely took credit for) fell into his ocean blue eyes and the 12 necklace around his neck swayed with every move of his head. God, Remus was in love. “Get naked, Loops,” Talker said far too loud as they made their way to their stalls. “There’s a new song I want to try out for shower karaoke today!” Shower karaoke. How could he forget? “Alright, alright, I’m on it.” “You bet you are!” Talker drawled out. Remus glanced over at Sirius again, still in his stall but now with one James Potter in front of him trying to coax him out, much to Sirius’ dismay. Remus shed his heavy gear, carefully folding what could be folded in contrast to most others in the room, and stepped into the showers fully. The warmth of the rushing water dancing against his back was refreshing and somehow cooling, bringing him down from his high. Some people, it seemed, were not affected the same way. “Loops, I mean this as platonically as possible,” Talker leaned over from his own shower, “But that ass though! Sirius is one lucky man!” Remus, only mildly mortified, couldn’t help but laugh, “If that’s platonic to you, then I’m not sure what you consider ‘romantic’.” “Wouldn’t you like to know,” He winked slyly. The shampoo bottle in Thomas’ hand suddenly became his personal microphone as Harry Styles started to sing over the speakers. At some point, he held it up to Remus to try and get him to sing along. “Absolutely not,” Remus tried. “My shower karaoke days are behind me. I’ve retired.” “What a shame,” Thomas complained. “I quite enjoyed your solo rendition of ‘Alexander Hamilton’.” Remus rolled his eyes and grabbed the bottle right from the other man’s hands, beginning to sing off-key. More guys had entered the showers, joining in to their awful kind-of concert. It was a good job they were good at hockey, Remus thought to himself. As he hit a high note with all the vigour it deserved, Remus heard Talker wolf-whistle loudly, “Go, Loops! I would totally date you if it wasn’t for Noelle, you know.” “And you’d have to get through me,” another voice called out as they stepped forward. As Remus got a better look, he saw Sirius, the only thing on his body the silver necklace that sparkled under the running water. His face was playful though his eyes were stormy as serious. Thomas only whistled again. “You get your man, Cap,” He called out with a grin.  Sirius flipped him off as he moved closer to Remus for a brief kiss, “Hey, baby.” “Hi.” “You played good today,” Sirius said honestly, not even realising he was parroting exactly what Thomas had said before. “You always play good, I love you on the ice.” “I love you too,” Remus smiled to his ears. Just as he was about to place a hand on Sirius’ shoulders and meet his face again, Thomas spluttered from his shower. “Keep it PG, guys,” He said. “As much as we love and support you, just remember that you are butt naked right now and sex is better for the bedroom.” Sirius’ eyes widened as Remus flushed all over. The rest of the room erupted in uncontrollable fits of laughter, including Thomas, as Sirius shooed him off with one hand, “Ok, ok, leave us alone.” “But, you know, If you wanted to...” Talker started. “NOPE!”

[honorary-grunkle-smoocher]

The Shimmy’s A Sham! | Stan X Reader |

//You can probably tell but this was inspired by that one scene in the grunkle dating sim... you know which one lmaoo//

//Tw alcohol consumtion//

Greasy’s is thumping with the heavy beat of 80s disco music, and even with the fruity, fizzy glass of gin you’re nursing and your eyes scanning over a primarily senior crowd, you catch yourself wondering why you’re still here. Sure, the drinks are cheap, especially so with the special discount on tonight, but you don’t feel as lively or as young (despite your age) as ad had promised.  

But then there’s a sudden hubbub of activity near the entrance of the run-down diner turned nightclub, and you can’t help further indulge in your people-watching hobbies. There are two older people, a man and a woman, both of whom you recognise. Lazy Susan, with her one faulty eyelid, looking all dressed up and buzzing with detached excitement. You could have sworn she’d been at the bar only a second ago, serving up drinks and chatting with all the patrons she knew well.

And then there’s the man; he’s dressed for Vegas, his bellbottoms subtle, but noticeable, and the gold buckle on his belt shining, even from here. His suit jacket is hanging open casually, showing off a lazily buttoned dress shirt. You can’t quite pin where you’ve seen his face before, his jaw sharp, his nose defined, with his age showing ruggedly in his skin, but you know you’d never forget a face like his.

It takes a second for you to realise you’re staring, and another to realise that he’s staring right back, and you only then notice how out of place he looks next to Lazy Susan. He doesn’t look uncomfortable, per se, but his disinterest in anything more than friendship with her seems to make him drift over to you, all the way across the diner. Reaching you, he says a few quick, quiet words to the other waitress on duty, and takes the seat next to yours with a sigh. The awkward tension is obvious immediately.

“So er, you come here often?”

You can’t help but burst out with laughter. It’s so painfully cliché of him that you press your forehead to the bar top with a chuckled groan.

“Did you really just say that to me?” you ask, bewildered and with one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, it usually works, you must be broken,” he jokes, giving the waitress a quiet thanks as she hands him his drink. “Let me start again, yeah? I’m Stan Pines.”

It suddenly hits you where you’ve seen him before. That weird little shop that you visited out in the woods with bullshit, glued-together amalgamations of horror – he was the owner. He seems to realise that you’ve clocked onto him, and a grin spreads across his cheeks.

“Yeah, don’t go swoonin’, I’m only a genius businessman,” Stan jokes, “what’s your name, sweatpea?”

“Oh, trust me, I won’t go ‘swoonin’’,” you playfully mimic him, “you robbed me of twenty dollars. And I’m (Name), sorry.”

He lets out a chuckle, insisting that it’s your own fault for being tricked by anything that makes you pay at the door with a no refunds sign on it. He’s got you there, you can’t lie.

“So, what brings you over to my gloomy little corner of the bar?” you ask finally, taking another slow sip from your drink.

The older man seems flustered all of a sudden, glancing back to where Lazy Susan is waiting patiently with a group of other women. He hesitates, tapping his large fingers against his empty glass.

“Well, I uh... I’ll be honest, I kind of just wanted to get away from Lazy Susan,” he admits, almost guiltily, “don’t get me wrong, she’s a great friend but I’m not exactly into how clingy she is already so...”

There’s silence as you wait for him to continue, though he looks like he’s struggling to put it all into words.

“Well, you looked just as bored as I thought I’d end up being, and I was hopin’ if I sidled up and danced with someone else, even if it wasn’t real, she’d take a hint, y’know?”

It takes a moment for you to realise you’re his hamster for this experiment, but hey? You aren’t doing anything, so why not go along with his weird, convoluted plan? You groan with a smile, realising how awkward he really is, despite the confidence he radiates.

“So, like, what do you want me to do?” you ask, before knocking back the rest of your gin, watching him with one eye squinted.

“Just... pretend to be my date, sweetpea, one dance should do it. It’ll be easy, I’m a great dancer,” he says, confidence regained. You shake your head with a laugh, hesitating as you tell him you’re not one for dancing. It falls on deaf ears, however, as he gets up from the barstool, offers you his hand and leads you into the dancefloor, a slower song fading in.

Suddenly Stan’s hands are at your waist, pulling you in close so your chest is pressed to his. That easy, tipsy grin is back on his lips, his eyes sparkling as you begin to sway to the soft beat and light piano of the music, hands resting on his broad shoulders.

“I think you were lyin’, sweetpea,” he chuckles into your ear, one hand moving down from your waist to the curve of your hip.

“Oh yeah? What about?”

“You can dance, look at you,” punctuating his observation by spinning you seamlessly, watching the iridescent blur of lights sink into your skin. You bloom in the gentle watercolours of red, green and purple, the spinning disco ball reflecting sharp rays perfectly against the angles of your face, and Stan feels his heart skip a beat inside his chest, thumping along to the music. Eyes open again and no longer slowly spinning, you laugh quietly. Everything feels so utterly perfect in this stranger’s strong hold, despite the slight wooziness of your vision.

The song fades away, and a more upbeat song begins to blare through the worn old speakers, and then Stan’s hands are slipping into yours, rough fingertips pushed against yours.

“How ‘bout we head back to the Shack, honey? A tour on the house,” he says with a wink, and you can’t help but snicker, resting your head against the lapels of his jacket as you mull it over.

Finally, with a charming, mischievous glint in your eyes, you reply with, “yeah sure, why not?”

[grigori77]

2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 2)

20.  ONWARD – Disney and Pixar’s best digitally animated family feature of 2020 (beating the admittedly impressive Soul to the punch) clearly has a love of fantasy roleplay games like Dungeons & Dragons, its quirky modern-day AU take populated by fantastical races and creatures seemingly tailor-made for the geek crowd … needless to say, me and many of my friends absolutely loved it.  That doesn’t mean that the classic Disney ideals of love, family and believing in yourself have been side-lined in favour of fan-service – this is as heartfelt, affecting and tearful as their previous standouts, albeit with plenty of literal magic added to the metaphorical kind.  The central premise is a clever one – once upon a time, magic was commonplace, but over the years technology came along to make life easier, so that in the present day the various races (elves, centaurs, fauns, pixies, goblins and trolls among others) get along fine without it. Then timid elf Ian Lightfoot (Tom Holland) receives a wizard’s staff for his sixteenth birthday, a bequeathed gift from his father, who died before he was born, with instructions for a spell that could bring him back to life for one whole day.  Encouraged by his brash, over-confident wannabe adventurer elder brother Barley (Chris Pratt), Ian tries it out, only for the spell to backfire, leaving them with the animated bottom half of their father and just 24 hours to find a means to restore the rest of him before time runs out.  Cue an “epic quest” … needless to say, this is another top-notch offering from the original masters of the craft, a fun, affecting and thoroughly infectious family-friendly romp with a winning sense of humour and inspired, flawless world-building.  Holland and Pratt are both fantastic, their instantly believable, ill-at-ease little/big brother chemistry effortlessly driving the story through its ingenious paces, and the ensuing emotional fireworks are hilarious and heart-breaking in equal measure, while there’s typically excellent support from Julia Louis-Dreyfus (Elaine from Seinfeld) as Ian and Barley’s put-upon but supportive mum, Laurel, Octavia Spencer as once-mighty adventurer-turned-restaurateur “Corey” the Manticore and Mel Rodriguez (Getting On, The Last Man On Earth) as overbearing centaur cop (and Laurel’s new boyfriend) Colt Bronco.  The film marks the sophomore feature gig for Dan Scanlon, who debuted with 2013’s sequel Monsters University, and while that was enjoyable enough I ultimately found it non-essential – no such verdict can be levelled against THIS film, the writer-director delivering magnificently in all categories, while the animation team have outdone themselves in every scene, from the exquisite environments and character/creature designs to some fantastic (and frequently delightfully bonkers) set-pieces, while there’s a veritable riot of brilliant RPG in-jokes to delight geekier viewers (gelatinous cube! XD).  Massive, unadulterated fun, frequently hilarious and absolutely BURSTING with Disney’s trademark heart, this was ALMOST my animated feature of the year.  More on that later …

19.  THE GENTLEMEN – Guy Ritchie’s been having a rough time with his last few movies (The Man From UNCLE didn’t do too bad but it wasn’t exactly a hit and was largely overlooked or simply ignored, while intended franchise-starter King Arthur: Legend of the Sword was largely derided and suffered badly on release, dying a quick death financially – it’s a shame on both counts, because I really liked them), so it’s nice to see him having some proper success with his latest, even if he has basically reverted to type to do it.  Still, when his newest London gangster flick is THIS GOOD it seems churlish to quibble – this really is what he does best, bringing together a collection of colourful geezers and shaking up their status quo, then standing back and letting us enjoy the bloody, expletive-riddled results. This particularly motley crew is another winning selection, led by Matthew McConaughey as ruthlessly successful cannabis baron Mickey Pearson, who’s looking to retire from the game by selling off his massive and highly lucrative enterprise for a most tidy sum (some $400,000,000 to be precise) to up-and-coming fellow American ex-pat Matthew Berger (Succession’s Jeremy Strong, oozing sleazy charm), only for local Chinese triad Dry Eye (Crazy Rich Asians’ Henry Golding, chewing the scenery with enthusiasm) to start throwing spanners into the works with the intention of nabbing the deal for himself for a significant discount.  Needless to say Mickey’s not about to let that happen … McConaughey is ON FIRE here, the best he’s been since Dallas Buyers Club in my opinion, clearly having great fun sinking his teeth into this rich character and Ritchie’s typically sparkling, razor-witted dialogue, and he’s ably supported by a quality ensemble cast, particularly co-star Charlie Hunnam as Mickey’s ice-cold, steel-nerved right-hand-man Raymond Smith, Downton Abbey’s Michelle Dockery as his classy, strong-willed wife Rosalind, Colin Farrell as a wise-cracking, quietly exasperated MMA trainer and small-time hood simply known as the Coach (who gets many of the film’s best lines), and, most notably, Hugh Grant as the film’s nominal narrator, thoroughly morally bankrupt private investigator Fletcher, who consistently steals the film.  This is Guy Ritchie at his very best – a twisty rug-puller of a plot that constantly leaves you guessing, brilliantly observed and richly drawn characters you can’t help loving in spite of the fact there’s not a single hero among them, a deliciously unapologetic, politically incorrect sense of humour and a killer soundtrack.  Getting the cinematic year off to a phenomenal start, it’s EASILY Ritchie’s best film since Sherlock Holmes, and a strong call-back to the heady days of Snatch (STILL my favourite) and Lock, Stock & Two Smoking Barrels.  Here’s hoping he’s on a roll again, eh?

18.  SPONTANEOUS – one of the year’s biggest under-the-radar surprise hits for me was one which I actually might not have caught if things had been a little more normal and ordered.  Thankfully with all the lockdown and cinematic shutdown bollocks going on, this fantastically subversive and deeply satirical indie teen comedy horror came along at the perfect time, and I completely flipped out over it.  Now those who know me know I don’t tend to gravitate towards teen cinema, but like all those other exceptions I’ve loved over the years, this one had a brilliantly compulsive hook I just couldn’t turn down – small-town high-schooler Mara (Knives Out and Netflix’ Cursed’s Katherine Langford) is your typical cool outsider kid, smart, snarky and just putting up with the scene until she can graduate and get as far away as possible … until one day in her senior year one of her classmates just inexplicably explodes. Like her peers, she’s shocked and she mourns, then starts to move on … until it happens again.  As the death toll among the senior class begins to mount, it becomes clear something weird is going on, but Mara has other things on her mind because the crisis has, for her, had an unexpected benefit – without it she wouldn’t have fallen in love with like-minded oddball new kid Dylan (Lean On Pete and Words On Bathroom Walls’ Charlie Plummer). The future’s looking bright, but only if they can both live to see it … this is a wickedly intelligent film, powered by a skilfully executed script and a wonderfully likeable young cast who consistently steer their characters around the potential cliched pitfalls of this kind of cinema, while debuting writer-director Brian Duffield (already a rising star thanks to scripts for Underwater, The Babysitter and blacklist darling Jane Got a Gun among others) show he’s got as much talent and flair for crafting truly inspired cinema as he has for thinking it up in the first place, delivering some impressively offbeat set-pieces and several neat twists you frequently don’t see coming ahead of time.  Langford and Plummer as a sassy, spicy pair who are easy to root for without ever getting cloying or sweet, while there’s glowing support from the likes of Hayley Law (Rioverdale, Altered Carbon, The New Romantic) as Mara’s best friend Tess, Piper Perabo and Transparent’s Rob Huebel as her increasingly concerned parents, and Insecure’s Yvonne Orji as Agent Rosetti, the beleaguered government employee sent to spearhead the investigation into exactly what’s happening to these kids.  Quirky, offbeat and endlessly inventive, this is one of those interesting instances where I’m glad they pushed the horror elements into the background so we could concentrate on the comedy, but more importantly these wonderfully well-realised and vital characters – there are some skilfully executed shocks, but far more deep belly laughs, and there’s bucketloads of heart to eclipse the gore.  Another winning debut from a talent I intend to watch with great interest in the future.

