#in the second cap he's supposed to be performing his finisher

[s1k0zu]

Hey everyone,

While I was a bit (okay a lot) late to board the Austin train, once I did, I fell HARD. Before I saw him in Dune II, I knew about him, but never thought to take a second look.

Then I saw Dune and I still can't get Austin's performance out of my head. He was amazing! 😍

I've devoured everything I can find with him since then, and I've been reading a lot of fan fiction lately, and a scene has been playing on repeat in my mind, so I decided to write it down.

I love all the Feyd fics but I find myself wanting more of Austin and less of Feyd (he's just a bit too intense and I kinda miss the hair). So I came up with the idea below.

Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to try writing about something else. 🫣

Fair warning ⚠️ I've never written any fiction before, so this will probably be a mess...and it's maybe a bit too long.

🔞 It's pure smut, so minors stay away!

Under his skin

You and Austin have been together since before his Elvis movie.

You'd met when you were teenagers and became fast friends, but until you had to spend two weeks locked together in his apartment in Australia, because of the pandemic, that was all you were - friends.

You'd visited him for the weekend and then the lockdown forced you to stay.

The tension between the two of you had started escalating gradually, until one night he couldn't resist kissing you any longer. All it took was that one kiss and you were his forever.

You started getting jobs in the crew of all of his projects so you could stay together, which is why you're now in Budapest on the set of Dune II.

It's early morning and it's already as hot as hell. Add to that the giant sound box you've been setting up, so Austin can film his fight scenes in it later, and you're close to fainting.

You haven't seen Austin in two months, because he was busy training in L.A. and you were on location in Jordan with the rest of the cast.

You flew in with the night flight, dropped your bags at his place and went straight to set. He was already there, getting into costume, and you didn't have the time to see him.

Once you're done setting up and finally have some free time you head to his trailer to surprise him and wish him luck.

You open the door and cool air hits your face. Then you see him and you're sure the chill running down your body isn't from the AC.

He's gloriously naked, a black loincloth is all that covers his body. They've painted his torso with black lines and he's got his bald cap already in place. You've seen him in full costume before, but only in photos. This hits differently.

There's something feral and imposing about him and it's doing things to you. Gone is the sweet, gentle Austin you know and in his place is a man who exudes power and dominance.

His body is pure perfection and you know how hard he worked to get here.

"Hey, Earth to y/n. Are you ok?" Austin's voice comes through the fog.

"Yeah", you sigh, "It's just..."

"What?", he asks, a sly smirk forming on his lips.

"Let's just say if you weren't about to shoot, I'd be ruining your makeup right now", you say, raking your gaze over his gorgeous naked body.

"Fuck", he mutters and steps toward you, biting his lower lip, his eyes darkening with want.

"Ah, ah", you stop him, placing a hand on his chest, "makeup."

"Damn you woman! How am I supposed to focus now?", he asks brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"Hey, I'm not the one wearing next to nothing here," you tell him, "and you're not the only one having a hard time focusing."

You brush your lips against his and his hands instantly grip your face as he deepens the kiss. All the frustration of not being able to touch each other for the past two months melts as your tongues dance frantically, fighting for dominance.

"I'll make you a deal," you say, panting, "you go slay them with your talent and we can come back here during the lunch break, to finish this."

"Deal", he says huskily in your ear, melting you with his beautiful voice.

A crew member comes in to call him to set and breaks the tension before you two can go any further.

You watch him perform, always in awe of his ability to switch between himself and the character in seconds. You busy yourself with work and bringing him water bottles and towels between takes, and just like that the hours go by and it's time for lunch.

"I can't wait to take this thing off my head. I'm sweating like a pig," Austin says, taking a towel from your hands. He's been doing fighting scenes for the past hour and he's in full combat get up.

"I'll stick around to help with the set. Text me when you're done and we can take a shower," you say, walking your fingers playfully up his chest. You lean up to give him a quick kiss but he grabs your waist to keep you there, turning it into a steamy makeout session.

"I've missed you so much," Austin breathes out, his forehead touching yours.

"I've missed you too," you say, tilting his head lower to kiss his nose.

You disengage and he heads to his trailer so the makeup team can remove his bold cap.

A while later you get a text from Austin:

R u coming? We had a deal remember?

You mutter an excuse and head towards his trailer, willing yourself not to run.

#

When you enter, you see him running a hand through his wet hair, the bald cap gone. He still hasn't removed his costume.

"Want some help with that my lord", you ask, starting to unzip the back of his wetsuit.

When he hears you call him that Austin feels a shiver run down his body. He turns and wraps his arms around you.

"Say that again," he growls.

His eyes are dark with desire and you swear you can see Feyd still lurking in the background, ready to pounce.

"You should play the bad guy more often. It's a good look on you...my lord."

"Yeah? Wanna show me just how much you like it?"

You grip his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and kiss him long and hard, your tongues fighting for dominance. You bite his lip when he pulls away and the groan that escapes from his throat sets your whole body on fire.

He returns the favour by placing kisses on your jaw and down your neck. When he reaches your collarbone he gives it a bite in just the right spot, making heat pool between your legs.

You lean into him, feeling his erection against you and bite his earlobe, whispering into his ear: "I want you inside me."

Austin's hands tighten on your ass and he gives you a smouldering look. His blue eyes are dark with desire as he dives in to kiss you again.

You start undressing each other frantically, hands running all over, tongues locked in a dizzying dance. The room fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, your moans, Austin's groans and wet kisses.

He grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the shower.

You're both panting while he turns around to fidget with the water tap. You admire his naked body while he adjusts the temperature. He's a work of art - all lean muscle chiselled to perfection.

Your eyes travel down his chest to the trail of hair under his belly button and between his thighs and the sizeable erection he's got. His penis is perfect: a round red tip, its length marbled by veins. You can't wait to taste it and feel it inside you.

You can't believe he's yours.

"My eyes are up here, gorgeous", Austin's amused voice brings you out of your dazed wet dream.

"And what a sight they are," you smile up at him.

After seeing you standing gloriously naked before him, raking your lust-filled stare over his body, Austin can't hold himself back any longer.

His hands come up to grab your face and he bends down to devour you. As the kiss deepens, Austin's hands travel down your body, lingering on your breasts. He pinches one of your nipples and you moan into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss to look at you.

Before you can answer he bends down and licks your neck, slowly descending to your left nipple.

"Fuck you're gorgeous. I can't wait to be inside you."

You start kissing his neck, his chest, his abs, your hands trailing down to his hips. His skin tastes salty from the sweat. You kneel in front of him and lick his length slowly, feeling the veins with your tongue. He lets out a groan and braces himself against the tiled wall.

You place tiny nibbles on the head, squeezing his balls, teasing him. He shudders in ecstasy as you swallow as much of his length as you can and start moving your head up and down slowly.

"Fuck, y/n, you have to stop or I'll come...," Austin pants on top of you. You speed up your pace, locking eyes with him.

Seeing you kneeling before him, your mouth on him, looking at him like that drives him over the edge. Austin comes with a groan and you feel his seed spill into your throat. You take him out of your mouth and give the head a little kiss.

"You taste so fucking good every time," you say standing up.

Austin grabs your cheeks and gives you a rough kiss.

"You have no idea how hot you look on your knees, do you?"

When one of his hands sneaks between your legs and he rubs his fingers on your clit you feel a jolt run over your whole body and you can't stop the moan coming out of your mouth.