17.  HAMILTON – arriving just as Black Lives Matter reached fever-pitch levels, this feature presentation of the runaway Broadway musical smash-hit could not have been better timed. Shot over three nights during the show’s 2016 run with the original cast and cut together with specially created “setup shots”, it’s an immersive experience that at once puts you right in amongst the audience (at times almost a character themselves, never seen but DEFINITELY heard) but also lets you experience the action up close.  And what action – it’s an incredible show, a thoroughly fascinating piece of work that reads like something very staid and proper on paper (an all-encompassing biographical account of the life and times of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton) but, in execution, becomes something very different and EXTREMELY vital.  The execution certainly couldn’t be further from the usual period biopic fare this kind of historical subject matter usually gets (although in the face of recent high quality revisionist takes like Marie Antoinette, The Great and Tesla it’s not SO surprising), while the cast is not at all what you’d expect – with very few notable exceptions the cast is almost entirely people of colour, despite the fact that the real life individuals they’re playing were all very white indeed.  Every single one of them is also an absolute revelation – the show’s writer-composer Lin-Manuel Miranda (already riding high on the success of In the Heights) carries the central role of Hamilton with effortless charm and raw star power, Leslie Odom Jr. (Smash, Murder On the Orient Express) is duplicitously complex as his constant nemesis Aaron Burr, Christopher Jackson (In the Heights, Moana, Bull) oozes integrity and nobility as his mentor and friend George Washington, Phillipa Soo is sweet and classy as his wife Eliza while Renée Elise Goldsberry (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Jacks, Altered Carbon) is fiery and statuesque as her sister Angelica Schuyler (the one who got away), and Jonathan Groff (Mindhunter) consistently steals every scene he’s in as fiendish yet childish fan favourite King George III, but the show (and the film) ultimately belongs to veritable powerhouse Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting, The Good Lord Bird) in a spectacular duel role, starting subtly but gaining scene-stealing momentum as French Revolutionary Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, before EXPLODING onto the stage in the second half as indomitable third American President Thomas Jefferson.  Not having seen the stage show, I was taken completely by surprise by this, revelling in its revisionist genius and offbeat, quirky hip-hop charm, spellbound by the skilful ease with which is takes the sometimes quite dull historical fact and skews it into something consistently entertaining and absorbing, transported by the catchy earworm musical numbers and thoroughly tickled by the delightfully cheeky sense of humour strung throughout (at least when I wasn’t having my heart broken by moments of raw dramatic power). Altogether it’s a pretty unique cinematic experience I wish I could have actually gotten to see on the big screen, and one I’ve consistently recommended to all my friends, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals.  As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need a proper Les Misérables style screen adaptation – this is about as perfect a presentation as the show could possibly hope for.

16.  SPUTNIK – summer’s horror highlight (despite SERIOUSLY tough competition) was a guaranteed sleeper hit that I almost missed entirely, stumbling across the trailer one day on YouTube and getting bowled over by its potential, prompting me to hunt it down by any means necessary.  The feature debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, this first contact sci-fi chiller is about as far from E.T. as it’s possible to get, sharing some of the same DNA as Carpenter’s The Thing but proudly carving its own path with consummate skill and definitely signalling great things to come from its brand new helmer and relative unknown screenwriters Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev.  Oksana Akinshina (probably best known in the West for her powerful climactic cameo in The Bourne Supremacy) is the beating heart of the film as neurophysiologist Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova, brought in to aid in the investigation in the Russian wilderness circa 1983 after an orbital research mission goes horribly wrong.  One of the cosmonauts dies horribly, while the other, Konstantin (The Duelist’s Pyotr Fyodorov) seems unharmed, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s now the host for something decidedly extraterrestrial and potentially terrifying, and as Tatyana becomes more deeply embroiled in her assignment she comes to realise that her superiors, particularly mysterious Red Army project leader Colonel Semiradov (The PyraMMMid’s Fyodor Bondarchuk), have far more insidious plans for Konstantin and his new “friend” than she could ever imagine. This is about as dark, intense and nightmarish as this particular sub-genre gets, a magnificently icky body horror that slowly builds its tension as we’re gradually exposed to the various truths and the awful gravity of the situation slowly reveals itself, punctuated by skilfully executed shocks and some particularly horrifying moments when the evils inflicted by the humans in charge prove far worse than anything the alien can do, while the ridiculously talented writers have a field day pulling the rug out from under us again and again, never going for the obvious twist and keeping us guessing right to the devastating ending, while the beautifully crafted digital creature effects are nothing short of astonishing and thoroughly creepy.  Akinshina dominates the film with her unbridled grace, vulnerability and integrity, the relationship that develops between Tatyana and Konstantin (Fyodorov delivering a beautifully understated turn belying deep inner turmoil) feeling realistically earned as it goes from tentatively wary to tragically bittersweet, while Bondarchuk invests the Colonel with a nuanced air of tarnished authority and restrained brutality that made him one of my top screen villains for the year.  One of 2020’s great sleeper hits, I can’t speak of this film highly enough – it’s a genuine revelation, an instant classic for whom I’ll sing its praises for years to come, and I wish enormous future success to all the creative talents involved.

15.  THE INVISIBLE MAN – looks like third time’s a charm for Leigh Whannell, writer-director of my ALMOST horror movie of the year (more on that later) – while he’s had immense success as a horror writer over the years (co-creator of both the Saw and Insidious franchises), as a director his first two features haven’t exactly set the world alight, with debut Insidious: Chapter III garnering similar takes to the rest of the series but ultimately turning out to be a bit of a damp squib quality-wise, while his second feature Upgrade was a stone-cold masterpiece that was (rightly) EXTREMELY well received critically, but ultimately snuck in under the radar and has remained a stubbornly hidden gem since. No such problems with his third feature, though – his latest collaboration with producer Jason Blum and the insanely lucrative Blumhouse Pictures has proven a massive hit both financially AND with reviewers, and deservedly so.  Having given up on trying to create a shared cinematic universe inhabited by their classic monsters, Universal resolved to concentrate on standalones to showcase their elite properties, and their first try is a rousing success, Whannell bringing HG Wells’ dark and devious human monster smack into the 21st Century as only he can.  The result is a surprisingly subtle piece of work, much more a lethally precise exercise in cinematic sleight of hand and extraordinary acting than flashy visual effects, strictly adhering to the Blumhouse credo of maximum returns for minimum bucks as the story is stripped down to its bare essentials and allowed to play out without any unnecessary weight.  The Handmaid’s Tale’s Elizabeth Moss once again confirms what a masterful actress she is as she brings all her performing weapons to bear in the role of Cecelia “Cee” Kass, the cloistered wife of affluent but monstrously abusive optics pioneer Aidan Griffin (Netflix’ The Haunting of Hill House’s Oliver Jackson-Cohen), who escapes his clutches in the furiously tense opening sequence and goes to ground with the help of her closest childhood friend, San Francisco cop James Lanier (Leverage’s Aldis Hodge) and his teenage daughter Sydney (A Wrinkle in Time’s Storm Reid).  Two weeks later, Aidan commits suicide, leaving Cee with a fortune to start her life over (with the proviso that she’s never ruled mentally incompetent), but as she tries to find her way in the world again little things start going wrong for her, and she begins to question if there might be something insidious going on.  As her nerves start to unravel, she begins to suspect that Aidan is still alive, still very much in her life, fiendishly toying with her and her friends, but no-one can see him.  Whannell plays her paranoia up for all it’s worth, skilfully teasing out the scares so that, just like her friends, we begin to wonder if it might all be in her head after all, before a spectacular mid-movie reveal throws the switch into high gear and the true threat becomes clear.  The lion’s share of the film’s immense success must of course go to Moss – her performance is BEYOND a revelation, a blistering career best that totally powers the whole enterprise, and it goes without saying that she’s the best thing in this.  Even so, she has sterling support from Hodge and Reid, as well as Love Child’s Harriet Dyer as Cee’s estranged big sister Emily and Wonderland’s Michael Dorman as Adrian’s slimy, spineless lawyer brother Tom, and, while he doesn’t have much actual (ahem) “screen time”, Jackson-Cohen delivers a fantastically icy, subtly malevolent turn which casts a large “shadow” over the film.  This is one of my very favourite Blumhouse films, a pitch-perfect psychological chiller that keeps the tension cranked up unbearably tight and never lets go, Whannell once again displaying uncanny skill with expert jump-scares, knuckle-whitening chills and a truly astounding standout set-piece that easily goes down as one of the top action sequences of 2020. Undoubtedly the best version of Wells’ story to date, this goes a long way in repairing the damage of Universal’s abortive “Dark Universe” efforts, as well as showcasing a filmmaking master at the very height of his talents.

14.  EXTRACTION – the Coronavirus certainly has threw a massive spanner in the works of the year’s cinematic calendar – among many other casualties to the blockbuster shunt, the latest (and most long-awaited) MCU movie, Black Widow, should have opened to further record-breaking box office success at the end of spring, but instead the theatres were all closed and virtually all the heavyweights were pushed back or shelved indefinitely.  Thank God, then, for the streaming services, particularly Hulu, Amazon and Netflix, the latter of which provided a perfect movie for us to see through the key transition into the summer blockbuster season, an explosively flashy big budget action thriller ushered in by MCU alumni the Russo Brothers (who produced and co-wrote this adaptation of Ciudad, a graphic novel that Joe Russo co-created with Ande Parks and Fernando Leon Gonzalez) and barely able to contain the sheer star-power wattage of its lead, Thor himself.  Chris Hemsworth plays Tyler Rake, a former Australian SAS operative who hires out his services to an extraction operation under the command of mercenary Nik Khan (The Patience Stone’s Golshifteh Farahani), brought in to liberate Ovi Mahajan (Rudhraksh Jaiswal in his first major role), the pre-teen son of incarcerated Indian crime lord Ovi Sr. (Pankaj Tripathi), who has been abducted by Bangladeshi rival Amir Asif (Priyanshu Painyuli).  The rescue itself goes perfectly, but when the time comes for the hand-off the team is double-crossed and Tyler is left stranded in the middle of Dhaka with no choice but to keep Ovi alive as every corrupt cop and street gang in the city closes in around them.  This is the feature debut of Sam Hargrave, the latest stuntman to try his hand at directing, so he certainly knows his way around an action set-piece, and the result is a thoroughly breathless adrenaline rush of a film, bursting at the seams with spectacular fights, gun battles and car chases, dominated by a stunning sustained sequence that plays out in one long shot, guaranteed to leave jaws lying on the floor.  Not that there should be any surprise – Hargrave cut his teeth as a stunt coordinator for the Russos on Captain America: Civil War and their Avengers films.  That said, he displays strong talent for the quieter disciplines of filmmaking too, delivering quality character development and drawing out consistently noteworthy performances from his cast.  Of course, Hemsworth can do the action stuff in his sleep, but there’s a lot more to Tyler than just his muscle, the MCU veteran investing him with real wounded vulnerability and a tragic fatalism which colours every scene, while Jaiswal is exceptional throughout, showing plenty of promise for the future, and there’s strong support from Farahani and Painyuli, as well as Stranger Things’ David Harbour as world-weary retired merc Gaspard, and a particularly impressive, muscular turn from Randeep Hooda (Once Upon a Time in Mumbai) as Saju, a former Para and Ovi’s bodyguard, who’s determined to take possession of the boy himself, even if he has to go through Tyler to get him.  This is action cinema that really deserves to be seen on the big screen – I watched it twice in a week and would happily have paid for two trips to the cinema for it if I could have.  As we looked down the barrel of a summer season largely devoid of blockbuster fare, I couldn’t recommend this enough.  Thank the gods for Netflix …

13.  THE TRIAL OF THE CHICAGO 7 – although it’s definitely a film that really benefitted enormously from releasing on Netflix during the various lockdowns, this was one of the blessed few I actually got to see during one of the UK’s frustratingly rare lulls when cinemas were actually OPEN.  Rather perversely it therefore became one of my favourite cinematic experiences of 2020, but then I’m just as much a fan of well-made cerebral films as I am of the big, immersive blockbuster EXPERIENCES, so this probably still would have been a standout in a normal year. Certainly if this was a purely CRITICAL list for the year this probably would have placed high in the Top Ten … Aaron Sorkin is a writer whose work I have ardently admired ever since he went from esteemed playwright to in-demand talent for both the big screen AND the small with A Few Good Men, and TTOTC7 is just another in a long line of consistently impressive, flawlessly written works rife with addictive quickfire dialogue, beautifully observed characters and rewardingly propulsive narrative storytelling (therefore resting comfortably amongst the well-respected likes of The West Wing, Charlie Wilson’s War, Moneyball and The Social Network).  It also marks his second feature as a director (after fascinating and incendiary debut Molly’s Game), and once again he’s gone for true story over fiction, tackling the still controversial subject of the infamous 1968 trial of the “ringleaders” of the infamous riots which marred Chicago’s Diplomatic National Convention five months earlier, in which thousands of hippies and college students protesting the Vietnam War clashed with police.  Spurred on by the newly-instated Presidential Administration of Richard Nixon to make some examples, hungry up-and-coming prosecutor Richard Schultz (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is confident in his case, while the Seven – who include respected and astute student activist Tom Hayden (Eddie Redmayne) and confrontational counterculture firebrands Abbie Hoffman (Sacha Baron Cohen) and Jerry Rubin (Succession’s Jeremy Strong) – are the clear underdogs.  They’re a divided bunch (particularly Hayden and Hoffman, who never mince their words about what little regard they hold for each other), and they’re up against the combined might of the U.S. Government, while all they have on their side is pro-bono lawyer and civil rights activist William Kunstler (Mark Rylance), who’s sharp, driven and thoroughly committed to the cause but clearly massively outmatched … not to mention the fact that the judge presiding over the case is Julius Hoffman (Frank Langella), a fierce and uncompromising conservative who’s clearly 100% on the Administration’s side, and who might in fact be stark raving mad (he also frequently goes to great lengths to make it clear to all concerned that he is NOT related to Abbie).  Much as we’ve come to expect from Sorkin, this is cinema of grand ideals and strong characters, not big spectacle and hard action, and all the better for it – he’s proved time and again that he’s one of the very best creative minds in Hollywood when it comes to intelligent, thought-provoking and engrossing thinking-man’s entertainment, and this is pure par for the course, keeping us glued to the screen from the skilfully-executed whirlwind introductory montage to the powerfully cathartic climax, and every varied and brilliant scene in-between.  This is heady stuff, focusing on what’s still an extremely thorny issue made all the more urgently relevant and timely given what was (and still is) going on in American politics at the time, and everyone involved here was clearly fully committed to making the film as palpable, powerful and resonant as possible for the viewer, no matter their nationality or political inclination.  Also typical for a Sorkin film, the cast are exceptional, everyone clearly having the wildest time getting their teeth into their finely-drawn characters and that magnificent dialogue – Redmayne and Baron Cohen are compellingly complimentary intellectual antagonists given their radically different approaches and their roles’ polar opposite energies, while Rylance delivers another pitch-perfect, simply ASTOUNDING performance that once again marks him as one of the very best actors of his generation, and there are particularly meaty turns from Strong, Langella, Aquaman’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II (as besieged Black Panther Bobby Seale) and a potent late appearance from Michael Keaton that sear themselves into the memory long after viewing. Altogether then, this is a phenomenal film which deserves to be seen no matter the format, a thought-provoking and undeniably IMPORTANT masterwork from a master cinematic storyteller that says as much about the world we live in now as the decidedly turbulent times it portrays …

12.  GREYHOUND – when the cinemas closed back in March, the fate of many of the major summer blockbusters we’d been looking forward to was thrown into terrible doubt. Some were pushed back to more amenable dates in the autumn or winter (which even then ultimately proved frustratingly ambitious), others knocked back a whole year to fill summer slots for 2021, but more than a few simply dropped off the radar entirely with the terrible words “postponed until further notice” stamped on them, and I lamented them all, this one in particular.  It hung in there longer than some, stubbornly holding onto its June release slot for as long as possible, but eventually it gave up the ghost too … but thanks to Apple TV+, not for long, ultimately releasing less than a month later than intended.  Thankfully the film itself was worth the fuss, a taut World War II suspense thriller that’s all killer, no filler – set during the infamous Battle of the Atlantic, it portrays the constant life-or-death struggle faced by the Allied warships assigned to escort the transport convoys as they crossed the ocean, defending their charges from German U-boats.  Adapted from C.S. Forester’s famous 1955 novel The Good Shepherd by Tom Hanks and directed by Aaron Schneider (Get Low), the narrative focuses on the crew of the escort leader, American destroyer USS Fletcher, codenamed “Greyhound”, and in particular its captain, Commander Ernest Krause (Hanks), a career sailor serving his first command.  As they cross “the Pit”, the most dangerous middle stretch of the journey where they spend days without air-cover, they find themselves shadowed by “the Wolf Pack”, a particularly cunning group of German submarines that begin to pick away at the convoy’s stragglers.  Faced with daunting odds, a dwindling supply of vital depth-charges and a ruthless, persistent enemy, Krause must make hard choices to bring his ships home safe … jumping into the thick of the action within the first ten minutes and maintaining its tension for the remainder of the trim 90-minute run, this is screen suspense par excellence, a sleek textbook example of how to craft a compelling big screen knuckle-whitener with zero fat and maximum reward, delivering a series of desperate naval scraps packed with hide-and-seek intensity, heart-in-mouth near-misses and fist-in-air cathartic payoffs by the bucket-load.  Hanks is subtly magnificent, the calm centre of the narrative storm as a supposed newcomer to this battle arena who could have been BORN for it, bringing to mind his similarly unflappable in Captain Phillips and certainly not suffering by comparison; by and large he’s the focus point, but other crew members make strong (if sometimes quite brief) impressions, particularly Stephen Graham as Krause’s reliably seasoned XO, Lt. Commander Charlie Cole, The Magnificent Seven’s Manuel Garcia-Rulfo and Just Mercy’s Rob Morgan, while Elisabeth Shue does a lot with a very small part in brief flashbacks as Krause’s fiancée Evelyn. Relentless, exhilarating and thoroughly unforgettable, this was one of the true action highlights of the summer, and one hell of a war flick.  I’m so glad it made the cut for the summer …

11.  PROJECT POWER – with Marvel and DC pushing their tent-pole titles back in the face of COVID, the usual superhero antics we’ve come to expect for the summer were pretty thin on the ground in 2020, leading us to find our geeky fan thrills elsewhere. Unfortunately, pickings were frustratingly slim – Korean comic book actioner Gundala was entertaining but workmanlike, while Thor AU Mortal was underwhelming despite strong direction from Troll Hunter’s André Øvredal, and The New Mutants just got shat on by the studio and its distributors and no mistake – thank the Gods, then, for Netflix, once again riding to the rescue with this enjoyably offbeat super-thriller, which takes an intriguing central premise and really runs with it.  New designer drug Power has hit the streets of New Orleans, able to give anyone who takes it a superpower for five minutes … the only problem is, until you try it, you don’t know what your own unique talent is – for some, it could mean five minutes of invisibility, or insane levels of super-strength, but other powers can be potentially lethal, the really unlucky buggers just blowing up on the spot.  Robin (The Hate U Give’s Dominique Fishback) is a teenage Power-pusher with dreams of becoming a rap star, dealing the pills so she can help her diabetic mum; Frank Shaver (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is one of her customers, a police detective who uses his power of near invulnerability to even the playing field when supercharged crims cause a disturbance.  Their lives are turned upside down when Art (Jamie Foxx) arrives in town – he’s a seriously badass ex-soldier determined to hunt down the source of Power by any means necessary, and he’s not above tearing the Big Easy apart to do it. This is a fun, gleefully infectious rollercoaster that doesn’t take itself too seriously, revelling in the anarchic potential of its premise and crafting some suitably OTT effects-driven chaos brought to pleasingly visceral fruition by its skilfully inventive director, Ariel Schulman (Catfish, Nerve, Viral), while Mattson Tomlin (the screenwriter of the DCEU’s oft-delayed, incendiary headline act The Batman) takes the story in some very interesting directions and poses fascinating questions about what Power’s TRULY capable of.  Gordon-Levitt and Fishback are both brilliant, the latter particularly impressing in what’s sure to be a major breakthrough role for her, and the friendship their characters share is pretty adorable, while Foxx really is a force to be reckoned with, pretty chill even when he’s in deep shit but fully capable of turning into a bona fide killing machine at the flip of a switch, and there’s strong support from Westworld’s Rodrigo Santoro as Biggie, Power’s delightfully oily kingpin, Courtney B. Vance as Frank’s by-the-book superior, Captain Crane, Amy Landecker as Gardner, the morally bankrupt CIA spook responsible for the drug’s production, and Machine Gun Kelly as Newt, a Power dealer whose pyrotechnic “gift” really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  Exciting, inventive, frequently amusing and infectiously likeable, this was some of the most uncomplicated cinematic fun I had all summer.  Not bad for something which I’m sure was originally destined to become one of the season’s B-list features …

[buckyreaderrecs]

Wax and Wane

Summary: Bucky was sure he'd felt all the different types of bad a person could feel. He was wrong. You were pretty sure it was illegal to drive away with an Avenger in the back of your van, but what else could you do? A story about grief that is basically the 'flowers grow in the sidewalk cracks' metaphor fanfictionalised.

Words: 5,614 Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Thor Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame never happened), Stark Tower still exists, other Marvel characters are mentioned but aren’t central to plot, recovering Bucky, not angsty but a sad story, she/her pronouns Warnings: illness/death, sick children, grief

Note: This was written for Nik's 1k Writing Challenge - @serpienten  My dialogue prompt was, "I'll keep you warm. Hold me closer." I hope you love it, Nik! 

EDIT: Accidentally had all the Y/N replaced with my name because of the Chrome extension. Hopefully fixed, but if you see Rhiannon pop up, please let me know so I can edit. Embarrassing lol.

Wax and Wane

As the paint was brushed gently across their skin in broad strokes, you could read the joy and pleasure in their sweet little faces. It was a very minor and short term relief from their day-to-day pain, but it was the very least you could do. Face painting wasn't going to cure cancer or mend broken bones, but it made the residents of the hospital's children's ward happy.

Most of the long-term patients knew you. You were the girl in the tutu and butterfly wings that would come and blow bubbles and make them smile. But on that day, you weren't the one they were excited for.

The children were in a frenzy as The Avengers entered the room, dressed in their best outfits (minus any dangerous weaponry, you assumed). You stood to the side of the room with the doctors, nurses, and parents, and listened along with an enraptured audience as Captain America and Iron Man introduced the team. The kids couldn't sit for long, so very quickly the nibbles and treats were brought out and the room calmed into a soft party atmosphere.

As soon as you'd set up your station, there was a line of children wanting to have webs and stars painted. You worked quickly, getting through the line fast. Staying put, you only had a chance to briefly survey the room before Liam, one of your most special friends, trotted up to you, pulling along someone new.

"Hey, Liam," you greeted. He let go of his new friend's hand to hug you.

"Look, Y/N!" he said, pointing up. "It's Bucky!"

You looked up at Bucky Barnes, who would have towered over you even if you had been standing. The child's size plastic chair you were on really added a comical size difference though.

"Hi, Bucky," you said, coy smile. Bucky softly smiled back. "You're Liam's favourite,"

"Yeah, I told'ed him that!" Liam said, not a shred of self-consciousness in the child. "And now we can be matching,"

"Matching?" you asked.

"Yeah, 'cause you do the painting and you can paint my arm like Bucky's," Liam explained, holding his prosthetic arm out in demonstration.

Glancing up at Bucky to make sure he was privy to the plan, he simply gave a little shrug.

"Sounds good to me. How about you sit in this chair here, Liam, and we get Bucky to sit right next to us on the floor. Is that okay?" you asked both of them.

Liam jumped into the seat, sticking his arm out ready.

Bucky had a bit of a harder time folding himself down, but he eventually managed to sit in front of you comfortably.

"Okay if I borrow your arm for a bit?" you asked Bucky.

He nodded and held it out to you. When you took it, laying it across one of your legs so you could copy the seams and markings, Bucky held his breath. Most people hesitated. He figured some of them were afraid, and some didn't want to appear rude. Not you though. To you, his arm was just that - an arm. You'd kinda grown used to celebrities (is that what superheroes are classified as? you wondered to yourself) by then. Make a Wish and fundraising events and all that jazz… Turns out most famous people are pretty normal, boring even.

Bucky watched you pull a bunch of markers out of your kit and begin replicating the aesthetic of his vibranium arm onto Liam's plastic prosthetic. He let you gently move him as needed, and found himself in awe of how good your Sharpie skills were.

"You're really good," he said, speaking up for the first time.

Liam held most of the space in the conversation, which was fine by both of you. He told Bucky about his illness, and how even though he'd lost his arm, he was the "luckiest kid in New York" because he was alive and because he got to meet The Avengers. There were shades of adult in his words, like he'd been told of his own luck before.

While Liam spoke, you stole glances at Bucky. Mostly, his gaze was on Liam, sometimes darting over to you and away just as fast; he was avoiding eye contact. However, he quickly would turn to focus on particularly loud sounds or doors opening. If you'd had a chance to watch any of the other heroes in the room, you'd note they all did the same.

"Doin' okay, Liam?" you checked in when the boy had gone quiet.

Liam nodded frantically, not wanting to disappoint. "Yeah!" he affirmed.

"Maybe just need a little nap after this, huh buddy?" you asked.

"Maybe," he replied, relieved that there was a nap in his future.

"Think I might need one too," Bucky chimed in. Liam giggled like it was a joke.

"All done!" you announced.

When the very elated Liam was done tippy tapping and hugging, he ran off to show his parents how absolutely cool he was.

You and Bucky stood, both stretching out your limbs.

"Think you've made a friend for life there," you told him; he softly smiled in reply. "Can I just say something that might be way out of place? I just… I don't know… I feel like you need to hear it."

Bucky frowned, studied your face for a second. "Sure,"

"Okay… So… You do know that you deserve to be here, right?"

Mostly his expression was blank, then his head tilted to the side just a little. You'd been reading him the whole time, he realised. He felt exposed. But there was nowhere to run to.

"Maybe…" he finally settled on saying.

"Maybe?" you scoffed. "I mean, kids are lining up to meet you… And you're not questioning if, like, Wanda Maximoff or Natasha Romanoff should be here, you know what I mean?"

Bucky looked over to where Scarlet Witch and Black Widow were forming a girl gang. "They're different. It's different," he argued, but his words were laced with too much sadness for you to give in.

"Yeah… If you wanna get technical, weren't you the only one under mind control or whatever?" you posed.

Bucky looked at you, tried to figure out why you were being so… persistently kind. Your logic made sense, and something in him considered believing it.

"I'm just saying," you continued, "You deserve to be here. And if you don't wanna accept that, then it can be like… Liam deserves for you to be here."

That, Bucky could get behind. He nodded. "Thank you," he said, awkward but earnest.

You shrugged it off, then took a slow step towards him. "Hug?"

He blinked stupidly, then nodded, opening his arms and letting you step into them. While you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, Bucky hesitated for a moment, then slid his arms around you. People around the room, even the ones that didn't know Bucky, watched how his hands lingered in the air before settling on your back. They saw how he melted into the hug, let his head rest on your shoulder and closed his eyes.

When you stepped away from each other, he'd inherited some of your fairy glitter.

"I'll see you next time, I guess," you offered, letting your sentence trail off enough that Bucky could catch it if he wanted. There was room for him to say anything. But, he just nodded.

Bucky watched you walk away.

Sam appeared at his side. "So, are you gonna-" Sam said, the amusement clear in his tone.

"Don't," Bucky interrupted.

"She's clearly-"

"I said don't," Bucky snapped, walking out of the room.

Sam went to follow, worried he'd genuinely upset his friend, but he caught Steve's eye. A subtle shake of the head told him to stand down.

…

Although you buried it deep inside, there was some small part of you that thought maybe you'd hear from Bucky. You weren't exactly sure why you thought that was going to happen. It was easy to let that idea fall in the face of logic though; he was an Avenger… very busy… very private… etc. etc. Nonetheless, that small part stayed alight, and it fed your dreams all the way through to the next time you would cross paths with Bucky again.

It was a different hospital, but the same type of event. Sparkle and shine and cheer the kids up. Although there were less Avengers than the first, the children were entirely chuffed with meeting their heroes. And, this event had something the previous did not. Thor. His laugh bellowed all through the ward's corridors, providing a sharp contrast to the otherwise sterile mundane life of the hospital.

Thor promised the children that it wasn't that they weren't worthy of wielding Mjolner, it was that they just weren't ready yet. "You're far too little! When you're big and strong, like me!" He filled the children with more hope than they'd had in a long time.

Your attention constantly being drawn to the larger-than-life Asgardian was a welcomed distraction… You were trying to give Bucky space, deciding that if he wanted to talk to you, he could. You wouldn't push it. Two superheroes that apparently did want to talk to you, though, were Falcon and Captain America.

Like you were their mission, there was hardly a second where one of them wasn't by your side. Sam was entirely unhelpful, giving creative input to all the face painting. He made the kids laugh though, often at jokes that went over their innocent heads. It was his sassy tone they really liked. Steve was a little calmer, answering weird and wonderful questions only children could think up.

They were both charming, personable, and genuinely fun to be around, but what were they doing? Were they trying to coax Bucky in? Provide a buffer? Or, no… Maybe they were keeping you from him? Shaking the thought from your head, you simply blew bubbles and painted faces and covered the room in confetti.

You would have liked to say you didn't notice when Bucky slipped from the room, not returning, but that small part of you most definitely did. It most definitely noticed and you most definitely felt the effect of him not speaking to you, not even offering a smile across the room.

"Did I do something?" you finally asked Steve, not needing to explain the context.

"No… It's not you…" he answered, looking over at the door Bucky had left through. "He's just… He's trying…"

…

The children's ward was quiet. It was like that on Tuesday mornings. No events. Rounds over. Just the everyday life of sick children and distraught parents. As you walked down the corridor, you glanced through open doorways on your way to the nurses' station.

It was a hard place to be.

Something caught your eye and you stopped yourself a second too late, passing the room before you could see what it was. A flash of something. Stepping back, you snuck a look around the corner.

A sunbeam off vibranium. Bucky Barnes was folded next to a bed, his arms crossed on the edge of the mattress, his head resting on them. He was asleep. You took a step into the room, then looked to the occupant of the bed. Your heart dropped. Liam.

Liam was asleep in bed, sweating and small.

Cautiously, you crept further into the room. Neither of them stirred, so you took a chair on the opposite side of the bed to Bucky and reached over to pick up Liam's chart from the end of his bed. It didn't say a lot, just the need-to-know for nurse rotation. But you knew those medications enough to know it was bad. Really bad. The emotions caught were too big. You put the chart back; the plastic-hitting-plastic sound it made woke Bucky up. He shot up, chair almost knocked to the ground if it weren't for his reflexes. He looked across the bed at you then, recognition instant. A worried expression took over his face.

"Y/N?"

"He's sick again," you said, your voice sounding far away.

Bucky tracked your gaze to Liam. He nodded. "Yeah… They, ah… It came back… His parents went home to get some sleep. I said I'd stay." When you didn't move, didn't say anything, Bucky grew nervous. He could hardly handle his own reaction, let alone yours too. "They, the hospital, got in touch when he came back in. Said that… I could help. Make him feel… brave, or… I don't know.. It's been a couple weeks, but…"

He couldn't bring himself to say it and you didn't need to hear it.

"I've… I've got to… go…" you said.

When you stood up, you wobbled on the spot and tried to take a step to the door. Bucky was next to you before you even clocked him moving.

"Come on. Don't wanna wake him," Bucky whispered, helping you out of the room gently.

In the corridor, away from the door, you felt the wet hot tears roll down your face. Stupid, you thought to yourself, you should be used to this. It's happened before. The obvious and cruel downside to volunteering in the pediatric ward of a hospital.

Bucky stood in front of you, watching for only a couple seconds before pulling you into a hug. He squeezed you into his chest, your arms curled comfortably between him and you.

"He's talked about you. He'd wanna see you... Come back this afternoon and see him."

You nodded, keeping your eyes shut tightly.

"Okay," you tried, your voice squeaky and small.

"Okay," Bucky repeated, trying to channel the humanity pre-Hydra Bucky showed when Steve's mother passed away. He knew what to say and do then. "You're okay… Go… Go do what ya need to. We'll be here. I've got him," he said.

When he let you go, you felt cold. You wiped your tears, nodded once and looked up at him.

"Go," he prompted, and you nodded again, turning and walking away.

…

"Yeah, I don't know what that is,"

"Finding Nemo?!" Liam repeated, like if he said it louder Bucky was more likely to recognise the title.