Austin hears you moan, hands digging into his back and throws caution away - he bites down hard on your nipple, sliding his fingers into you.

"Fuck Austin", is all you can say, your mind going blank with pleasure. You don't know what's gotten into him, but you love this new, dangerous and dominant side he's showing you.

Austin places wet kisses and nibbles all over your breasts and stomach, pumping his fingers into you. You writhe in his arms, hands tugging his hair.

When his mouth descends on your clit you moan loudly. He bites it and then licks the sore spot, curling his fingers inside you. This sends jolts of electricity all over your body and you feel yourself coming, nails digging into his hair.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," he says, voice hoarse from lust. You can feel his hard length pressing against your entrance.

Austin groans in pleasure when he hears you moan his name, the pain from your nails digging into his scalp sending bolts of pleasure straight to his groin.

He gets up, grabs your hips and lifts you, your back against the tiled wall.

You look at his soft, puffy lips and can't help kissing him again. Austin groans and slips his tongue into your mouth, making you dizzy.

When he finally breaks the kiss to look at you, you see the passion burning in his eyes, but there's something else there too - something feral. You realise he hasn't shaken Feyd off completely.

That sparks something in you, emboldens you.

"Have your way with me, my lord na-Baron. I'm all yours", you say, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling on it, your hips bucking into him.

Hearing you say that, something in Austin snaps. He can't think anymore, all he knows is that he wants to be inside you, now.

With a quiet growl he bends down to crash his lips into yours, sliding into you in one swift move.

You can't help the cry that comes out of your mouth when he slams into you. You were already wet, but he's big.

The sharp pain quickly turns into intense pleasure as he starts thrusting into you with abandon. You can feel every vein on his hard length as he's stretching you and filling you in the best way.

You've been together for years and every time he enters you feels like the first time. It's like your bodies are pieces of the same puzzle. The feel of him inside you is divine.

Austin doesn't wait for you to adjust to his size, he couldn't even if he wanted to. He's possessed by the desire to be inside you, to own you. He picks up his pace, slamming into you, his teeth leaving red marks all over your neck and shoulders. His left hand is moulded to your thigh, his right squeezing your breast.

You've never seen him like this, so forceful and primal, and you realise you love it. As the pain shoots through the pleasure you find yourself coming, trying not to scream. You mould your lips to Austin's to stifle your moans and that just spurs him on. He continues to slam into you, balls-deep, throughout your climax.

After a while, Austin comes to his senses and realises he's too rough, he's hurting you. Just as he slows down his pace, releasing you from his grip, he hears you say:

"No, don't hold back. I want you to lose control. Ravage me."

He looks into your eyes, making sure he didn't just imagine that, and sees only carnal desire and love there. He can't believe you're his.

"Fuck, I love you," he whispers.

You smile and bite his neck hard. The little control he'd managed to take back shatters. Austin slips out of you so he can turn you around, your back towards him, and slams back into you.

One of his hands travels to your neck and squeezes, the other goes to your nipple.

This angle helps him sink even deeper inside you. The sensation is almost too much and you feel the waves of another orgasm coming. Sex with Austin is always great but this is different. He's lost all control and given in to his desire, and you fucking love it.

Austin feels your walls clenching around him and he knows you're close. The hand around your throat tightens as he moves his other hand from your breast to your clit, running his fingers in agonisingly slow circles, and right before you come he inserts two fingers in.

The feeling of his fingers and his hard length inside you is too much and you trip over the edge, your whole body shaking. You claw at his neck and bury your fingers into his hair as he swallows your moans with a kiss when you both come.

You've never seen this side of him before. He's always so protective of you, so gentle. You realise he's been holding himself back, afraid to lose control and hurt you.

He looks at you apprehensively and you smile at him, tugging him close so you can wrap your hands around his neck and give him a slow, tender kiss.

For a while the only sounds in the shower are the running water and your heavy breathing as you're both coming down from your highs.

Eventually, Austin lets you go and eases out of you with a groan. Your legs are shaking as you lean onto the tile wall while he turns around to adjust the showerhead.

He melts into you, relieved you're okay.

You disengage and proceed with your shower, washing each other's hair and bodies, placing soft kisses here and there.

When you're done, Austin stops the water. He swaddles you in a huge fluffy towel, picks you up and carries you to the bed.

He lies next to you on his side, head propped up, facing you, tiny droplets of water running down his face and torso.

"I'm sorry", he says quietly, giving you a sad puppy look and caressing your face.

"For what? Giving me multiple orgasms?"

"No..." he laughs and then falls silent.

"I hurt you. I don't know what came over me."

"Not what, who. You've still got some of Feyd lurking in the background," you say a soft smile playing on your lips.

"That's not an excuse y/n. I should've stopped...I should've..." he trails off, looking remorseful.

"I don't know if you noticed Butler but I liked it. A lot", you lift his head so he can look at you.

"I'm not made of china you know. Promise me you'll stop holding back on me. This was fucking amazing."

"Yeah it was, wasn't it," he says, finally relaxing, "Okay, but on one condition: you promise to tell me if I cross the line."

"Deal," you say and mould your lips over his.

[tlbodine]

Overthinking: Night of the Living Dummy

Is there any Goosebumps villain as iconic as Slappy the dummy? One of Stine's favorite characters to write, a fan favorite, and a recurring character across not just the original series but its many spin-offs, to say nothing of the merch...and here's the book that started it all. Except you may be surprised to realize that Night of the Living Dummy (1993) barely features Slappy at all.

Oh, sure, he's in there, and he makes a big splash. But he's more of a background character...unless, of course, he's the puppet who's really pulling the strings.

First, the Plot:

Night of the Living Dummy introduces us to 12-year-old twins Lindy and Kris. They have a fraught relationship, as many twins do, both loving and hating being a twin. Everything turns into a competition between them, a circumstance not at all improved by Lindy finding a discarded ventriloquist dummy in the dumpster near an under-construction neighborhood home.

Lindy immediately takes to ventriloquism, performing with her new pal Slappy for the entertainment of friends, getting hired to do a birthday party, and even potentially getting a spot on TV. Her parents encourage this hobby, thinking maybe she'll even become famous or make a career of it.

Kris is jealous and demands a dummy of her own, which her parents get her. She names him Mr. Wood and tries to keep up with Lindy, but she doesn't get quite the same attention. Being the kid in school with a ventriloquist dummy is kind of cool. Being the second kid in school with a ventriloquist dummy is kind of lame. You know how it goes.

Anyway - the bigger problem is that Mr. Wood has a mind of his own. She keeps finding him in places he's not supposed to be. She awakens to find him wearing her nice dress-up clothes, all wadded and wrinkled. Another time she finds him seeming to strangle Slappy. One night she discovers he's made a huge mess of the kitchen, dumping out food all over the floor and sitting in a heap of her beloved costume jewelry.

Their mother, already annoyed by the girls' constant bickering, is about ready to take both dummies away when neither twin will come clean about the mess in the kitchen. But they agree to clean it up in exchange for one last chance. After they finish, Lindy admits to Kris that she's the one who's been moving the dummy around, pranking her sister to scare her. Kris is naturally furious.

Unfortunately, that's not the end of her problems. She has the bad horror-movie-survival-sense to read foreign words aloud from a slip of paper in Mr. Wood's shirt pocket, and now Mr. Wood really has a mind of his own. He blinks and moves when nobody's looking. He says rude, awful things, first to the elderly neighbors, then to a teacher in front of an entire auditorium when Kris finally lands a public performance. He caps off the night by spewing green putrid gunk, Exorcist-style, all over the audience, and Kris is in DEEP trouble because nobody will believe her about the dummy.