You chuckled from the seat next to Bucky's.

"You knew?" he asked.

"Everyone knows just keep swimming, Buck," you told him with a shrug.

"Guess that's another one for the list then," he said, pulling his phone out and adding the film to his ever-growing list of 'to watch'.

Hours could go by like that. You, Liam, and Bucky sitting around, reciting movie quotes to each other. Guessing titles. Laughing at all the gaps in Bucky's pop culture knowledge. Liam loved feeling smarter than an adult, and he completely lost himself in hysterical laughter when Bucky burst out his chair in joy when he finally recognised a film.

"Star Wars!" Bucky had screamed so loud the nurse came in to shush him. "Luke, I am your father!" Bucky whispered at her, grinning ear to ear. Then there was the Harry Potter time. "I got tricked into watching them," Bucky had said, shaking his head. Apparently, during his stay in Wakanda, Shuri had convinced him that Scarlet Witch and those who attended Hogwarts were from the same breed. He should, she said, watch it so he understands Wanda Maximoff better. Shuri would remember Bucky's face forever when he came back from visiting Team Cap.

"My turn," Liam said. He thought for a second. "I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse," he said, his voice forced as deep as his tiny child body would allow.

"Woah! Who let you watch that?!" you said, completely horrified.

"My cousin David," Liam snitched immediately. "The horse head didn't even look real,"

"It didn't," Bucky confirmed, again, happy to identify The Godfather. "Alright, my turn… Ah… Okay. Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

You were as lost as Liam.

"We give up," Liam reported after maybe five seconds of thinking.

"Casablanca?! Come on, guys. It's a classic!" Bucky argued.

"God, you're showing your age," you teased.

"Alright, you do better,"

"Easy," you cleared your throat for dramatic effect, "To infinity and beyond!"

"TOY STORY!" both Liam and Bucky yelled in unison.

Liam then taught Bucky how to act out the "Buzz, will you get up here and give me a hand?" scene, complete with thrown prosthetic.

…

"Theeeeeee… beeeeestest… leaf!"

You and Bucky ran off in opposite directions. The hospital courtyard wasn't exactly bursting at the seams with nature, but it was enough to complete a little scavenger hunt.

On Liam's orders, you returned with the most impressive leaf you could find. Bucky was right behind you. Handing them over, Liam carefully considered them from his bunded up seat in his wheelchair.

"The winner is…" he said, pausing to cough. "Y/N!"

"What?!" Bucky screeched.

"Calm down. It's one-all," you reminded him. His feather was iridescent therefore better than your grey pigeon one.

Bucky grinned at you, ever competitive and ever aiming to make Liam happy. "Alright," he said. "What's next, little man?"

…

"Not today, guys," the nurse replied when you ask if Liam could go for a walk.

"Maybe we'll just read a couple chapters of The Lord of the Rings then, yeah?" you said, turning your suggestion to Bucky.

Bucky nodded solemnly, suddenly and deeply affected by the reminder of Liam's weakening state, of mortality.

Before entering Liam's room, you reached out and touched Bucky's arm. He stopped, looked at you with glossy eyes. You don't wanna see it, think it, but sadness didn't take away from Bucky's beauty.

"You okay?" you asked.

It was a loaded question and almost a rhetorical one. Bucky knew that. He didn't answer, just gave you a weak, lopsided smile.

"You Sam or Frodo today?" he asked, shaking it off and moving again.

…

For the whole time you'd known Bucky, his size had always been so obvious. Sitting beside children, beside Liam, he looked like a giant. Even next to the nurses that came and went he towered. Small hospital chairs. Small plastic cups. Small, sanitised rooms.

So, when you turned the corner and saw Bucky sitting on the floor of the pediatric ward's hallway, looking so fucking small, it stopped you in your tracks. His head was in his hands, and you knew what it meant.

Slowly, step by heavy step, you walked the hallway and came to stand in the doorway of what was once Liam's room. The bed had been stripped of linen, but wasn't yet made ready for the next patient. The charts were gone, and the many tubes and plastic bags of chemicals too. A crushed, empty juice box was on the ground.

Behind you, a nurse cleared her throat.

"Y/N… I'm so sorry… We tried to call ya this morning but-"

"I left my phone at home… I was running late. Locked myself out my apartment. Left half my kit there too. Was late to this fairy party gig I had downtown… Bad day… and-" you were rambling, tears slowly running down your face. The nurse's hand gently cupping your shoulder stopped you.

"S'alright, love… Nothing you could've done. But it's good you're here now. Reckon the Sergeant here might need a little TLC, yeah?"

Nodding, you wiped your tears away on the sleeve of your hoodie. Suddenly, it felt ridiculous to be wearing a pink tutu.

The nurse left you alone with Bucky.

Bucky, who had not moved a single inch since you arrived. Bucky, who looked small. Bucky.

"Let's go," you said, kneeling on the lino floor in front of him. "Think maybe a crying fairy and ah, statue Winter Soldier might confuse the kids… So… let's go."

You thought maybe he wasn't going to reply, but he lifted his head, faced up. Bucky's eyes were rimmed red, but they were dry. He looked haunted. Shaking his head the smallest amount, he told you, "I… I can't… can't leave him…"

"Okay… Okay, yeah. Um…" You looked up and down the hallway, trying to think while your head was drowning in grief. "Alright, um… My van is downstairs, in the lot. Let's just… I don't know, get that far."

Bucky just starred at you. For one… two… three… "Yeah, okay," he agreed, standing.

He didn't say a word as he followed you into the elevator and down to the carpark. People tried to not stare as you walked by.

Arriving at your van, you opened the back and shoved some things out of the way, pulling the small mattress and pillows down from where they were propped up against the side. Turning to face Bucky, you read the confusion in his face.

"Oh, ah… I don't live in it… I just…" There was no point in sugar-coating at that point. "I spend half my time around sick kids, you know? I need somewhere to be when it gets too much. Somewhere to… cry or sleep for an hour or whatever."

Bucky looked from the van to you, gave you a small nod of acknowledgement.

"We can just stay here… for as long as you need…" you offered, feeling embarrassment swell in you, but it quickly gave way to the apathy summoned by abject grief.

If Bucky thought it was weird, he didn't say and you wouldn't have cared. He didn't though. He moved to sit where he could politely unlace his boots and nudge them under the van, then he scooted back onto the mattress, laid down. You crawled in after him, closing the doors behind you.

He'd returned to his state of seeming too big for his surroundings, curled up in the back of your van. When you laid down next to him, he looked over at you. "Thank you," he said, voice croaky.

As tears began to form in his eyes, you had the grace to pretend not to notice. "I think there's a blanket somewhere…" You sat up, looking over a box of costume fairy wings. Before you could locate the blanket, Bucky's arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you into him.

Your back was to his chest, his face buried somewhere between your neck and the pillow.

"I'll keep you warm," Bucky said, "Hold me closer." So, you did, putting your arms over his and threading your fingers between his. You didn't need to be kept warm, but he needed to hold onto something solid, someone living, breathing, real, and there. He needed you.

…

Usually, sleeping in the back of the van was fine. When a super soldier was taking up 80% of the space, however… different story. You lasted forty minutes before snaking your way out, jumping over the front bench seat to sit behind the wheel.

Bucky was definitely dead to the world. You could hear his heavy sleep-induced breathing. But, you couldn't just drive off with him in the back. That would pretty much be kidnapping an Avenger, right? You looked over the seat at Bucky. Waking him up seemed like an equally bad idea, both practically and morally speaking. He was so peaceful.

So, against your better judgement, you got out, grabbed his boots, and jumped back in, putting the key in the ignition and turning.

At every car horn, New York pedestrian, and sharp turn, you glanced over to see if he'd been startled awake. Alas, sleeping beauty. After about fifteen minutes of sitting on your phone when you'd arrived home, parked in the back lot of your apartment complex, you ran out of feeds to refresh. Leaving the car key close to Bucky, where he'd see it, you left him there, figuring he'd probably be able to defend himself if anyone tried to steal the van.

Hours later, close to midnight, you found yourself walking around your place, lost and teary. Pulling your nightgown on, you left your apartment and ventured outside. It was cold. That type of night time chill that only exists when you're at your most sad. Bone freezing. Visible breathing.

There was no reply when you knocked on the back door of the van. Opening it, you were startled by Bucky's upright frame. He was sitting awake, back to the interior wall.

"Buck?"

No reply.

You were a little scared. Unsure of what to do next.

"I… I thought you could use the sleep. We're at my place now…"

Still, nothing.

"Do you want to come inside?"

You chewed your lip for a second, waited, but he remained still. His super soldier body would be fine without food or water for a little while longer, you reasoned. And, he constantly radiated heat.

"I'm apartment 5C. Come up when you're ready."

He didn't look over as you closed the door and retreated back into the safety of your home. There, you cried. Grieved. Tried to sleep. You told yourself you would make him come inside in the morning.

…

The sun rose red over New York City. You'd left your blinds open all night; waking up to natural like was meant to be good for you. Sitting up, you stretched the last remnants of a restless sleep off your heavy body and stepped out of bed.

Maybe Bucky got himself in overnight. Crept in through an unlocked window. Used some sort of superhero technology to unlock the front door. He wasn't on the couch, though, or anywhere in the apartment.

Teeth brushed and coffee brewing, you once again donned the nightgown and headed outside.

At least he's lying down, you thought, opening the van door.

Bucky was back under the blanket. He was awake, the lines under his eyes deep set and sharing space with purple shadows.

"Come on," you said. "You can't stay here. People are gonna come looking for you."

Slowly, Bucky rolled his head to the side to look at you. Previously, he was staring at the van ceiling. "Steve knows," he told you, throwing his phone over. It landed on the blanket with a gentle thud.

You didn't pick it up.

Bucky continued, "Messaged him last night. Phone's dead now,"

"Um… okay… Well, you should still come inside. There's more room,"

"I'm fine."

It wasn't defiance as much as it was apathy. You wanted to say something. Anything. Be reassuring. But to be honest, you were surprised by his grief.

Surely, the Winter Solider knew loss. Surely, he'd mourned and learnt to cope.

No… No, this was different, you told yourself. The first child who passed away when you started working with the hospitals destroyed you. It took a month to even go back to the pediatric ward. Since then, you'd put things into perspective and learnt to process everything a bit better. Not as equipped as the doctors and nurses to do so, but able enough to survive the pain.

The pain. Entirely unique. Something Bucky hadn't felt before.

He really thought he'd felt all the types of bad there was to feel. He really thought he was no longer able to love. Besides Steve. And Sam. Wanda. Nat. Shuri… Okay, so he was kidding himself. Still. It fucking hurt.

…

Around lunch, you took Bucky some food. Around dinner, you found it untouched but replaced it anyway.

It was a Sunday night. In the morning you were expected over at the palliative care centre. Reading aloud to the patients helps.

At 5:30 am, you woke from a fever dream. After shoving the sheets in the apartment building's basement washer, you called the centre.

"Oh, no worries, Y/N," they told you. "Sally's bringin' her new puppy in today. That ought to bring some cheer to the place anyway."

Guilt alleviated only slightly, you trekked to the van.

At least he'd nibbled on dinner at some point.

"Bucky?"

It was dark still, the sun only just waking up. You could make out Bucky's form in amongst your stuff.

"You have to come inside today. I…" Guilt. Maybe a guilt trip would work. "I need my van for work…" It almost sounded like a question. "And, I'm sure you've got things you need to do…" No response. "Superhero stuff?"

A muffled snort, but nothing else.

…

"Any chance you can just leave him there?"

For a second, you thought Steve was joking. The silence at the end of the line said otherwise.

"Ah, I mean, it's been almost two days,"

"I can get a car sent over to you if-"

"No," you interrupted. "That's not it. I'm just… Is this normal?"

Steve sighed. "There's not a normal for us, Y/N. There's just… coping… day by day."

Holding in tears, you nodded to yourself. "Yeah, okay. I, ah, just wanted to check in. See if there's anything I should be doing,"

"I'd wager that you're already doing it… It means something that he's chosen to be near you. He could have run. He does sometimes. So, really, for him, this is… progress. He trusts you."

You're weren't sure what you'd done to deserve that.

"Thanks, Steve,"

"Anytime. Call anytime, Y/N."

When you'd phone Stark Tower looking for help, you didn't really expect to be taken seriously. As it turned out, they were waiting for your call.

…

To your relief, Bucky was sitting up when you opened the van doors around 5 pm. He watched in interest as you awkwardly climbed in, handing him the tray you were carrying so you could settle in next to him.

"Choc chip cookies and tea," you announced, not letting him give the tray back. "And I'm not leaving until you drink your cup and have at least two cookies."

Bucky looked down at the presentation in his lap. "Guess I can't argue with that."

You chewed your cookie slowly, making sure you'd not finish before him.

"Did you make these?"

"Yeah… I bake when I'm… Whatever," you replied.

He nodded, then took another bite.

"You called Steve?"

"How'd-"

Bucky shrugged. "Just figured you would. What'd he say?"

"Um… That you're okay here," you told him.

Bucky didn't reply, instead picked up his mug of tea and held it between his palms. The china softly chinked against his left hand.

You wanted to ask if he was indeed okay, but you weren't sure of what you'd be able to say if he lied. Or told the truth. Or anything in between.

When the tray was empty of food, you climbed out of the van, and half-heartedly asked if he was coming inside.

"I'm fine here," was his equally half-hearted reply.

Together, maybe, you could make a whole person, something functioning and able to cope better than either of you were doing alone.

Back inside your apartment, you ran out of plain flour and dishes to clean. All that was left to do was mourn.

…

It had been three nights and days since you'd arrived home from the hospital. Almost eighty hours of saying goodbye to Liam and telling yourself to be grateful that you knew him, and that you were able to help him laugh and find joy in his final few weeks. Hours of phone calls to friends, family, and your favourite nurses. Hours of standing at your apartment door, ready to march down to the van and pull Bucky out by his boots. Hours of it all.

Like all things though, good or bad, it was waning and you were beginning to see how you could survive.

You were sitting at the kitchen bench, practising your pipe cleaner and pom pom crown-making skills when there was a knock on the door. Glancing at your phone as you stood, you thought it was around dinner time. Probably next door, asking to borrow an egg. Or the old lady from down the hall that always made too much lasagne.

Without checking the peephole, you opened the door with your best polite smile ready.

Bucky.

The sight of him hit you, not like a tidal wave, but a waist-deep wave that knocks you back unexpectedly. You stumbled, had to refocus. Felt a little out of control.

Out of the mess of the back of the van, it was easier to see how utterly fucked he looked. His long hair was ratty, visibly knotted in parts. Expression strung out, he looked like he was in amphetamine withdrawal. His skin was too shiny, and his clothes were crumpled and damp in places.

Bucky went to speak, but the words got caught in his throat. He looked pained, then sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hoodie's arm.

Without any warning, you burst into tears.

Your hands went up to cup your mouth but it was too late. The sobs were heaving up from deep inside you, and Bucky was born with too much empathy to not be affected. Tears began to roll down his face.

And that was it. Any pretence or attempt to be stoic was entirely dissolved. You crumbled into each other.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and you pressed your head hard into his chest, almost pushing against him like you were trying to push the feelings out of yourself.

"I know," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

As his arms tightened around your body, you could feel how it was calming you. It was only a short term relief from the grief, but it was the very least Bucky could think to do. Holding you wasn't going to make anything better, but it made you both feel less alone.

Showers and fuzzy bed socks. Hot cocoa and trashy television. Sleeping close. Waking up together.

From the deep unwanted darkness of grief, something was determined to find a way to grow.

Tag list (open): @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @bubbabarnes

(not sure if you want to be tagged in new fics @animegirlgeeky?) 

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 12 Discovery

Chapter summary: Heather (finally) begins her study of magic, practicing with Aaravos. All the while, she'd discovering more about herself.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11

“Now say; crescere,” Aaravos instructed as his lime green rune made the tiny stem in his mini mountain of dirt grow in his hand, blooming into a fiery orange flower.

Heather glanced at her own pile of soil and sad little stem. “Crescere,” she echoed in a quieter voice than Aaravos. Her stem grew stronger and higher, its leaf rising towards the blue sky. A bubble of joy inflated inside of her as a bud formed and bloomed into a tiny blue flower, no bigger than the pad of her thumb. But then her bubble popped and the blue flower withered, fading to grey. Its leaves crumpled up, and they drifted to the grassy forest floor with the petals.