Ultimately, Mr. Wood makes a bold move, and Lindy sees him and joins her sister in trying to stop him from killing the family dog and wreaking general havoc on their lives. He keeps threatening the girls that he has powers and intends to enslave them (yikes) but they ignore him, attempt to dismember him, stuff him into a suitcase, bury him alive, then finally throw him in the path of construction equipment until he's crushed to oblivion. You know, kid's stuff.

Finally free of the cursed doll, the girls head inside to clean up and savor their victory. Only for Slappy to turn on his own volition and say, I thought that other guy would NEVER leave!

Overthinking It:

Night of the Living Dummy may not be the scariest Goosebumps book so far in the series, but it might be the most uncomfortable to read, at least if you're prone to second-hand embarrassment. Watching Kris sit there helplessly while the dummy in her lap spews vile insults (not to mention vile liquid) is agonizing. Knowing she's innocent and seeing her get into trouble, again and again, is similarly painful.

But the scariest thing about the book by far is Lindy. It's pretty common for Goosebumps characters to prank each other, but Lindy's actions go well beyond pranking. It's a days-long, protracted harassment campaign where she torments and gaslights her sister, acting shocked and outraged at all the right times with the skill of an Oscar winner. It's chilling in its heartlessness.

Either Lindy is the story's true malevolent supervillain, or there's something else going on here.

There's a scene fairly early in the story where Lindy is showing off her dummy routine to their parents, and Slappy growls out something mean to Kris, then slaps her across the face with a wooden hand. Lindy of course gets in trouble for this and it's all written off as part of their rivalry. But if Slappy is alive and talking at the end of the book, it's fair to assume he was alive then, too, which means that Lindy already knows what the dummy is capable of.

I think it's extremely plausible that Slappy is manipulating Lindy into tormenting her sister. I also suspect he's the one who planted the magic words in Mr. Wood's pocket, knowing Kris would be likely to read them and awaken the dummy.

So now instead of one kid being gaslit, we also have a kid being emotionally manipulated and possibly even coerced into performing cruelty. Children's books are neat!

If You Liked This, THESE Will Really Give You Goosebumps:

For a fantastic book about sibling rivalry and puppets behaving badly, you must read Grady Hendrix's How to Sell a Haunted House. It honestly shares so much DNA with this book, I'd be surprised if Hendrix wasn't a Goosebumps fan.

For a different take on ventriloquist dummies being up to no good, you should also certainly check out the movie Dead Silence.

If it's the psychological horror of siblings being awful to each other than intrigues you, try watching and/or reading Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. And, of course, Gaslight is the trope-namer for horror stories about people driving each other crazy to discredit them.

And for walking, talking dolls manipulating kids and saying messed up things, there's the entire Child's Play franchise, which I suspect Stine was strongly influenced by.

[mmingooo]

5. day off - written ෆ⸒⸒ uniquely smau

uniquely is a new co-ed group under pledis entertainment, nabi will have to go through and explore the idol world while making friends, and possibly even finding love.

mingyu x idol!oc

The day was warm, there weren’t as many people out on the streets as the girls would’ve thought. After weeks of performing, going on variety shows, doing interviews, a day off had finally come and they decided to take advantage of it and have a girl’s day.

They went out for lunch, went on a walk, explored the city on rented bikes (even though they knew it like the back of their hands), went to get coffee and to end their day, they went to a shopping center.

There, they looked at clothes, accessories, shoes, make-up, anything they could think of, and after almost an hour later, Nabi’s feet felt like they were about to fall off, Kkotbi and Binna seemed to still have some energy in them to keep going, so Nabi let them know she would stay in one of the sitting areas and wait for them to be done. The pair agreed and off they went to finish speanding all their money.

Nabi sat down and immediately felt relief wash all over her, she let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

She felt someone sit next to her, and she opened her eyes slightly to catch a glimpse of them and see if they were her friends, but they were not, it was a man wearing a black cap who was on their phone.

Nabi closed her eyes again, ignoring the man, and felt as if she would fall asleep in any moment.

“Hello?” The man spoke next to her, and she thought she recognized his voice, “Where are you? I got here like 10 minutes ago.”

Nabi looked at him, first, she noticed he was talking in the phone, and then realized she did actually know who he was. Her eyes widened and her breath got caught up on her throat, it was Mingyu!

“Oh, hi!” Mingyu spoke and Nabi turned to look at him. He had a smile on his face, “You’re Nabi right? I’m Mingyu, we met a few times a couple of months ago.”

“Yes! Yeah, that’s me and I-uh, know who you are,” she smiled awkwardly.

Mingyu chuckles, “So what are you doing here?”

“Oh, uhm, I came here with my members, we had a day off.”

“They’re all here?”

“No no, it’s just me, Kkotbi and Binna.”

“Ah, a girl’s day?”

“Yeah,” Nabi nods, meanwhile, her phone had been going off every few seconds, she assumed it was Minsu, who she had left hanging.

“Do you need to get that?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s okay,” Nabi says, “So uhm, are you here with someone?”

He quickly glances down at his phone, “I’m supposed to be, but they’re late.”

“Ah, girlfriend?”

“Uh no, it’s actually one of my members, Seungcheol?”

“Oh yeah yeah, of course, what are you shopping for?”

“We’re just doing some window shopping, we might get something, but it was mostly to just get out of the dorms.”

“Yeah I can understand that,” they smile at each other and before it can get awkward, Mingyu’s name is called from a distance, they both look to the direction of the calling and see Seungcheol trotting to them.

“Sorry, I got stuck at the studio,” Seungcheol apologizes and Mingyu stands up to greet him, Nabi follows suit. “Oh, Nabi, right? It's been a while.”

“Hello,” she bows, “Yeah it has, we’ve had a packed schedule for weeks.”

“Yeah I can imagine, but it’s been fun I hope?”

“Definitely!”

“That’s good!”

“Uhm, well, I better go find my members, we’ve been out all day.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” they say their goodbyes and as Nabi is walking away Seungcheol speaks up. “If you ever need any thing, we’re a call away, we need to support each other!”

“Thank you so much,” she bows again and bumps into something, her face flushes, “Take care!”

Nabi speed walks, turns the corner and enters the nearest bathroom.

ෆ⸒⸒ notes; uni has been killing me 😭 so forgive me if i don’t post often cause i barely have to open this app 😔💔

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[serpercival]

Can't make myself write naughty stuff at the coffee shop so I'm poking around at my old wips and who wrote this and why isn't there 100k more words of it for me to read right now right now right now

some snippets below the cut of a traphawk post-war thing I started absolutely ages ago and need to get back to when I finish up Mating habits

The travel orders came on the second day. Trapper stared at the name John McIntyre and wondered who the hell that was supposed to be. Then he got drunk enough that he remembered that bet he and Hawk had made, long before they had done anything other than try not to sneak peeks at each other over the shower walls, where Hawk had walked naked through the mess tent in only his boots and side cap. He jerked off to the memory in the empty Swamp, got even drunker, and decided he owed the people a repeat performance. He stood on his and Hawk’s favorite table and kissed Dish, then Kellye, then Margaret, and he cradled their cheeks in his hand and ached for the rough drag of stubble under his palm. He didn’t feel a damn thing when Baker knocked on his door in the evening and asked for one last hurrah. He fucked her anyway, dancing over her skin in a way that was less intention and more the muscle memory of how to make a woman melt under his tongue. He lay in his bunk and stared at the canvas ceiling long after she left and tried to tell himself that he was going to see his girls again. It would be worth it. Hawk would be back in the morning right before he left, they’d say see you later, and Trapper would write a ten page letter a day if it meant Hawkeye didn’t forget him. Eventually Hawkeye would come home. Boston and Maine weren’t so far apart. Maybe he’d get a job in Boston. Maybe he would get a job in New York, and Boston and New York weren’t so far apart, either.