Heather sighed, her ears drooping. She brushed the dirt off of her hand and looked at her crossed legs.

Aaravos placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Heather. It was only a first try,” he reassured.

Though Heather didn’t find it very reassuring. She felt so bad about the death of a tiny flower; it almost made her feel silly. But inside she felt as if that plant had been part of her, like a child—that thought was repulsive; she hated children. Yet she felt so fond of it.

“Why didn’t it work?” she asked, looking at Aaravos. She had been practising her Draconic with Khonsu diligently, building up her vocabulary and grammar, not to mention how hard she’d been studying the books of the arcana Aaravos had given her, and all the meditation she’d been doing. Heather was so sure it would work, so confident that her work had paid off.

This was why she hated magic. Unlike fighting, it required so much knowledge about so many things she didn’t deem practical, and meditation, and understanding. And even after all that, it didn’t work.

Aaravos glanced at her hands. “If I could have a guess, it’s that you haven’t built up enough magic to hold the spell and project enough into the plant to keep it alive.”

Heather sighed. It was logical at least, but it just made her feel angry that magic was like fighting. She’d thought of them as completely different; one you were born with, the other you worked for. And the more she went into her training, the more incorrect her idea became.

What troubled her was why she disliked magic so much; it had never harmed her, not to mention Khonsu—a battlemage—was her best friend. Yet she always disliked it, thinking it was something mages inherited. Not trained on—simply thinking they were just ‘born lucky’ with an immense skill that just grew as they did, never having to work on it. But as her lessons went on, she realised it was very different. So much work went into studying the language and learning the runes and building up the endurance to use the magic in the way she needed to use it—just like fighting.

Fighting required knowledge of the many forms to fight with many weapons and building up the strength, agility, and endurance to use the forms in the way she needed to use them.

So why did she still dislike magic?

Heather had lay awake the past few nights thinking about it. The only plausible reason she could come up with was that she, for some reason, associated magic with elves—beings who had brought her nothing but misery throughout her life. And she had to get out of that way of thinking because there was dragon magic, often referred to a mimicking—using the elements in what way they needed—fire for light and warmth, water for healing, earth for building and movement, and air for enhanced flying; and all could be used for fighting.

She shook her thoughts away and glanced around at the tall trees and lush undergrowth in the clearing. How much energy had they needed to grow? She could feel their primal energy all around her; a calm current of life that circled her, Aaravos, and Khonsu in this clearing under the pale morning sun.

Heather held her head in her hands, frustrated. Why did this have to be so difficult? She didn’t even want this power, so why should she have to work so hard to make it work.

She flopped onto the ground and huffed. “Why me?” she whispered, looking up at the sun. Its rays beamed warm energy down onto her, as it always had, but now it seemed to be easier to gain—by strengthening her understanding, she had strengthened her connection with one of her original primal sources.

Out of the corner of her eye, Heather saw Khonsu shift guiltily. She pushed herself up, meeting his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Su,” she said, sidling closer to him. “I’m angry at myself, not you.”

Khonsu looked down, his bangs falling forward, blocking her from meeting his eyes. Seeing him like this made her heart ache. She had hurt her closest—and only—friend, and she felt awful.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” Aaravos said, gathering his book and cloak and disappearing into the trees.

Heather placed her hand on his back, assuring him as best as she could. He looked up at her, and she gave him a soft smile.

“I’m sorry all this happened,” he started. “I know you’ve never liked magic, and you probably hate me. And I get it. I’d hate me too.” He sighed. “But I really am sorry.”

She smiled, moving her hand to his shoulder. “I’ve never hated you, Khonsu,” she said. “You’re my best friend and I couldn’t ask for anyone better.” She smiled. “I just hate what’s happening and I wish I could control it or reverse it.”

She looked up. “But I guess now, I understand what it’s like to be a mage and that it really isn’t something you’re just born good at.” She took his hand in hers, wrapped her five fingers around his four. “Just please don’t tell anyone I’m bad at it,” she whispered, looking away sheepishly.

Khonsu smiled and chuckled quietly. “Sure, I’ll keep it to myself.”

*-*-*-*

Heather’s ears dropped, and a scowl formed on her face. “Why won’t anyone realise that she just got lucky?” she muttered angrily. Up ahead—far ahead—with all the soldiers, Dragonguard and not, was Rayla, chatting and joking away as if she had been among them all for years; which she hadn’t.

Réalta snorted angrily, shaking his head and folding back his glowing orange ears as Heather’s raging emotion flowed through him.

After all her training and fighting and proving herself worthy of being a Dragonguard, someone who happened to get lucky, with her top skill of hesitation, was sliding right into her spot—which Heather had earned!—and acting like she was worthy of wearing their sash. Heather had tried looking past her history with Rayla—she really had—and mostly, she succeeded. But Rayla hadn’t even taken the Dragonguard test, or trained as a soldier, or anything! Now she was angry at her for how easy it was for her to get on the most elite team in all of Zubeia’s army.

Heather grumbled and bundled her hand into a fist. She hated this! The ‘getting lucky’ part especially.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Aaravos glance at Khonsu in a way she didn’t like. “What is it, Sparkles?” she hissed, straightening up.

Aaravos rode forward beside her on his primal stead—who had re-joined with him shortly after he was free from Stella Carcerem. “I thought you said you were done with your rivalry with Rayla,” he said. She could see the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.

“You will not corrupt me, Sparkles,” she said, keeping a proud stance. Though she was thinking back to all she had shared with him, wondering if he had already planted his seeds of corruption. “Besides, it wasn’t a rivalry, it was a grudge,” she corrected, calming herself, though she really wanted to go over there and shove Rayla out of the group.

“Still, I thought you were done with it.”

“I’m done with the grudge—though I haven’t forgiven her, she has my respect—” she watched as Rayla laughed wildly at one of Haco’s jokes. She leaned forward and drooped her ears with a scowl “—for now.”

“Jealous, I see,” Aaravos observed.

Heather sat up again. She would not tell him he was right; she knew she was jealous, and she was alright with it. “So? She got lucky. She didn’t even kill the Dark Mage; I’ve killed six—”

“Eight, if Tiadrin and Lain hadn’t finished off the other two,” Khonsu interjected.

Heather nodded, surprised a little by his defence—but that was what he was like, loyal and caring and quiet.

Aaravos glanced aside. “Remind me not to get you angry or to make an enemy of you.”

“Good idea,” Khonsu commented.

Heather chuckled. “Do you think she’ll get caught out?” she asked, gesturing her head to Rayla.

“With her parents training her?” Khonsu mused. “I don’t think so; they were assassins turned Dragonguards, they’ll have a good idea how to train her.”

“If she can stop hesitating,” Aaravos mused.”

Heather nodded. “Nice to know you guys see it too.” She rummaged through Réalta’s saddlebag, pulling out her notebook and opening on the page that had My Traits scribbled at the top. She read over what she had already written; Likes to be in control; focused; frustrated easily; conservative. She pulled out her piece of lead sandwiched by two thin pieces of wood and wrote, proud, at the end of the list.

Heather glanced up at the group of soldiers ahead of them and added, respectful when proven honourable. She read over the list again and closed the book. She was one step closer to getting out of this never-ending maze of self-discovering.

[queerchoicesblog]

Home Is Where Your Heart Is

Folks, here’s the final update of the wlw story set in the Sixties, my third  miniseries of the wlw writing project. I just thought this was the right ending for this story...for once.

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

New wlw miniseries will be posted once I gather enough inspiration and manage to write properly!

Previous Chapters: Living The Dream, The Girl Next Door, New Beginnings

___________________________

Two years after that day, I am flying all the way across the Atlantic, destination Paris. This time though I am not serving champagne and assisting the passengers. This time I am a passenger. It's my first time back 'on the other side' since I joined the Pan Am Airways...and it's the first time on a plane for Kelsey, sitting by my side. I let her have the window seat so that she could admire the ocean of clouds beneath us. She looked like a kid in a candy shop, sitting happily in her seat as the other passengers kept flowing in the main aisle. She even hushed me when my colleague was going through the cheerful welcoming speech, explaining the route and the safety measures. I shook my head and smiled at her enthusiasm. Then when the plane finally entered the takeoff runaway, I leaned closer and whispered to brace herself because we would need high speed to lift. She nodded and instinctively searched for my hand inhaling sharply as if she was the pilot in charge of the procedure. I took her hand into mine just as the engines started rumbling and I will never forget the look of purest amazement on Kelsey's face when we lifted from the ground and the airport buildings became smaller and smaller beneath us.

Of course I called her back. We met at Central Park a couple of weeks after our little chat. The sky was gloomy and chilly gusts of wind reminded us Spring is a whimsical season but I stopped caring about it the moment Kelsey waved at me. She was waiting on a bench holding herself in a plaid coat. It's silly but I remember every single detail and word we said that day. I asked her about her last exam and gave her a little gift I bought her during my last trip, reminiscing our conversation at the airport cafe. She wasn't expecting anything of that sort and gaped at the teddybear in beefeater uniform. I told her the clerk kindly reassured me that Archie, short for Archibald, was in perfect health conditions so he didn't need to be admitted to the toy hospital: she could keep it, he would make good guard of her. She chuckled and threw her arms around my neck, just like that, without thinking. I hugged her back and inhaled her perfume: it was sweet, vanilla maybe? When we parted, she insisted to get me a hot cocoa in return, "at the very least". So we ended up in a cozy little cafe she knew a few streets away. A good friend of her had worked there for a while before landing another job in a hotel, she told me: she offered to replace her but she had little luck and ended up at the airport. I found myself thinking that such shift wasn't so unlucky after all: had she got the job here, we would have never met, maybe. I hardly go downtown when I'm home, I mainly spend time with former colleagues or pay a visit to Nancy or my parents, whenever I can. How could have we met if she hadn't worked at the airport too? I didn't say it out loud though, I didn't want to be too blunt or -worse- make it all about me. She knew quite a few things about me already while I knew so little about her. We talked for hours, till the lamp lights gleamed in the streets, brightening the darkness now gently embracing the city. Kelsey told me more about her childhood in Michigan all cold mountains and icy lakes to skate on...it suddenly made sense that she wasn't bothered in the least by New York chill! How one day her hometown felt too small to contain her dreams so she moved to the big city, guest of an older brother who wasn't sent off to war. She enrolled to the nurse school and didn't waste time looking for a job. Even if juggling school and work was hard, it was what she wanted. And she felt like she was making her Nana proud. I liked hearing her talking of that woman who must have had a great influence on her or her roommates who held the wildest parties in the weekend despite their flat being anything but big enough to have room for all the friends and acquaintances they always managed to gather. It was a miracle that they hadn't had trouble with the neighbors so far... I couldn't help but notice that she quickly dismissed her parents and the sisters still living in Michigan. I wonder now if it has anything to do with the hint of sadness at the corner of Kelsey's eyes: as far as I know they didn't attend her graduation, months later, only her brother. He's in a Polaroid picture with the two of us pinned to the fridge: wearing his best suit and half hugging Kelsey, standing in the centre in her graduate gown and holding the gorgeous bouquet he gave her. We all smile at the camera...I'm sure Kelsey cherishes that picture as the brightest memory of her special day. Well, maybe one of the brightest memories of her special day. She held a little party in the evening to celebrate with her friends and roommates. His brother joined too and gallantly kept me company when I had no one to talk to. He reminded me of my Noah: he would have liked this party. Maybe he would have tried to impress the ladies with some smooth dance move and pouted at me if he failed...I suddenly realised that I could only hope he would still have legs to dance and walk when we meet again. If we meet again. I did my best to shake away such thoughts for the sake of the guest of honor, our graduate. I had a great time, despite the occasional nostalgia: we laughed, danced and drank cheap champagne, sloshing it over the rim as we cheered to the "new best nurse in town". Sadly, I couldn't stay as long as I wanted: I had to leave early in the morning, duty called. I left when the party was still in full swing after calling a cab. My steps echoed in the empty ground floor hall as I headed to the door, fixing my hair. The silence was abruptly broken a moment later by the sound of a familiar voice. "Sadie, wait!" I turned. Kelsey approached, panting as if she had run all the way down the stairs. Knowing her, she surely did. "Hey, nurse, wrong floor, the party is up there. Well, last time I checked" I joked while she caught her breath. My tease made her laugh. "Yeah I know...about that" she said, scratching the back of her neck. "Thank you for coming, I-I know you're always so busy and I truly appreciated you making time for me. It means a lot to me having you here today" She went quiet for a moment, breaking eye contact and looking at the tip of her shoes. I open my mouth to speak just when she met my gaze again with a deep sigh and a deep crimson spreading over her cheeks. "You mean a lot to me" Before she could think twice, she gently ran her hands up my arms and leaned closer. I tasted the cheap wine on her lips when they touched mine and smiled against her mouth as I returned the kiss. A sparkle of electricity ran through my spine as I pulled her close and her hands found my neck. Too soon a car honk outside broke the spell and we parted. "I'm afraid that's my cue and your guests are surely waiting too" I sighed and made to go but she stopped me. "Hold on" she giggled and ran a thumb underneath my bottom lip. "There, lipstick fixed, you can go now. If you have to, that is" We smiled to each other as I opened the front door. Before going my way, I gestured to the taxi driver and turned towards her. "You sure you're not drunk though?" Kelsey blushed and hugged herself. "What? No! I mean, maybe I'm a bit tipsy but..." she glanced over her shoulder to check if someone joined us and dropped her voice. "...But I meant it. I've wanted to do this for so long" I did my best not to blush myself and run into her arms once again. "Fine but...you owe me a sober one when I'm back. Just to make sure, you know" I winked, flashing her a smile. "Goodnight, nurse". That was the first of many kisses and many dates. Soon she found a job at the John Hopkins Hospital so meeting up was not always easy but now I all wanted when I had my time off between flights was to spend it with her. Talk to her over the phone whenever it wasn't possible. I held back a little at first: I didn't want to fall head first just like the other time just to be abandoned when I was no longer needed. Nor to be accidentally outed: I wasn't sure how my boss would take that. I explained it to Kelsey one night after much consideration: my voice surely shook as I spoke because I was dead scared that she would have changed her mind immediately after hearing my confession. I was wrong: there was no need to rush things, she said. She wasn't exactly out too and - she added with a soft chuckle- after all, she always knew that dating a Pan Am stewardess wouldn't be exactly easy. It wasn't easy, she was right. But she made it worth it. She won my heart with gentleness and sweetness, and I like to think I made her fall in love with me in a similar manner but only she can confirm it. Kelsey was extremely romantic, more than I first suspected. Unless she was terribly late, she would never leave for work without pinning a gracious note to the fridge if I was still sleeping, and she baked decadent heart-shaped chocolate cakes for my birthdays. When we went skating at Central Park around Christmas, with the excuse to help me balance, she wrapped an arm around my waist the whole time. For our first anniversary, we opted for a dinner at my place. I bought a bottle of champagne and a rose on my way back from the airport: when I handed the chas to the cashier, the heart was pounding in my chest in excitement...I felt like the main character of a romantic movie. Kelsey was a vision in the floral dress she bought for the occasion. When after dinner, we put on a soft record and slow danced barefoot in the living room, all the miles I had left behind to be there that day vanished from my mind. All I could think of was the woman in my arms, the scent on her skin, the comforting warmth radiating from her body when I spooned her at night. Her contagious laughter, those emerald eyes I would have never forgotten. It took me a moment to process she was whispering some Beatles lines into my ear. Oh please, say to me You'll let me be your man And please, say to me You'll let me hold your hand Now, let me hold your hand And when I touch you I feel happy inside It's such a feelin' that my love I can't hide That's when I...cried. I hid my head in the crook of her neck and cried all the tears of joy I think I would have never shed. They kept flowing, I couldn't stop. Poor Kelsey got all concerned and mortified, fearing she had ruined our night. When I could finally speak again, I cupped her face and brushed away a loose strand of hair. Smiling through the tears, I stroke her cheek and told her not to be silly. I'm sure the kiss I pressed on her lips after dropping the l word put her mind at ease. Since that day I am one of the most envied members of my crew. My colleagues always asks of my mysterious lover who puts such a big smile on my face and pamper me with the best anniversaries and sweet surprises. I don't share the full details with them and I'm amused to hear their theories concerning this or that passenger. I soon started realising what others found out sooner then I did: how badly I missed -and I still do miss - Kelsey when I'm away. I love travelling and all the perks my job has, but now a five days land off in a dream destination also meant five days, possibly a week without seeing my love. One day a pilot I befriended gave me his old Polaroid camera as a belated gift and I started taking pictures to show her once we were reunited. Old cathedrals, breathtaking tropical beaches, views of European streets or Japanese gardens....everything that would catch my eye. We make albums of them and they're all piled up in the living room library side by side with Kelsey's medicine books. Now a picture of us relaxing in the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower lays there too. When my feelings for my sweet nurse became stronger and stronger and she started spending most of the week at my place, I decided to ask her to move in with me. And to make a phone call. I wasn't sure what my parents would say so I called Nancy instead. I needed to call her anyway and I told her. The truth, at last. I caught my breath for the whole time she took a long pause before speaking again. "Are you happy now, Sadie? I always thought you deserved happiness, that kind of happiness but never figured out why it seemed so hard for you...are you now with this girl?" No trace of judgement or mockery. If my confession made her somehow uncomfortable, she didn't show. On the contrary, she asked if we could all have lunch together when they would visit New York the next month: Fred would be busy with business meetings for the most time but maybe we could have lunch downtown: she, little Cathy, Kelsey and I. And so we did. Kelsey was awfully nervous about the meeting even if she was curious to get to know my best friend. She soon discovered she had no need to be so tensed: Nancy flashed her one of her brightest smile and pulled her into a hug as if they were old friends already. Little Cathy was a bit shier and politely shook her hand before hiding behind me. She loosened up during the meal though: by the end, Cathy even offered to share some of her fries and surprisingly picked her to walk her to the desserts display. I asked the two of them to bring back something for us too and Cathy nodded before offering her hand to Kelsey. When they was out of earshot, Nancy took the old conspiratorial look I remembered from our high school days. "Someone's blushing" I chuckled but before I could say something she argued that she had so much time to make up to. And my companion seemed awfully nice. "As mom used to say, a health professional is always useful in a family" she added absentmindedly, playing with a stray. "Now we're family, huh?" "Hush, best friends are basically sisters and sisters are family" she shrugged. "And even Cathy likes her as far as I can tell. Oh, here they come and full of sugar!" As the two of them slided back into the booth and handed out our desserts, Nancy spoke again. "Kelsey, I was just telling Sadie that you should come visit one day" she suggested, throwing me a smile before addressing my love again. "Fred couldn't make it today but you can stay at our place and we can show you around. It'll be fun, especially if you've never been to Florida. What about Thanksgiving? If you have time and no previous arrangement that is" Kelsey froze with her fork still at mid-air searching my gaze. Her cheeks turned a little pink. "That would be-" I started but Nancy was quicker than me. "Take your time, just think about it. We don't need an answer now but we will be so happy to have auntie Sadie and Kelsey whenever it suits you, right, honey?" As she put an arm around Cathy's shoulder, her little girl nodded enthusiastcally and flashed us a chocolatey smile. Nancy, the gleeful avalanche. That eventually hosted the two of us during the winter holidays since Thanksgiving didn't work out. They took us on a Christmas lights tour and treated us like the most renewed guests. Fred kept a bit to himself as usual: I don't know what Nancy told him but he was friendly to both of us. We spent a whole afternoon babysitting my "niece" as her parents went buying the finishing touches for the grand dinner. We baked gingerbread men and Cathy was all smiles and cute contagious laughters. Covered with flour and ginger but happy. The few days we spent in Florida were so different from the life I dreamed and I'm used to, on and off airplanes, surfing the clouds and being one of the "feminine icons of the decade" as a magazine claimed". Yet they kindled something inside me: I will never regret my choice of becoming a stewardess but Nancy was right when she called it "a strategic retreat", among many other more appealing things. I remembered the question Kelsey asked me when we first met about being always elsewhere...sure, travelling around satiate my curiosity to see the world, meet new people but it was also a way to run away from what I thought I could never had: a place in the world, a place to call my own where I could feel loved and myself. All it took was a fortuitous meeting at JFK airport. All it took was a brilliant girl from Michigan. Now, little girls still ask me for pictures when I walk out of the Pan Am gate and tell me I'm the woman they want to be one day. But I don't bask in that glory as I used to when I started. When the vessel touches the ground again, I know that the best time of my day is approaching. Just an hour away. My heart bursts in sweet excitement for when I open the door of my apartment, hang my bowler hat to the coat hanger and smell the coffee brewing in the kitchen. I'll smile, hearing familiar steps approaching from the bedroom, and say my favourite refrain: "Kelsey, love, I'm home".