~

It was like he was standing on the step of another man’s home. Dr. John McIntyre, devoted father, loving husband, thoracic surgeon and good little Catholic boy. Family man. Straight-laced, if quick with a dirty joke. Good at trauma work, occasional repairer of bullet wounds, completely ignorant of the damage a mortar shell or a landmine could do as shrapnel tore through every inch of flesh in its path to bury itself so deep in the heart it could never be removed. Ignorant of the way you could leave a thirty hour surgical shift so bone tired you didn’t remember any of the jokes you’d made but with the faces of every boy you couldn’t spend enough time on branded into your mind’s eye with a hot iron. Completely and horribly unprepared for the realities of losing the son you never had, the friend you would have taken a bullet or a lungful of water for, the Maine-made shard of shrapnel that wormed its way into your heart and healed over until it was a part of you as fundamentally as your bone marrow. The shard stood in the gaps between his veins, razor-sharp edges set against the fragile flesh, called him by the name he’d earned at Dartmouth, pulled him tighter and tighter until he was shrink wrapped taut over its cutting points and could do nothing but lean further in and watch as it tore him apart and stitched him back together with 3-0 silk and the kind of kiss that made promises it intended to keep.

John McIntyre had gone to Korea and Trapper was standing in his place in still damp Army regulation boots, a gaping hole in his chest where the shrapnel had been pulled free.

~

Louise flicked him in the shoulder. “John.”

“Hmm?”

She set the book on his lap. “I said your name three times.”

“Mm. Sorry. Long flight.” He rubbed his eyes, pressing out the wetness that was gathering in them. “And I'm not much used to hearing it anymore.”

“To your name.”

Kathy pulled the book out of his hands to flip through it. Becky seemed to be half-asleep against his side. It wasn’t exactly the best environment to have a conversation like this, but it didn’t look like Louise was in the mood for backing down.

“Nobody called me that,” Trapper said. Louise crossed her arms and motioned for him to go on. “I mean, Hawk–”

“Hawk.”

“Hawkeye, yeah. My–” what the fuck was Hawkeye to him? Friend wasn’t enough. Best friend would get a hell of a lot of questions. Lover wasn’t something he could say out loud. “My bunkie. He always called me Trapper, and everyone else kinda… fell in line.”

“Christ alive, John. Nobody called you by your name for over a year?”

Trapper shrugged. “It was what Hawk called me.”

“And you let him.”

“Why wouldn’t I? They called me that in college.”

Louise scoffed and stepped away. “You promised me you’d stop using that when we got married.”

Trapper gently bounced Kathy on his knee when she crawled back into his lap. “Then I don’t suppose it matters much now, does it?”

[micheletriestoart]

Oh look some gratuitous Kyuranger Angst! In the form of a redraw of one of the most traumatic scenes for most kids born in the early 90′s!!!

If the actual finale will be even half as brutal as the infamous episodes 45 and 46, I’ll probably build a monument to honour the writers and all the people at Toei/Tv Asahi because they DO deserve it.

(second part coming this weekend)

screenshot courtesy of mooncaps!

[runnning-outof-time]

A Beauty Beyond Compare | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: She performs under the name Jolene. He became infatuated with Jolene. Is he interested in the alter ego or the woman behind it? (Y/N) finds this out the hard way.

Warnings: language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs, implications of sexual situations (PG-13 rated)

Word Count: 4156

A/N: I’m not gonna lie, I had no clue to start with this one. It’s based off of the song ‘Jolene’ by Dolly Parton, which is one that I love and I think totally fits, but I couldn’t think of a believable scenario that wouldn’t have been corny. I am so very thankful that @look-at-the-soul agreed to helping me with the plot of this because I think it’s one of my favs that I’ve written so far. I hope you enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR THOUGHTS & COMMENTS HELP ME WRITE!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future stories like this one!

Taking one last look in the mirror to make sure she was ready, (Y/N) took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She thought this would get easier the more she did it, but the lead up to the start of the show always got her anxious. The second she'd step on the stage though, it became a totally different story.

"We need you for the stage now, Jolene," a man working behind the scenes announced as he entered her dressing room. (Y/N) nodded and took another breath, making sure the auburn-colored wig was situated correctly on her head. She'd hate for any of the people in the audience to see her true hair color.

She then turned to the stagehand and nodded her head, a smile gracing her face as she walked to the door of her dressing room. In the short walk through the hallway to the stage, she finished the final parts of her transformation.

"Please welcome to the stage, Jolene!" the announcer's voice came through the speakers as she stepped past the curtains to the roar of applause.

She had to admit that she was surprised by the reaction. The Eden Club was a place that she'd never performed at before. So to hear this much applause overwhelmed her slightly. She couldn't show it though. She wasn't (Y/N) at the moment. She was Jolene. And Jolene never got overwhelmed.

"Good evening. Thanks so much for coming tonight. I hope you're ready for a night of great entertainment," she greeted the crowd, smiling as she looked out at the many faces that were eagerly waiting for her set to start. She then sent a smile and a nod to the pianist that was accompanying her, signaling for the first song to begin. Tonight was going to be a good show. She could already feel it.

Tommy Shelby walked into the Eden Club with the intent of finding his brother. He barely acknowledged the bouncer as he cut past the line, removing the peaked cap from atop his head as he strode over to the bar. He figured he'd get a whiskey in hopes that it would calm him down a bit. He didn't want to go into his conversation with Arthur heated, although he thought that his older brother should have his head knocked around a little.

He nodded to the barman and threw some coins on the counter before he tipped back his glass, drinking half of the liquor in one go. He then fished his cigarettes out of his pocket and struck a match to light one, blowing out the smoke before he went to grab his glass again. He finished the rest of his whiskey and waved off the barman when he tried to pour another, feeling ready now to talk business with the man who was supposed to be making a profit for the Shelby Company Ltd. here in London. Instead, he was blowing a big portion of the club's earnings on snow amongst other vices. Tommy wasn't too happy about that.

The sweetest voice stopped him in his tracks before he was able to leave the bar. He took another drag of his cigarette before he turned to look towards the stage. His eyes immediately fell on the voice's owner, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't look away. She was beautiful. Her auburn hair flowed naturally, her outfit complimented her figure perfectly, and her voice had to be that of an angel. If he was any other man, he swore he'd 've died and went to heaven. Tommy stood in a sort of a trance as he listened to her sing. She looked so confident up on stage. No amount of whistles and yelled praises fazed her. She just kept singing. And the more she sang, the more Tommy became enamored with her.

It wasn't until her song finished to the sound of the crowd applauding that he snapped out of the dream-like state that he was in. He blinked a few times before looking down at the bar, the forgotten cigarette nearly burning out between his fingers. So he snuffed it in the ashtray nearby before he stepped away from the bar with the intent to go back to where the club's offices were. But he couldn't leave the main area without taking one last look at the woman on stage. And when he did so, she was looking right in his direction. It was only for a brief second, but he could have sworn that their eyes locked. And in that second, he knew that he needed to know more about this woman.

Breaking his gaze, he turned back to the mission he was on and headed off to find Arthur's office. Upon opening the door, he found Arthur slouched in the chair behind his desk with a half-drank bottle of booze in front of him. "For fuck's sake, Arthur!" he called to his brother, who jumped at the sound of his name being shouted out.

"Fuck, Tom...what'd ya want?" he groaned as he stretched his limbs before rubbing a hand over his face. This was not the way he preferred to be woken up.

"What do I want?..." Tommy trailed off with a scoff, shaking his head as he looked around, "I want to know where all of our fuckin' earnings from this club are going, Arthur. What the fuck is going on?" he asked, his eyes wide and expression serious.

"I'm putting the money back into the business. That's what you told me to do, isn't it?" the sitting man responded, his eyebrows raised as he tried to get on his brother's level. Talk about going from zero to one hundred without any warning.

"Back into the business, eh? Since when has this business had any fucking need for snow? Huh?!" Tommy couldn't help but raise his voice now. It really frustrated him when he didn't get straightforward answers, especially when those answers were coming from his brothers.

"'S the only thing that clears me head out, Tom," Arthur mumbled, looking at his lap like a guilty child.

"I told you grand openings and race days only. How am I supposed to trust you here in London if you can't go a day clean from it?" Tommy asked, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Arthur only shook his head as he kept his gaze low. He had no response for his brother. "You get your fucking act together, or it will be John's turn here, you hear me?"

"Yes, Tom," Arthur's defeated response came the second after Tommy finished speaking.

"Good," Tommy sighed, running a hand over his face before he pursed his lips and looked off at the far wall. "You have a singer performing here tonight. What's her name?" he decided to inquire about the woman he'd just seen on stage.

"Her name's Jolene. Buddy of mine told me about her. She's bloody good, isn't she?" the oldest of the two responded, his eyes finally leaving the floorboards as a hint of a grin played on his lips.

"She's not bad," Tommy, being Tommy, didn't give his full review, instead only uttering a few words of approval.

"She's a good look too, ain't she?" the grin was full on the other man's face now. Tommy couldn't help but scoff at his brother's words, though he couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face. He certainly wasn't going to disagree with his brother...not after what he'd just seen out on that stage. "Don't go gettin' any ideas now, Tom...I need her here because she seems to be bringing in a decent crowd," Arthur warned before anything else could be said.

"Yeah, and you need the decent crowd to get the money of ours that you've pissed away back," the business talk was back as Tommy sent the man sitting behind the desk a look. Arthur only held his hands up in defense before he assured him that he'd get what was lost back in a short amount of time.

"You wanna stay? Still got some whiskey left," Arthur suggested then, holding the bottle up before he took a drink from it.

Tommy shook his head before responding verbally, "no. I've got some other business to attend to," he declined the offer.

"Alright, brother," Arthur nodded, taking his word.

"Work on getting that money back," Tommy stated, pointing in Arthur’s direction to emphasize his words.

"I will," Arthur said in a firm tone before he nodded his head once. Tommy nodded back, their silent way of ending the conversation before he left the office and continued on down the hall.

From the sounds of it, the woman he now knew was named Jolene was still on stage, so he moved to its side and continued to watch her set. Again, he got caught in a trance that was created by her beauty and enthralling voice. He couldn't take his eyes from her as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned up against one of the support beams to get comfortable. He wasn't going to be leaving until her set was finished.

After performing a few more songs, (Y/N) was done for the night. Her voice was just about spent, but it still didn't stop her from giving the crowd the encore that they were cheering for. Hearing her name...well, Jolene...being cheered back at her never got old, no matter how much it happened. The pianist finished up the final song and she took a bow, smiling at the crowd before she exited through the curtains.

She accepted the kind words from those working behind the scenes as she made her way back to her dressing room. She was more than ready to take her wig and makeup off and get back into her more comfortable clothes for the night.

What she wasn't expecting was to see a man standing next to the door of her dressing room. She slowed her step as she approached him cautiously. As she got closer she saw his nicely tailored suit and strong facial features. He had a rather severe haircut, but was pulling it off nicely. What struck her most, though, was his deep, blue eyes.

"Wonderful performance tonight," he spoke, his voice low as she noticed a slight smile on his features.

"Thank you," she sent him a genuine smile in response, "you are?" she asked then.

"The owner of this club," he gave a vague response.

"Arthur Shelby, is it?" she tried to remember the name that her manager had told her.

"Me brother. Name's Thomas Shelby," he formally introduced himself, his hand extended towards her. "My company owns the club. He's just in charge of it," he gave more of an explanation as they shook hands.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Shelby. This is a lovely place you've got here," she complimented him with a smile.

"Thank you, and please, call me Tommy," he told her and she nodded, making a mental note of it. "You've a lovely voice," he gave her a compliment of his own.

(Y/N)'s cheeks heated up at his statement, but she tried to hide it. "Thank you," was all she was able to say as she was ultimately unable to stop the giddiness from rising within her.

Much to her luck, Tommy was able to keep the conversation going. "You have a last name, Jolene?" he asked, his eyebrows raised slightly in intrigue.

"Oh, my name's not actually Jolene at all,” she confessed to him, “it’s actually (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is my name.”

“Oh, well it’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” he was a bit taken back by her confession, but it didn’t deter him from her. Loads of people had stage names, right?

“It’s nice meeting you too, Tommy,” she smiled up at him, “I should probably get changed out of this outfit for the night,” she said then as she started inching towards the dressing room door.

“Of course,” Tommy nodded as he turned slightly to still be facing her, “will you be performing here any more in the near future?” he asked before she entered her room.

“You’re the owner of this club. You should know that better than me,” she responded with a slight laugh and a smile.

Tommy chuckled at her response. “Yeah, I guess I should,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck before he let her slip into her dressing room and out of his sight for the night.

(Y/N), or Jolene as she was referred to on stage, quickly became a regular at the Eden Club. She brought in a great crowd, and people couldn’t seem to get enough of her music.

Tommy made sure that he was in attendance every night that she was on stage. Sometimes he’d manage to find her on her way back to her dressing room and chat with her, but most times, he’d sit in the back of the room and listen to her sing. He couldn’t believe how fast he’d become besotted with this woman. The grip that she and her beautiful voice held on him was one like no other woman was capable of. It was truly what brought him back each night. He also enjoyed getting to talk to her the few times that he did. He found her smile to be infectious and her beauty to be even more evident up close.

Tonight, however, (Y/N) was stressed. Her manager had to leave just before she was due to go on, which meant she wouldn’t have a ride home after the show was finished. Sure, she lived within walking distance, but who ever likes to walk?

Soon enough, the show came to a close, and (Y/N) stepped off the stage and into a pit of dread. It was almost like she didn’t want to leave the venue. A bit of light got thrown into her situation when she noticed Tommy standing by her door.

“Wonderful show, (Y/N),” he started with his usual greeting, a smile on his face as she stopped in front of her.

“Thanks, Tommy,” she tried to muster up a smile, but her stresses were overtaking her.

Tommy noticed this right away. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“My manager had to leave, which means I’ll be walking home tonight,” she explained her predicament. Tommy pursed his lips at her statement. The thought of her walking, alone, in the city of London at night didn’t sit well with him. “I mean, it’s not the end of the world...I just really hate walking.”