[saladejin]

Paprika | Hoseok

Hoseok x Reader | office worker au | Fluff, slight crack, resolved angst 

Summary:  You believe there is nothing left to gain from life, but little do you know a certain someone with his signature blinding smile can change that. 

Warnings: Implication of suicidal thoughts 

Word Count: 5.4k 

*Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

~ 

You were sure you weren’t boring. It wasn’t you at all, not in the slightest.

The unified tapping of tired fingers against keyboards. The gentle hum of the air conditioner in the silent distance. The drone of a man’s voice as he proposed a new, yet old idea. The empty seat across from your desk, as lonely as your stone heart.

These were the boring things. It wasn’t you, not in the slightest.

That’s what you would tell yourself each and every day. You liked what you did, that much was true of course, but there didn’t seem to be words for what you felt these days.

You thought, but the only word that came to mind…was dry.

Yes, this was dry. As dry as the broiling Sahara, and perhaps even as dry as your poor overcooked chicken at last night’s dinner. You needed spice, and you needed it soon if you were planning to keep yourself going in this forsaken office. Inch by inch, the walls were closing in. They slid towards you further each day, and it left you fearing you wouldn't make it out to see the other side. Things wouldn’t have even been this bad if your friends had decided to stick around with you, but they had let themselves dry out and wither away too.

What can I do? What could possibly be the pinch of paprika needed for this disaster of a life-dish?

It seemed your negativity demon truly knew no bounds, but back then how could you possibly know? How could you know for sure that you wouldn’t have to wait much longer for that sweet reprieve you longed for? It was only because he finally came, and he burst into your life like the long-awaited beam of sunlight after the storm.

Somehow, the entire lid of paprika was loosened and all of its powdery contents were dumped inside.

There was the tapping of fingers on keyboards. Wisps of your hair being gently blown to and fro by your small desk fan. The woeful silence of the broken air conditioner…and the sunrise sitting in the seat across from you.

You were intrigued to say the least, but he never noticed or responded in a way that would indicate he felt similarly. You were glad, because that meant you could get away with so much more and, in turn, avoid awkwardly initiated questions that usually came with undignified staring.

Jung Hoseok had chocolate brown hair that was styled to a wavy perfection. His elegant features and dazzling smile eventually made themselves known as the hours passed, and you were surprised you hadn’t noticed his beauty right from the very beginning. This was only his first day in the office, but he had already captured your attention like a moth getting carelessly lured into a flame.

You could allow yourself this gentle curiosity. The dullness of your life could seemingly never be enlightened, but you could at least allow your interest to mull over this one for a while.

Maybe, it was because he was the next ‘fresh meat’. A bright and energetic mind just waiting to be broken and worn down as the actualities of life came crashing in. He reminded you of yourself when you first entered the working world. Ready for anything, as long as you had a steaming cup of coffee right by your side.

Jung Hoseok was a tragedy waiting to happen.

~

You watched as the young man arrived every day for the following week. His white office shirt crisply ironed into a pale sheet, and his tie straightened until it had a fibre-memory of its own. He was the embodiment of perfection, an ideal every CEO saw in their best workers.

Oh, how that will change.

You stopped your fingers from jerking across the keyboard as you sighed. You always swore you weren’t depressed, but all these thoughts had you second guessing that notion.

No, I’m just realistic.

You used one hand to sweep back your hair, fighting back the weariness that threatened to cloud your mind at any given moment. How many times would your eyes waver this time around? You had counted five so far, but you literally could not care less. You didn’t give a shit if he could feel your burning gaze against his skin, because you had given up giving a shit about most things. You were an observer, and you enjoyed picking out different aspects of people if they were mildly interesting to you.

In Hoseok’s case, he was the only one you even considered ‘interesting’ out of your entire array of colleagues at this point, and that was literally because everyone else had already received their reality-check in one way or another. He was like a curious child, hanging onto every little thing his peers said even if it wasn’t all that deep. But even if you did have those thoughts of ‘curious child’, you could never say the same for the physical aspect.

 Because damn, he’s so attractive it almost hurts.

 Your eyes glanced forwards to see the young man sifting through a pile of papers on his desk. His warm amber eyes shone with determination and a sparkling energy you could only imagine at this point. Had you really once had this…this look? This look of hope?

You squinted your eyes at the light in front of you, only to realise it was because he was smiling in your direction. It was a soft, slightly concerned, but genuine smile. You tore your gaze away in a sudden flush, clearing your throat and inwardly scolding yourself for letting your attentions linger for too long. Maybe there was one thing you gave a shit about.

“Sorry sunbae, was there something you wanted to say?”

His voice was deep and resonate, but held a playful twinge buried deep underneath its professionalism. You wondered why you hadn’t noticed sooner.

“Oh, no it’s nothing at all,” you began, but trailed off with a sigh. You didn’t miss how he cocked one eyebrow lightly before his gaze brightened with a newfound interest. You felt the small tendrils of dignity you had snap. There was literally nothing of reputational value to lose here.

“Actually, I’m going to be straight with you. I’m incredibly bored… and since you’re the talk of the town right now, I’m just a little curious.”

He widened his eyes a fraction before leaning forwards in his seat slowly. You watched expressions of surprise flit across his face before he finally settled on his signature smile once again. This one was different though, and you discovered his laugh was just as blinding and devastating as the rest of him. You decided to return his grin with a tiny smirk, and continued with your head resting gently in your opened hands.

“Who are you? Where did you come from, and why did you come here? Also, how do you like your eggs cooked in the morning?”

You threw in the last one as a joke to test the waters, but he brightened even further. You didn’t know if that was even possible, yet you knew you’d probably like to see more of it.

“Wow! This is quite something. Um, I’m Jung Hoseok, aged twenty four. I’ll say I’m from Gwangju, and as for why I’m here…” 

He looked around before mimicking your posed head and hands.

“It was the best opportunity I was offered!”

Damn, this guy is so fresh into it, it almost hurts.

"Also, sunny-side-up," he added with his smile slanting into a playful smirk. You were still too hung on his previous exclamation to continue your childlike flirting.

“I hate to burst your bubble bud, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” you snorted sardonically, keeping a smile so he wouldn’t become too crestfallen at such a turnaround. It wasn’t your fault you were a little cynical, years of experience can do that to you.

“Well, how about you?” he asked after a moment of tension riddled silence, “What’s your story?”

“I’m (L/n) (Y/n). And for everything else, that’s for me to know, and for you to probably avoid finding out. Everyone around here will likely call me a cold-hearted bitch, but it’s just that I choose who to trust. Sorry you have someone like me sitting across from you.”

He gave a small shake of his brunette head. “I’ll be straight with you too. You seem fairly negative in mindset, but I don’t think you’re cold-hearted. I mean, you went out of your way to talk to me?”

You fought the urge to scoff again. “It’s nothing personal, honestly. People like you intrigue me.”

You were done skirting the point. It wasn’t like you were going to put on a mask and come across as the perfect peer and mentor. A mentor who was all bubbles and smiles, ready to hold his hand through every little project that came up. He should learn early that he’ll be on his own for basically everything, just like you had.

“People like me?”

His paperwork had been forgotten. Your coffee cup was depressingly empty.

You took a breath before saying, “Hopeful. Full of lasting inspiration, where does it come from?”

You only realised then how all the sounds circling the office had faded away into nothing. The bustle continued, but you and Hoseok were in your own little world over in the corner. The corner where your work desks remained stationed a fair way from everyone else, which proved to be convenient in the end.

“I know you’re realistic and all, and believe it or not I do know where the line is drawn regarding office jobs and motivation. But I think your mindset may be a little off.” Hoseok’s tone didn’t even change as he made the observation, and you could only raise your eyebrows in genuine surprise. Was he really willing to take the reins of this conversation and lead it down this track?

“I think I would like to try and change that,” he finished, glancing down once more to start organising his papers.

You were left in actual shock, running through his words for longer than necessary just to try and understand their meaning. This seemed like the literal definition of ‘impossible’.

“And how do you intend to do that?”

“I don’t know, yet.”

“I can see you’re a man of much forethought.”

“It doesn’t matter how, but it will happen. This hope you speak of? Soon you will know it for yourself.”

You positively balked, not realising how shaken you actually looked to anyone else who cared to glance over. You had leaned back, letting the chair sway from side to side as you lost yourself to absolute wonderment.

“I'd be lying if I said I wasn't entertained. I'll hold you to this, Hoseok-ssi.”

“Of course, sunbae.”

So that was how you came to flutter to life once more, even if it was only gradually. Nothing happened for the first few days after his pledge, and you only fell deeper into a confused state because you kept expecting the young man to try and cheer you up somehow. You prepared yourself as if you were heading out into battle on the front lines. You felt ready to deal with anything this unusual person threw at you, but nothing came.

You arrived at work just as you always had, a steeled mentality fixed into place so you wouldn’t be deterred. You were actually grateful in a way, because now Hoseok had made things interesting. Now, at least you were expecting something from the day ahead. It didn’t matter in what way, shape or form it appeared, It was something that piqued your curiosity so aggressively that you even kept yourself awake at night just thinking about it sometimes.

After about a week you gave up.

You felt disappointed that your momentary lapse of light had suddenly been devoured by shadows once more, but you knew everything was just the same as it had always been. Hoseok worked across from you, but you only shared a few words a day since both of your schedules caused either one of you to be absent more often than not. You were on your own again, and you knew that’s how it always would be.

Maybe you were depressed. Tonight you would keep yourself awake for a different reason, because now you just felt like escaping it all. What did the future hold in store for you? Seemingly nothing, but you had already trudged through for years and years. Could you really give it all up?

~

“(L/n)-ssi I trust you'll have the recent paperwork done by noon?” your boss questioned from the open office door a few metres away, but you knew it was more like an order. You felt the prickles of disbelief crawling over your shoulders as you thought about the sheer workload he was referring to.

“By noon? Sir-”

“Thank you (Y/n)-ssi.”

You swallowed down the lump rising in your throat and fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. You could deal with this, you just needed to grit your teeth and push through until everything was done.

You took a deep breath and filtered through the files on your computer, eventually opening up your emails to see what else your boss had in store for you. You downloaded the attached link, but furrowed your brows when there were only a couple of pages on display. Usually when you got sent new paperwork, there would be a whole lot more than this.

“Um…Sir?” You gulped when he finally allowed you to enter his office. “I think there’s a problem. The email you sent doesn’t seem to have everything.”

He let out a hum of acknowledgement before turning in his seat to double check the mentioned email, only to flash a tight smile back in your direction.

“No, this is correct. It’s different from your usual load because it’s been split with other staff.”

“Oh, but this always happens. They never end up getting it done. Boss, you may as well send me the entire thing like usual,” you protested calmly, thinking back to the last time you’d trusted those useless employees with your paperwork. Everything had come a complete circle and you’d ended up finishing the whole thing anyway. Not that anyone really took a whole lot of notice.

“Yes, well usually I would…”

You cocked your head in slight annoyance. Why was he stalling? He should just send it through!

“But that half has already been finished and sorted out.”

Your eyes widened into saucers.

“No way…”

“Amazing really, that new kid. I was surprised he managed it so quickly.”

Hoseok.

“Thank you, Sir, sorry for the trouble. I will have the rest done by noon.” You bowed, backing away as if you were as weightless as a feather. You weren’t lightheaded, but you were sure you were getting there with the way your footsteps fumbled.

Oh, dear Hoseok.

You sheepishly made your way back to your desk, burning holes into the chocolate brown head of your desk-mate as you sat down slowly. He didn’t even look troubled or tired over the work he’d taken on. Wait, the fact that he already had it done was amazing on its own!

“Sunbae, are you okay?”

I can’t even remember the last time someone asked me that.