“What if I walk you home?” he offered then, “you’d still be walking, but at least you’ll have someone with you.”

“You don’t have to do that, Tommy,” she brushed his suggestion off at first.

“I wouldn’t mind, (Y/N), really,” he pushed for her to accept, “you walking alone doesn’t sit well with me.”

(Y/N) thought about it for a moment. “If you insist...” she trailed off then, a smile forming on her lips.

“I insist,” he nodded.

“Let me just grab some things and we can head out,” she told him, going into the dressing room to quickly grab her bags and make sure that things were tidy. She was thankful that the dress she chose to wear on stage that night was one of the more breathable ones. One that she didn’t mind walking home in. “I’m ready,” she informed him and he nodded before leading the way back down the hall and to the club’s main doors.

They talked as they walked. Tommy seemed to be really intrigued by how she got started with music, so she told him the story of how she’d got chosen for a school production by chance and it just kind of stuck from there. (Y/N) thought it was a rather boring story, but he couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from her. She wondered if it was because of her appearance.

“This is mine,” she said as they got to the main entrance of the apartment building that she resided in. She figured that she’d stop him here because she didn’t want to trouble him with climbing the three flights of stairs up to her actual apartment.

“It was lovely getting to know more about you tonight,” Tommy said as he turned so that he was facing her. She immediately noticed how close he was to her. But she didn’t shy away from him. Maybe her still being dressed as Jolene gave her more confidence in the moment.

“Next time you’ll have to tell me more about yourself,” she responded with a smile. She most certainly had more confidence than she usually would. She even dared to take a step closer to him.

“There’ll be a next time?” Tommy asked her, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“I’d like there to be,” she smiled up at him, but this smile wasn’t just a friendly one.

Tommy caught this subtle hint, and it made that same type of smile form on his face as well. “I’d like there to be, too,” he agreed with her as he filled in the gap, dropping his hands to rest against her hips as he pressed his lips to hers.

(Y/N) was certainly shocked by the sudden kiss, but she didn’t hesitate in returning it. From the moment she met Tommy Shelby, she’d been attracted to him. Her hands came up to hook behind his neck as their kiss deepened, their tongues meshing as they danced seamlessly with each other. She was the first to pull away and take a few deep breaths to steady herself.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” he asked her after a few seconds that were filled solely with panted breaths.

“Yeah,” she answered, gazing up at him through her eyelashes as she ran her hands from behind his neck to caress his cheeks. He squeezed her hips as she pulled his mouth down to match hers again. Their kiss was shorter this time, but it still had the same dizzying effect on (Y/N) as the first did.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” Tommy said as they finally released their holds on each other.

“Goodnight, Tommy,” she repeated the farewell before they went their separate ways.

(Y/N) was finally able to remove the auburn colored wig from her head once she got into her apartment. She breathed a sigh of relief as she let her natural (y/h/c) locks fall. But she noticed something as she sat at her vanity and started to take her stage makeup off. Thomas Shelby had only seen Jolene. Each time that spoke, every time she performed, and even now when they kissed, (Y/N) wasn’t showing him her true self. And as she continued with taking off her makeup, she started to wonder whether or not Tommy was solely with her because of the way that she looked. If he was with her because she was Jolene.

Like before, Tommy attended every performance that (Y/N) held at the Eden Club. Unlike before, however, he made sure to meet her after every show. The first time, they managed to make it back to her apartment before the clothes came off and the passions rose, but every time after that, they didn’t even make it out of her dressing room.

(Y/N) couldn’t complain though. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. That was very painfully obvious. They would always meet each other right after the show though, which meant that (Y/N) was still dressed as Jolene. And as they got deeper and deeper into this relationship, (Y/N) started to become rather nervous. She had no clue how she’d managed to keep up the act this long, but she knew that it had to fall off the rails sooner or later. She was hoping, even praying at this point, that Tommy didn’t lose interest in her completely the second he saw who she really was. She was hoping that Jolene wouldn’t take her man, and that her true self would stand a chance.

She had another show tonight at the Eden Club. The usual excitement was coursing through her body as she moved around her dressing room in the comfortable robe that she wore before every performance. She wasn’t quite sure if she was excited more for the show itself or for what was to come after. Either way, she was buzzing as she sat at the vanity in the room and started to get her makeup sorted out.

She wasn’t thinking anything of it when she heard a knock on the door. She called for whoever it was to come in before she continued her makeup. Her heart just about jumped into her throat as she saw who entered the room through the mirror. “Fuck, Tommy...no. You’re not supposed to be here,” she scrambled with what she was doing, reaching over desperately for the auburn wig that was sitting just out of her reach as panic set in.

“Woah, woah, (Y/N)...what’s the matter?” Tommy confusedly set the roses he had with him down on the table by the door before he cautiously approached her while she continued to frantically move around.

“You’re not supposed to see me like this,,” she gasped, almost flinching as he got close to her before she let him spin her to face him when his hand settled on her arm.

“Like what, love?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows. He didn’t understand what she was getting at.

“Like this, Tommy,” she sighed in defeat as she motioned to her rather drab robe, (y/h/c) hair, and makeup-less face.

“There’s something different?” he somehow still seemed confused as his eyes stayed locked with hers. (Y/N) almost wanted to scoff at him. Was he playing some sort of sick joke?

“I’m not Jolene, Tommy. I’m not dressed up in my stage outfit, I don’t have any makeup on, and this is my normal hair,” she pointed out the differences that she thought were so obvious.

“And yet your beauty is still beyond compare,” he responded. This time she did outwardly react to his words. A gasp left her lips as she lightly smacked his chest before leaving her hand resting against his suit jacket. It wasn’t the best response to what he’d just said, but it was all that she could think of doing.

“Please don’t just say that to spare my feelings. I know that you were only intrigued by me because of Jolene. Everyone loves her personality and the way she looks,” she tried to get him to drop the act, but he only shook his head at her words.

“I noticed the difference, (Y/N). Between how you acted on stage and how you acted when we talked...when we were alone together. Yeah, you’re beautiful with the wig on and all of that shit on your face, but I think I’m in fucking love with the woman that I get to be with after the curtain falls. I know you, and I want to be with you,” he admitted to her, a slight chuckle escaping his lips because this all felt surreal to him. Was he really telling her that he loved her?

“Tommy...” she breathed, not knowing what else to say. “Tommy, really?” she asked then as she looked into his eyes.

“Yes, really,” he affirmed while nodding his head. Within seconds, (Y/N) was standing slightly on her toes so that she could press her lips to his. She gripped onto his suit jacket as his hands came up to cup her cheeks. All of the words she didn’t know how to say were so clearly conveyed in her actions.

They pulled away short after and (Y/N) searched his eyes for a second before a smile formed on her face, “I think I’m in love with you, too, Tommy,” she breathed, an immense feeling of giddiness bubbling up inside of her.

“That’s good to hear, because you’re too fucking special to me for me to let you go now,” he told her, kissing her once more then.

Tommy stayed in (Y/N)’s dressing room as she turned herself into Jolene, but not after he showed her exactly what he meant when he said that he wanted to be with her.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but giggle into the crook of his neck as the sound of someone banging on the door and telling her that she needed to go on stage shortly persisted outside. She paid no attention, and instead she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist and basked in the love that he was showing her.

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @the-anxious-youth @magicalxdaydream @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

MASTERLIST

Listen to the song here:

[jmdbjk]

Frustrated anons.