“H-Hoseok, how did you manage it all? So quickly…” You wrung your hands together underneath the desk, not feeling sure on how to go about the situation. You were so shocked that you must have looked like you were going through an existential crisis.

“Ah, that." He hummed brightly. "Well, I was really surprised to hear that you usually did all of it by yourself. I don’t think you should have that entire workload when there are plenty of other people around to help you.”

Help?

“I, well, I don’t have any authority here to tell people what to do,” Hoseok chuckled, running one hand through his hair so slowly that your breathing hitched at the sight of his perfectly smooth complexion.

“So, I just asked to take some of it off your hands. If I did have a little command, I would’ve ordered those lumps to actually get off their asses and do something for once.”

You couldn’t help but snort at that, eventually letting one singular laugh burst from your lips. It had been so long since your chest had felt so clear and unburdened, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You looked up again to see Hoseok’s jaw dropped slightly as his gaze lingered over you. You thought it was so cute how his hair was a little ragged now that he’d mussed it all up, but right now he looked as though he’d seen some kind of ghost.

“It was still so quickly, are you sure you’re okay with how much time that would’ve taken up?” you fussed while still smiling in pure relief. You couldn’t recall the last time someone had supported you in such a way. Sure, you had your distant family and a few friends before they’d decided to leave, but things had been so stale for such a long time that you’d clean forgotten the feeling. An expert on appearing completely fine to everyone around you, obviously.

“Sunbae I’m sure. Please, ask me to do things for you. I’m here to work, but you have to let me help you in order for me to do that. Don’t shoulder everything by yourself, please.” He smiled again, and you saw his hand twitch before he clasped it into a fist and brought it towards himself as if to keep it in check.

“Also, please smile more.”

You raised your eyebrows, realising that you had fallen back to your usual demeanour as you considered his words over and over again. He was offering you help; a word that had felt more like a foreign language on your tongue as time had drawled on.

“Why?” you asked almost subconsciously, focusing on breathing so no unwanted emotions would slip past your barriers and make themselves visible to anyone around you.

“You’re beautiful. Don’t you know that?” He smirked and shuffled in closer to his desk, apparently not needing a reply.

Your heartbeats were erratic at this point, and you were kind of scared he would notice somehow. How could he just drop a comment like that and expect you to ignore it? You felt heat crawl up your neck as you tucked one strand of hair behind your ear shyly.

What the fuck, since when were you shy (Y/n)? Get your shit together.

You solely blamed it on the fact that you were not used to being complimented at all, ever.

“Why do you look so shocked? Scared even?” Hoseok queried softly without looking away from his screen. You could tell he was also a bit surprised at his own confessional compliment, but of course he could manage to brush it off with that unbothered nature of his.

“I’m sorry, no-one’s really ever said that to me.” You found yourself smiling, forever surprised at yourself for even going through with his suggestion to wear the look more often.

“Seriously? Well there’s another thing I need to change.” He glanced at you again before typing something rapidly into his document, dark eyebrows kitting together as if he was annoyed for some reason. You were just astounded.

“You’ve already done enough, Hoseok-ssi.” You sighed, scrolling through your greatly minimalised workload with a strange happiness swirling around your heart. You could get this done so quickly. A massive weight had been lifted from your shoulders, and you really didn’t know how to act or feel because of it.

~

The days continued, but you struggled to let your routine change from its never-ending cycle. You experimentally asked Hoseok to do small jobs in the beginning, because you were so used to overlooking everything that you couldn’t really let it go for the first few weeks. Now that you knew his intentions, the man himself never went out of his way to ask your boss for the work because it seemed like he wanted to let you trust him. No matter how long it took, Hoseok wanted you to see him as someone reliable, someone to lean on.

You were grateful. You were so grateful for everything he had done for you, grateful for just everything he was. You didn’t think you would ever find out where he got his endless energy from, but one day you found yourself believing his fateful words.

“This hope you speak of? Soon you will know it for yourself.”

Perhaps the feeling was infectious, and you’d just caught his disease.

“Is this what a break feels like?” you joked, causing the brunette walking next to you to roll his eyes dramatically.

“The fact that there’s a possibility you’re not lying is just saddening.” He sucked in air through his teeth sharply while you nodded. Like the gentleman he was, he held the door to the kitchen area open for you to follow him through.

“So this is where all the slackers go,” you mumbled, catching onto the lingering gazes of a few workers as they gossiped and loitered in the area.

“I’m guessing. Haven’t been here long enough to know,” Hoseok’s playful rumble sounded right behind you, and you realised with a start that you’d stopped right in the doorway. The feeling of being so close to the man who had brought you the most happiness in years was wonderful.

“Shall we get you some more coffee?” He gestured with one arm, ignoring your sudden jump of surprise and letting an easy-going grin settle onto his dazzling features.

“Aren't you getting anything?” You raised an eyebrow as you made your way over to the machine. You only really made it here during the morning usually. There was never enough time to visit more than once a day, but things were starting to take a pleasant turn.

“Nah, I don’t have much caffeine a day, unless I need it.”

You then narrowed your eyes pointedly at him, snatching a cup from the shelf and showing no mercy in the action.

“Curse you and your energy.”

~

When your curse ended up turning into a reality of sorts, you immediately wanted to take it back. Months had passed, and you had grown so fond of Hoseok that you thought your heart would melt into a puddle every time his pearly whites would flash in your direction. Even if it wasn’t in your direction, you still felt the happiness flood through your being unrestrained.

Since you were reserved in nature, you never really told him of your affections. Your coffee cup hadn’t been empty for days. It seemed that whenever you left your desk for a meeting or toilet break it would refill itself magically, but you knew better. When you questioned him, you had only received a cheeky smirk in return, so you told yourself it would be best if you didn’t question it again.

You just hoped he would see just how much of a positive influence he had been on your hopeless life, but you had no idea the opposite would soon start to happen. You had caught his happy bug, but unfortunately it seemed he had also been infected with yours.

One Monday after a lingering weekend, you finally caught a whiff of the pending downward spiral.

“This is terrible.”

Your eyes flickered up as you witnessed the young man click his tongue and sigh deeply with fiery frustration. His shirt was a little wrinkled, and you stifled a harsh intake of breath when you saw his tie loosened slightly. He was seriously too good looking for his own good sometimes, but you pursed your lips when you realised you liked the sunny view of his smile much better than this frown he adorned.

His smile was what had forced you to fall so deeply in love with him.

“No, please forward them all to me. I know this isn’t getting done so I’ll have to look at them myself, thank you.” He hung up the phone with a loud clatter, running his hands through his hair roughly as if he almost couldn’t contain himself. The wavy chocolate perfection had fallen into a rugged mess, and it wasn’t as if you were complaining at all, but you knew something was going horribly wrong.

No…

You repeated his words again in your mind. “I’ll do it myself”.

No, no no no…

Fear lit up inside you like a wildfire, and your skin prickled with the ugly feeling as your lips opened to desperately stop whatever was happening.

“Hoseok-ah what are you doing?”

“Sunbae, please not now. I have to concentrate on this if it’s gonna meet the deadline,” he grunted, sharply focused eyes never leaving the screen in front of him.

Sunbae? He’s really gone back to calling me that all of a sudden?

The worry was clawing at your throat, and you felt an icy cold dread swallowing you whole. He was following in your footsteps. You knew exactly where this was leading, and when you said the young man reminded you of yourself, you didn’t think he would remain true to that example up until this point.

Anyone else would overlook this simple occurrence. It was nothing deep, just a man who was annoyed with the incompetence of his co-workers like usual. People saw this everywhere, but to you it held a very different meaning. To you, it was like watching the light of your life being painfully dragged into the inky black shadows you had once made your home in.

No matter how badly you wanted to push the issue, you just couldn’t. You trusted him too much to lose faith that quickly, and you hoped he would stay by your side as his glorious self while the days dragged onwards.

He didn’t.

You felt your heart cracking into pieces as each day went by. You were just watching blankly as the man worked himself nearly to sleep, and you knew it was far from normal. He was exactly like you, wanting to overlook everything and wanting to make sure he was doing well enough to keep his job. You watched as he put on that sunny mask for everyone else in the office to admire, but it wasn’t the same. It was never the same genuine, warming smile that had greeted you on that very first day. Was this really how you had looked? Had you really appeared this broken?

I can’t take this.

“Hoseok-ah…”

The man glanced towards you once before his lips quirked into a smile for a single second. You felt like tearing up when their corners fell back down all too soon.

“Yeah?” he breathed softly, and you were sure you weren’t mistaken when you noticed the tinge of relief and slight guilt colouring his tone.

You shifted in your stiffened chair, clicking and closing the document you were reading because you literally could not process the words any longer. Your boss could wait, because this man needed you now.

“Hoseok-ah, would you like to come with me to the break room?” You folded your hands underneath your face, hoping the concern you felt wasn’t mirrored onto your face for display.

“Sorry I can’t, I’ll buy something after work. I need to look at these papers.”

You swallowed thickly, letting your brows finally come together in distress.

“Are you still doing mine? My workload is suspiciously lighter than yours.”

“It’s no big deal, you don’t need all that hassle,” He grinned, and for a heartbeat you knew it was real. The weariness had taken its toll on his poor flickering soul, and at his statement you almost felt like your blood had begun to run cold.

“Hoseok no, stop it. You can’t do everything!” you spluttered, mind reeling at the news that he had still continued to prioritise your stress levels over his own. His caring heart was damaging his own wellbeing, and you just couldn’t bear it anymore.

You got to your feet, remembering how he had stopped himself from reaching out to you that one time. You wouldn’t do the same, because you needed to help him in any way possible. You circled around the desk and softly grasped one of his slender hands, stilling its rapid movement across the keyboard.

“(Y/n)-ah-”

“Come with me now.”

You left no room for argument, tugging him towards you even though your strength was absolutely no match for his. When he reluctantly towered above you, you dropped his fingers and started walking away to the entrance of the firm, towards the staircase that would lead up to the roof. You needed somewhere secluded and quiet, peaceful enough to just talk.

“I really need to go back,” came his complaint, but you shook your head in refusal. He followed you up the stairs curiously, actually a little grateful that you’d taken him away from the stressful abomination that had become his workload. All he had been trying to do was help, but deep down the young man knew nobody would see it that way completely.

When you emerged onto the roof breathlessly, you turned to face him with your eyes watering. He gulped as he took in your expression, knowing that all the smiles and laughter he had tried to muster up for you hadn’t served him well so far.

“Hoseok-ah.” Your gaze softened. “You lost the hope you were trying so hard to show me.”

Hoseok grew rigid as the words registered in his mind. His smile was long gone as he swivelled his eyes downwards to study the concrete floor, conflicted beyond belief.

“Please, don’t shoulder everything by yourself.”

When he heard his own words reflected back to him, he finally broke out of the trance he’d been wallowing in. He vaguely noticed your quietened footsteps drawing closer and closer. Like a ticking clock counting down to his epiphany.

“You’re right,” he snorted, genuine humour gracing his expression as he felt the air around him clear.

“This was meant to be happening the other way around, but look at us (Y/n).”

“Look at us.” You laughed in utter disbelief, feeling the bitter sweetness of the moment wash over you.

“I needed to stop you before you went down the path I did. You were really going there.” You rested your head carefully against his broad chest, letting your arms slip around him tightly so he knew you wouldn’t be letting go any time soon. To your relief, he gently brought his own arms up to press you further into his body. It was as if your warmth was healing him, and you felt his deep and shaky sigh reverberate around you.

“To be honest, your jokes and laughter were the only things keeping me going for a while there. But then that eventually disappeared too,” he murmured, voice cracking slightly as he choked up.

“I’m so sorry (Y/n)-ah. I thought I was doing what was best, but I really did lose all the things I boasted about.”

You lifted your head away from him to drink in his smile. The way his eyes crinkled at their corners endearingly. The way his lips formed that heart-like shape you just adored. The teasing lilt to his voice that had you swooning on your feet.

The way he looked down at you like you were his sun, moon and stars.

“I think I would like to change that.”

You raised your eyebrows at his seemingly favourite phrase of all time.

“And, how do you intend to do that?”

“Like this.”

Then you tasted his answer as he swooped down and captured your lips softly with his own. His hands cupped your face lovingly while you melted against him, both of you eventually smiling against each-other as you thought about how long you had been missing out. You thought about the love and affection coursing through your veins for this man, this man who had entered and changed your life forever.

To actually learn that he felt the same way…was just breathtaking. You knew there would probably be more complications to come, but living in the moment was more important than that ever could be.

You tasted the paprika, and in return, he tasted you.

.

.

.

.

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[yunhostinyuyu]

broken and fixed - part 03

pairing: roommate!doyoung vs friend!taeil x original female character (ft. haechan & taeyong)

genre: roommate!au, work!au, social media!au-ish, fluff, angst, eventual smut

wc: 2.1k

synopsis: kang haneul is desperately looking for a way out of her home. as one of her best friends suggests a friend who is currently looking for a new roommate, a new and better chapter in her life begins. or so she thought...

warning: suggestive, mentions of abuse, panic attack, weed (for medical reasons)

“How many more boxes do you have? I don’t recall you having this much stuff! And why again is everything so heavy?” Donghyuck complained as he lifted another one of Haneul’s moving boxes. Drops of sweat already rolling from his forehead down to his cheekbones. “Quit whining big baby and get to work!” Mina scolded the younger boy as she grabbed a smaller box.

“We’re almost done...” Haneul explained as she kicked the door to her new room open and scanned all the labelled boxes with her belongings. She quietly counted as the three of them put thier boxes down, but can’t get rid of the feeling that she forgot something. “So these are the last ones.” Mina said and rubbed her red hands together. But as Hanuel looked around, she finally notices what’s missing.

“Wait, where’s my keyboard?”

“You didn’t bring it? Because I don’t remember loading it into my car...” Donghyuck commented. Haneul now remembers at how the piano is still at her parents home. She forgot to pack it because it was stored away on top of her wardrobe.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed loudly at the realisation, “I gotta go back to get it, I forgot... Fucking Shit!” she deeply growled. “I’d say that’s typical for you but I think you already know that.” Hyuck said, but was hit by a halfhearted slap from Haneul. He apologized “I’m sorry, I will go back with you to pick it up. Let’s go...”

“No, I can handle it. I still have my keys so I can just slip through for a minute and sneak out again. I’ll be fine, you guys should start getting ready for later.” Hanuel told her friends. Mina’s phone rang and she got startled as she saw the caller ID , “It’s my sister, I gotta run! But see you later!”. She placed a quick kiss on Haneul’s cheek and a slap on Donghyuck’s shoulder before she accepted the call. “Oww! She always does that!” He complained at Mina’s attack as she ran out the door. Right as the front door shut close, Doyoung’s head peeked out of the shared living room. That’s the second time he checked in on Haneul’s moving activities that day, earlier offering his help and letting them know he has friends over. So in case they are being to loud, he said she shouldn’t shy away from telling them to ‘tone it down’, as Doyoung put it into words.

“Everything okay?” He asked, a little concerned. He probably heard the cursing and Mina’s not-so-silent foot steps as she stormed out just a second ago. Hyuck shakes his head and she follows along, linking her hands behind her back in an effort to stretch them, as they stood in the hallways right out of Haneul’s doorframe.

“Yes! Don’t worry Hyung, we are about done.” Hyuck said first. “I’ll have to drop off one more thing in about twenty minutes and then I’m finished.” Haneul added and plastered a smile across her face.

“Yeah, no worries. Just wanted to check in.” Doyoung answered and already turned on his heel to open the living room door once again. As the door was wide open however, Hyuck spotted two new figures in the room and was quick to recognise one of them:

“Hey! Taeyong!” Oh oh. That name rang a bell in Haneul’s mind. Is he that ex of his sister? The one who’s room she is moving into right now? The look on her face froze, but only until they heard the slim figure yell back.

“Is that Donghyuck? What are you of all people doing here?” The boy walked out of the living room into the hallway and towards the younger boy. He was really skinny had had distinctive facial features, topped with platinum white hair, which was pushed back, with some strands of hair hanging out loosely.

“Oh just spending my precious time helping my friend...” Hyuck said, smiling, while fist bumping him. Taeyong quickly turned to face her and offered a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Taeyong, Youngies former roommate.” The new face introduced himself, and Haneul shook his hand firmly.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m the new roommate of Doyoung, but you probably knew that.” She said, but then spotted another new face enter and slip past Doyoung, who was trying his hardest to hide his discomfort about this friends meeting Haneul. But he couldn’t do anything about it now. The nameless guy was shorter than the other two, but not by much. He had a round face with very plump lips and eyes she could loose herself in if she wasn’t careful, sparkling brightly. He was fast to stand next to his bright haired friend, his own brown, short locks looking awfully fluffy.

“We knew that, but we don’t know what your name is, beautiful? I’m Taeil.”

So now, when she first met Doyoung, she thought he was really attractive, but with the flirty boy who was now right in front of her, she had to correct her previous thought. His gaze almost made her drool. Thankfully, she could contain herself enough to shake his hand aswell and give him a genuine smile. “I’m Haneul” was all she could say before Donghyuck interrupted.

“Why don’t you guys join us later? Well be heading to a few bars downtown.” he suggested and Doyoung immidiatly cut right through.

“Maybe another time, but thanks for the offer.” the black haired man said and disappeared back into the living room now, hoping his friends would do the same. The both shoot a certain look to each other, thanked for the invitation and left to join Doyoung in the living room and went back to whatever it is they have been doing before. “Suit yourselves.” Hyuck dismissed the topic.

Haneul took her bag from her room and left together with Donghyuck. Her hands started to get clammy from the thought of having to go ‘home’ for one more time. Already running through all the worst case scenarios as she unlocked her car, which was parked right across Donghyuck’s. “Hey,” he spoke softly and she turned around to face her best friend again. He was just standing there with his arms spread out, offering a big hug. This was so rare coming from him, but nonetheless she put her arms around his back and let herself be pulled into his warm and cuddly embrace.

“I’m proud of you, Noona.” He whispered after a few seconds. “Don’t get all sappy now! Thank you Hyuckie, and I’ll see you later, yeah? Gotta make sure you look good so you get layed.” she joked when she pulled away from the younger man. Even if the older one enjoyed moments like these, she can’t handle them without getting either sarcastic or defensive.

“What do you mean? I always look good?”

“I will see you later! Bye now or I won’t make it in time” she swiftly dismissed his accusation and entered her car.

Nervosity starting to run through her veins as she got closer and closer to her parents home. Maybe she should have asked Hyuck or Mina to go with her, but now it’s too late. She didn’t talk with her parents about her plans to move out. To be honest, she didn’t talk with them at all, unless she was subject to her mother’s hits and unfiltered, rude words targeted at thier only daughter. The chance that they have caught up on what has happened already are pretty slim, since she wasn’t home all day and, obviously, all of her stuff is gone. Memories of the last incident with her crossed her mind again, and she really tried her hardest to keep that thought out of her mind. Focused on the street, the memories still stayed there and didn’t want to budge only an inch, which really made the young girl ache.

On the doorstep, her shaking hands tried to unlock the door as quiet as possible. The door opened itself slowly, and she stayed silent to listen for any sign of her parents. But no - there was only silence and everything was dark. The rooms she was living in all her life until now looked strange. They felt foreign, even if today was only the first day she officially moved out. It felt foreign, and it left a bitter taste in Haneul’s mouth.

Taking a chance, she dashed into her old bedroom, where her piano keyboard was stored. She hurriedly pulled it out from above her old wardrobe, balancing it as good as she could and put it into its cover. Without another thought she held it tightly against her chest and ran back out of the door. Everything happened in the span of only a minute, because Haneul was scared and the adrenaline made her act quicker than usual. But she was quick enough, and put the keyboard carefully in the trunk of her car.

„So that‘s it?“

Haneul froze, still facing the trunk of her car before slowly turning around to look at the source of the voice.

„What does it matter to you?“ she spat, quite surprised she managed not to break down right then and there.

„You‘re my daughter, a quick goodbye wouldn’t have hurt, huh? Tell me, who are you running away with?“ it‘s quite ironic, because it would infact have hurt.

„None of your fucking business. I‘m off now.“ Haneul spoke with as much force as possible, slamming the trunk shut and slowly walking around the car to get in the driverseat.

Her mother just scoffed. „Your attitude will never change, you stupid whore. Don‘t show your disgusting face around here ever again.“

Haneul swallowed hard, hand around the car door handle, but not get pushing it.

„Don‘t worry, you won‘t.“

And with that she drove away, back to her new home. Not having to deal with this mess ever again.

—

„Is she single? Do you know anything about that?“ Taeil asked, as the three freinds sat back down on the couch, curious about the new girl he had just layed his eyes on.

Doyoung didn’t answer, he only rolled his eyes as he stared back on his phone screen. Scanning Haneul‘s Instagram profile again and again in search of anything new, something she didn’t tell him or he didn’t find out about.

She was so interesting to him, but he would never admit it.

„Doyoung?“ Taeyong nudged his friend to pull him out of his thoughts, quickly shutting his phone.

„What? I‘m not helping Taeil, he can figure that out on his own.“ he huffed, clearly annoyed. Even if they were his best friends, they all had thier needs. And normally would help each other out to get what they desired, as in helping each other to get layed. But he really didn’t want them to be involved with his new roommate out of all people.

„Why are you so sour about this? I wouldn’t fuck her here if that’s what you’re so worried about.“

„No, because you won’t be fucking her at all. She‘s my roommate, there’s no need to involve her in anything just because you can’t keep it in your pants for once! There‘s plenty of fish in the sea.“ Doyoung answered and was met with an intense stare of his older friend.

„These are bold words coming from you.“ Taeil said, softly. „Somethings bothering you, and I don’t think it has to do with Haneul.“

„Ah, I don’t know, I‘m just... tired?“ the slim man uttered as he rubbed his temples with his and squeezed his eyes shut. Normally he would hit himself for saying stupid a things like ‘there are plenty of fish in the sea’, because he really didn’t think so. He only said it to distract himself from former memories. And that could also be the reason he’s constantly looking at Haneuls Social Media. To distract himself from the bitterness.

„Come on, we‘ll get something in your system.“

[amydancepants-peralta]

chapter three: head over feet

(the latest instalment of we’re the fortunate ones - my entry into the 2020 Vision Challenge) ♥️🎆

Jake takes a long draft from the bottle of beer in his hand, resting his weight against the pillar in the middle of the room as he watches Amy talk to other attendees of the party in a corner.  

They’d all been roped into attending a New Years Eve party at this random loft in uptown NY, hosted by somebody that Gina called an acquaintance but didn’t seem to have a name (or a face, for that matter).  It was all very upscale, the widespread apartment floor decked out in hipster-luxe decorations and soft popular music streaming from the speakers installed into various points of the ceiling.  The well-stocked kitchen lay claim to copious buckets of alcohol - a virtual buffet of drinks lay waiting for consumption - and the Nine-Nine has spent the majority of their evening rubbing noses with a veritable ‘who’s who’ of New York.  He’s covered head to toe in a suit that - let’s be honest - makes him look way more suave than he is.  And maybe Jake is completely biased (because he definitely is), but he’s certain that Amy is by far the best dressed in the room.  Heck, best dressed in the CITY. 

Her dress is black, covered in this mystical shimmery material that seems to catch the light whenever she moves her body, and like a moth to a flame Jake is completely drawn to it.  There’s a smokiness to her eyes (and he doesn’t even know if that’s the correct term but wow those brown eyes of hers are drawing him in when they’re surrounded like that) and her lips are covered in a hot red lipstick, the kind that doesn’t seem to end up on his lips when she kisses him - a theory that he’s been oh so happy to test over and over.  Her hair is soft and wavy and perfect, just as perfect as she is, and Jake genuinely still cannot believe that Amy Santiago is his girlfriend.

It had taken him less than six days of being with her to figure out that what they had was different from all his past relationships.  To realise that until that kiss in the evidence lock-up, he had spent his whole life waiting for the rest of it to begin.  Everything before that afternoon was Pre-Amy; where things were okay but often disappointing, and his days were best spent alone.  

Now, his life was entirely with Amy:  where mornings began with sleepy cuddles and regardless of whatever the day would bring, there was always going to be her at the end of it.  A crazy intelligent, incredibly sexy woman with a heart of gold; whom’s opinion meant far more to him than anybody else’s.  

And a life Post-Amy?  Not gonna happen.  Jake would rather quit the force than consider it.  He’d had a gun pointed at his head a week ago, and her face had been the only thing to flash through his mind.  There have been very few times in Jake’s life where he’s been grateful for Boyle’s ability to appear unannounced, but that evening at Goodwin’s was absolutely at the top of the list.  Thanks to Charles, Jake had been able to wake up Christmas morning with the most beautiful woman in New York laying next to him, and that was honestly better than a thousand bottles of Heart Attack Soda.

She catches his eye from her position across the room, blushing slightly underneath his gaze before turning her attention back to the two other guests she had been talking to.  Jake stands a little taller and waits, knowing that her curiosity will grow too great, and after a beat her gorgeous eyes flicker back towards him and he smiles in victory, nodding his head towards the outside balcony in a wordless invitation.  Tonight has been great, but the countdown to midnight is creeping closer, and there isn’t anybody else in the world he wants to share his first moments of the new year with.  

Amy turns her head back towards the woman to her left, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before nodding vigorously, still giving the illusion of the others having her full attention because Santiago’s are nothing if not gracious guests at any party.  But it’s the only signal Jake needs to rest his now empty bottle of beer on a nearby table and head towards the balcony, shifting a nearby potted plant in front of the doorway as a hopeful deterrent to others.  

It only takes her a few minutes to join him, and Jake can smell her perfume before he can see her, the warm smell of spiced vanilla pulling his attention away from the glittering city lights below.

“Pot plant blockage, nice move detective.”  Amy’s smile is coy, reaching out to smooth the tie he had begrudgingly put on earlier in the evening.  

Jake captures her hand as it moves to leave, pulling her palm up towards his lips and leaving a soft kiss against her skin.  “Do you think it’ll work?”

Her fingers curl around his, tugging him a little closer as she shrugs.  “It might.”  Taking a sip from her champagne glass, she winks.  “That, and just before I left I mentioned how good the fireworks were going to look from that balcony on the other side.”  Tipping the glass further back, she drains it all before continuing.  “There’s a whole crowd heading that way as we speak.”

Jake nods in approval, taking the empty glass from Amy’s hand and sitting it on top of the heavy brick balustrade.  “Genius.  My girlfriend’s a genius.”

“Damn right she is.”

“And gorgeous.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Uh, YEAH.”  Jake raises his eyebrows incredulously, lowering them with his voice as he wraps both hands around Amy’s waist.  “And kinda amazing.  Also?  Brilliantly nerdy, and sexy. as. hell.”

Amy looks up at him with the softest smile on his face, a look similar to earlier today when she snoozed her alarm (something she’s begun doing with increased regularity, not that he will ever bring that to her attention), cuddled into Jake’s side and rested in the nook between his neck and his shoulders.  It’s a place that has become her nook - a place that feels empty when she’s not there - and she gave him the same smile as now when the alarm blared ten minutes later, and Jake was forced to finally open his eyes.  

There are a thousand things he could say right now, about how much Amy has changed his life for the better, but then her hands wander down his chest, diving underneath his jacket and wrapping around his midsection, and Jake finds himself completely lost for anything to say except the one thing that completely terrifies him. 

He loves her.  There’s no question about it.  He’s probably been in love with her for longer than he can remember, but his heart had caught up with his head somewhere around October and for the longest time there have been three little words bubbling up to the top of his throat, threatening release every time Amy looks at him the way she does.  It was different, this feeling - an all-consuming, undeniable force that has changed everything for the better, serving to remind him that whatever notion he had thought love to be before he’d started dating Amy had been completely wrong.  

Emotions have never been comfortable for him; love has always seemed like a mysterious force before now, and he hates the defeated look that flashes across her face whenever she gets serious with her feelings and his doofus brain responds with a noice or a smort.  Amy deserves better than smort and - in further proof that she is, in fact, incredible - being with her has made Jake begin to believe that perhaps he can be honest with her about how he feels, and not fear the response.  To tell her he loves her without masking it with a joke, or adding it into a ramble that steers her away from the importance of what he’s truly saying.  

Amy head rests against his chest and sighs contentedly, squeezing Jake softly.  “Tonight has been fun, but this right here has been the best part by far.”  He nods, throat heavy with unspoken words;  letting his hands roam over the back of her dress and dipping to the small of her back before pulling her closer.  The rest of the world can have all their sparklers and streamers; no amount of revelry could ever compare to this.  This moment was all he could have hoped for, and he’s endlessly grateful to be able to say that it’s finally his.

In the distance Jake can hear the rest of the crowd counting down the final seconds, and as the world fades into the background with the muted sound of “eight, seven, six” he looks down to Amy, resting one finger underneath her chin and tipping her face to his.  Her eyes are sparkling, catching the light from the party still happening inside, and he doesn’t know how she’s done it but it’s just further proof that she is magic and before another thought can be made, her hands are on his jawline, pulling Jake down until his lips meet hers for the kind of kiss he’s been waiting his whole life for.  

The crowd cheers, the renewal of another year long forgotten as their tongues tangle sweetly, arms locked around each other.  Resolutions of catching bandits and jumping from rooftops fall by the wayside as Amy’s fingers run through Jake’s hair, and the only promise he makes for the new year is make sure Amy knows how I really feel about her.

It’s a blinding bright flash of light that separates them, both blinking in confusion as they seperate and turn their heads towards the doorway it has come from.  Boyle is standing there, because of course he is, his grin wider than the Hudson as he lifts a polaroid camera in glee, snatching the photograph from the front and blowing gently onto the developing film.  

“Happy New Year, lovebirds!”

“Ugh, Boyle!  How did you even know we were out here?!”  Jake responds.  He’s not ready to let go of Amy just yet, instead choosing to tighten his grip around her waist.  She shuffles a little closer in kind, resting her weight against him and presenting a united front as they stare down their friend.

“I sensed there was a precious moment happening somewhere around here, Jakey, and let me tell you - I was not wrong.  I am SO high on your relationship it’s ridiculous.  I cannot wait to frame this photo and put it on my desk, where I can stare at always!”  

“Jake!” Amy whispers, soft enough that only Jake can hear, and he flattens one hand her back.

“I’m sure it’s a great shot buddy, how bout you come over here and show it to us?”  Jake calls out to Boyle, throwing him his best ‘come over here and join us, we’re not angry at ALL that you ruined our private moment’ face.  It must have been convincing enough, and Charles scurries towards them, gripping the polaroid tightly in his dominant hand.  

Jake waits until Charles is close enough to feel comfortable before snatching the photo from his fingers, shifting his body (and by proxy, Amy’s) towards the light of the apartment as he examines it carefully.  

Admittedly, it’s a great shot - the two of them so wrapped up in each other that it’s hard to tell where Jake’s suit ends and Amy’s dress begins, save for the subtle sparkle of her outfit.  Her head is tipped up where his is tipped down - the towering heels that Amy had chosen for the evening making the distance between them seem just that little bit smaller - and they are completely and totally lost in their kiss.  It’s as plain as day that the two people in this photograph are in love, and Jake can’t help but smile as he takes it all in.  “I’ve gotta hand it to you, Boyle.  It’s a great photo.”

Charles nods eagerly, eyes widening into a mixture of confusion and horror as Jake flicks his wrist, tucking the polaroid into the inner pocket of his jacket lining, tapping the outside protectively as he goes.  “Wait, no!  That was going to - ” he huffs in frustration.  “If you guys want me to stop staring at you in the precinct, then you need to give me an alternative, Jake!”

“How about a selfie?”  Amy pipes up, pulling slightly away from Jake and resting her hand above his jacket’s breast pocket.  “One of all three of us, to commemorate the evening.  I think that would look great on your desk, Charles.”

Genius, Jake mouths in Amy’s direction as Boyle squeals in glee, quickly jumping into position in front of the couple and holding the camera up high.  Their smiles are wide, the genuine happiness palpable through the film as they seperate, Jake linking his hand with Amy’s and letting Boyle lead them back into the party.  Their friends were inside after all, waiting to celebrate the new year with them, and they could definitely sneak out of the party later once Four Drink Amy made her return appearance.

Jake had no idea what the new year would bring, but he had the strongest instinct that whatever would happen, he and Amy would face it all together.