I have had several asks this week from frustrated people: 

Anon, frustrated with Tae being clingy with Jungkook in general. And Anon is frustrated with the parts of the fandom who crucify Jimin when he does the same. I totally understand, Anon. That is frustrating. Remember to block the accounts that are being negative like that. That way you won’t have to see their bullcrap. But remember, Tae is allowed to touch Jungkook. Like this sweet gesture during the Festa dinner when everyone started crying when Namjoon broke down and got emotional...try to cut Tae some slack.

Another Anon, frustrated that Tae seems to purposely perpetuate the fantasies of the cult by posting photos of JK on his insta. Tae also posts photos of lots of other people. There’s that “loving gaze” I think I mentioned before on some other post. Where’s the cult’s outrage over that?

People just need to get over the fact the members post photos of each other on their social media. When they start posting hickey pictures and stuff, then we can talk. Oh wait....heh heh.

Anon who is frustrated that Jimin is not putting his Instagram feed to work like the supposed marketing genius Tae is. Anon says Tae is subliminally pushing brands and at the same time posting personal pics. Anon, the man is just living. And documenting it on his Insta ...which is personally managed by himself, but is still not a PERSONAL account. If they only follow each other, and commenting is not turned on...it is an account associated with their work persona, not their private persona. Jimin is doing the same. Jimin even managed to plug The Lab’s merch on his insta...I promise you several of those personal pics below were taken by someone with the initials JJK. 

Saying Jimin doesn’t know what he is doing is a cop out. Jimin knows what he is doing. Remember his hoodie and earrings that sold out within seconds for THREE pre-orders?

*Wonders when Instagram became so important.*

Anons frustrated with me because I am blind and stupid: 

1) Too stupid to see what is happening between Jimin and Jungkook. I am not too stupid, I just don’t own the apartment adjacent to where I can listen through the walls...I’d love to see what is happening between Jimin and Jungkook...I mean...no I don’t...eww...who said that? But for real, they are fine. They just don’t behave like you want them to in social media and I guess you’ll have to get over that.

2) Too blind to see how Jimin and Jungkook or just Jimin are being mistreated by the company. Which company? Do I need to make a PowerPoint on the HYBE corporate structure? I think I’ve already been over that a few times.

3) Also too blind to see what true love looks like (insert link to twitter pic of Tae looking at JK. During a performance. In front of people. Like Tae looks at everyone during concerts and performances only in this instance it is a screen cap of he and JK) Thanks, Anon, now I know what true love looks like. Wow, after all this time, who knew? You should probably go finish your homework or something.

[ficsforeren]

in chapter 6 of TLS i thought they were going to have sex in the shower. i love the fluff but i kinda want to know how shower sex with rockstar eren would be like 👀👀👀

aight, your wish is my command. so this takes place between chapter 7 and 8 of The Last Song. they still haven't properly confessed to each other yet, so yeah let's go back to their FWB era 😏Wrote this in like half an hour I hope it's not that bad 😭

WC: 1.7K . Content warning: shower sex, cum on face

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

To do his final promotion before his new single Hero/Heroine comes out, Eren had been going on a mini-tour for the last ten days, traveling across three different cities so far, with four more planned in the following weeks. If he was close enough to visit, he would spend the night in your apartment, legs tangled underneath the sheets, his mouth marking your skin. But with both of you having your own schedules, it became harder and harder to spend time together. You kept contacting each other through calls and texts whenever you had time to spare, but being in the honeymoon phase of your Friends-with-Benefits relationship, just hearing his voice wasn’t enough.

You weren’t supposed to see him again for another two weeks, but fortunately, your job required you to travel to another city—the same town he was currently in. To surprise him, you didn’t let him know you were coming over to his show, but you called Marco to let you in. With his help, you dressed yourself up as one of his crew, wearing a baseball cap to hide your face. Eren didn’t notice your presence when he walked out of the stage with his Fender Starcaster in his hand, his sweat dripping off his chin as he tried to catch his breath. The show was a huge success, the crowd was still chanting his name, hoping he would perform one more song for the night. But Eren had had enough. As fun as it was being on the stage, he couldn’t wait to hear your voice. Handing his bass to Marco with a smile, he said, “Tell Levi I’m getting some fresh air. I need to go make a call real quick.” Eren made his way out with hasty steps, snatching his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

You and Marco traded stares and mischievous smiles. “You sure you two aren't dating?” He teased you.

“Oh, shut up.”

Not a few seconds later, your phone rang. Eren was calling you. Bidding Marco goodbye, you chased after him, answering his call. “Hey, Eren.”

“Hey, baby.” He sounded breathless but equally as excited. “I just finished the show.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me.”

He chuckled, a bit sheepishly. “Yeah, I guess so. Where are you now?”

You picked up your pace. “In my apartment, doing my laundry. Where are you now?”

“In my dressing room. I’m about to change my clothes before Jean and Reiner get here.”

“Oh, where are they now?” There it is, the dressing room, you thought, spotting the same room he once invited you in.

“Probably still on the stage, flirting with the fans.”

You stood on the other side of the door, calming your breathing. “You don’t flirt with them?”

“No,” he answered and your heart skipped a beat at the sudden solemnity in his words. “I don’t do that, not anymore.”

“Why not?”

He sighed. “Because—”

You clicked the door open and Eren spun his head around, eyes widening in shock when he saw you standing there with your phone strapped to your ear. “Because?” You urged him with a shy smile painting your lips.

He wetted his lip, his heart thrashing wildly inside his ribcages. Because I only want you. I don’t want anybody else, I want you. Because I’m in love with you and it’s driving me insane. I need to have you for myself.

You ended the call, tilting your head cutely at him. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Eren never ran as fast as he did then, pulling you into his embrace until both of your phones clattered against the carpeted floor. He was pushing you against the door, his hand taking a fistful of your hair, his other one framing your jaw as he kissed you deep. You gasped against his mouth, overwhelmed by his vigor, your fingers clutching against the front of his shirt. “Fuck,” he said, breaking away just to say, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” before he smashed his lips against yours.

“I wanted—” You were interrupted by another kiss, “I wanted to surprise you—“

Eren barely had the patience to let you finish your sentence. His joy was so intense, it scared him. It was only when you giggled against his mouth that he pulled away. “What?”

“You reek of sweat,” you tittered, scrunching up your nose. “Your shirt is literally soaked.”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” He pulled away, mortified by the thought. “Sorry, can you wait? I’ll go and take a shower real quick—”

You tugged him back to you by hooking your fingers around his necklace. “I didn’t say you should stop.” You bit the corner of your lip, looking up seductively at him. “I don’t want you to stop, actually.”

Eren surrendered in your arms like he always did. He placed one hand on the door, right beside your head, kissing you again, only slower this time, more languidly. You could tell that he was still bothered by the thought that his skin was sticky with sweat, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable by it.

“I really need to take a shower,” he said, breaking away, still leaving you a little bit dazed from his kiss. “It bothers me if I don’t.”

“Well, then, uh…” You cleared your throat. “I’ll just wait with Marco outside.”

“No.” He clamped his fingers around your wrist, smirking at you. “You’re coming with me.”

It was so thrilling to have your body pushed against the bathroom tiles, your hand pinned beside your head as he fucked you raw. Eren raised one of your legs and wrapped it around his waist, his cock buried deep inside you as your chests were pressed together. Hot water poured over your heads, drenching your bodies, and hitting the floor loud enough to conceal his grunts. “God, I’ve missed you,” he said, teeth grinding against the side of your neck.

“It’s literally only been a week since we last—” A moan broke past your lips as he bucked his hips forward, brushing against your sweet spot. He lifted your other leg in the air, leaving you with no choice but to trust him completely. With your arms winding around his neck for support, you hooked your legs around his waist. “Aren’t you tired?” You gasped out, amazed that he could still hold you in the air after doing his show.

“From fucking you?” He smirked against your shoulder. “I can do this all day, Sweetheart.”

“You just ran on the stage for three hours straight.” You were getting dizzy, his mouth clamping around your nipple.

“Well, this and that are different.”

You silenced each other's moans with your tongues gliding against one another. His biceps flexed as he drove you against the wall, his cock sliding in and out of you.

When his pelvis grazed your clit, you couldn't help but moan a little too loud than intended. The sound bounced off the walls and he brought you down to your feet, flipping your body around until you have your cheek pressed against the tiles. Eren slapped a hand over your mouth, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. “Keep your voice low, baby. I don’t want that horse face to hear how beautiful you sound when you moan out my name.”

He plunged inside you from behind, muffling his own groan by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. “Ah, you feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”

“Mmph—” Two of his fingers slipped inside your mouth, saliva dripping down to your chin but it was quickly washed away by the water.

“I need you to cum,” he whispered, giving you a few hard thrusts, enough to have your body lurching forward, squished between his chest and the cold tiles. “Cum on my fucking cock, baby, I need to feel you clench around me. Need to feel how fucking tight you are.”

You trembled at his words, your mind reeling. Eren gave himself to you with intensity he had never given a girl before. “Hands on the wall,” he said and you obeyed. He switched his angle, straightening his back as he pushed you down by pressing on a spot between your shoulder blades. His nails sank deep into the supple flesh of your hips, gliding out only to thrust back in. You almost knocked your head against the tiles each time he fucked you, biting on your own lip to stop your whimpers from reverberating in the air. He gave it to you fast and hard, his hand moving up to squeeze your breast before he toyed with your clit. It didn’t take long before your body shuddered violently, your thighs trembling as your orgasm hit you like crashing waves. You could barely stand but it was okay, Eren wanted you on your knees anyway.

You spun around, facing him as you sat on your heels. He turned off the shower, wanting to see your face without distraction. Pumping himself fast with one hand, he looked down with half-lidded eyes. “Can I cum on your face?” He asked, breathing heavily.

You nodded, darting out your tongue. He groaned at the sight. You were such an obedient little minx, ready to have his taste down your throat. “You’re so fucking beautiful—Ah, shit—” With another stroke of his hand, he cummed on your face, making you jolt in surprise when you had thick ropes of hot cum staining your cheek and nose, some even got on your hair. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he groaned in pleasure, slurring out the words. He had one hand supporting himself against the wall, his head dangling low as he rubbed the tip of his cock around the shape of your lips. He shivered when you closed your mouth prettily around his tip, sucking the rest of his seeds before you took him to the hilt and swallowed around him. He moved his hand from his cock to the back of your skull, gently holding you still as he slowly fucked your face, his dick gradually turning flaccid inside your mouth.

When he was done, you wiped your lips with the back of your hand and he pulled you up to your feet. “I’m sorry, I made a mess,” he said, turning bashful as he switched on the shower again, helping you clean your face from his stains. "Are you okay?"

You cast him a smile. He was always like this, rough when he had his dick inside you but overly caring when he was done. When you were spotless, he kissed you, showing his gratitude by holding you close, shifting his lips to your cheek before he ended the journey by placing a lingering soft kiss on your temple. You giggled, brushing your lips against the skin that covered his heart. “Did that feel good?”

He feebly laughed. “So good, I feel like I’m about to pass out.”

“I thought you could do this all day.”

“Are you tempting me?”

You smirked naughtily at him. “Maybe.”

“Give me two minutes and I’ll make you scream my name.” He pressed his thumb on your chin, tugging it down so you’d part your lips. He loved seeing a glimpse of your tongue, loved it even more when it was coated by his cum. “And I’ll let everyone hear you this time, 'cause you’re mine, aren’t you, baby? I want the whole world to know you belong to me.”

Only me.

***

[leastlikelytoachieve]

To Love and to Be Loved (Chapter Two)

A/N: I'm so nervous to put the second chapter out. I've been reading other fics and I feel like mine doesn't match up. I hope you guys like it as much as the first one. I feel like it's moving super slow!! Anyways, what song do you think y/n should perform for Brucie???

Warnings: mild language, bad grammar/writing

Chapter One

“You thought you could run? You thought I wouldn’t find you?!” His screams sounded almost like an echo as they rang through my ears. It felt like I was running in place as I tried to navigate through the streets of Gotham. I tried to scream but no sound escaped my lips. “Oh come on baby..i just missed you..please come back to me…we can work this out…” I tried to steady my breathing as I ducked behind a dumpster, the putrid smell of garbage and god knows what else filling my lungs with each labored breath. “Come ON STUPID BITCH! SHOW YOURSELF!” I placed my hand over my chest and pulled the air through my nose and pushed it out through my lips, listening for his footsteps but hearing silence, and then “gotcha”

My eyes shot open, sitting up, pushing and kicking at the fabric holding me down. Scanning my surroundings, I found myself safe in my bedroom, covered in a layer of fresh sweat. I sighed and fell back down onto my pillows. Accepting that I probably wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, I reached over to the side of my bed and grabbed my cell phone. I scrolled mindlessly for a few minutes before getting out of bed, the ache in my head a reminder of last night. I met him. All of those daydreams and I finally met him. I closed my eyes and tried to remember how it felt to be in his arms, the safest place in the city.

“y/n! Wake your ass up! It’s almost noon and we have soundcheck in an hour!” The fists on the door were enough to make me jump out of my skin.

“Yeah I’m up! Dickhead.”

“ Heard that!”

“You were supposed to!” I rolled my eyes, smiling to myself as I gathered clothes for the day. A cropped Nirvana T-shirt with ripped black skinny jeans, deciding to slip some fishnets under the ripped jeans and grabbed my knock off Doc Martens. One day I’ll be able to afford real ones, I mused to myself as I gathered it all in my arms and padded down the hallway into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and reached under the sink to grab some towels and a washcloth. As I pulled the cabinet open, the hinges broke and the cabinet door came off in my hand. Lovely. I set it down on the floor, got undressed and stepped into the shower. Cold. The water is always cold.

“I submitted an application to audition for the event that Bruce Wayne is hosting.” Alex said, mouth full of bacon as I poured a cup of milk. “They said we should hear back within a week with details about the audition. Have you gotten any more of the song finished?” the question caused me to sigh and set my glass down. “No, I had writers block for hours last night. I called it quits. I’ll work on it more tonight after the show.” he nodded as Georgia and Trevor came out of their room. “Alright! Let’s go! Onward!” Alex shouted as he pointed towards the door. I stopped in the doorway, turning around to look at the apartment. The half-ass walls, covered in posters and song lyrics. One day, I’ll be out of this shitty apartment.

“I’ll get another one. On the rocks, please” I sat down on the stool at the bar, placing my chin in my hand. Another show, another bar, minimal money. Johnny, the bartender handed me my drink as a man dressed in a baggy jacket and baseball cap sat down beside me. Johnny took his drink order before turning back to me. “Great job tonight, Y/N. As always.” i chuckled dryly. If only he knew how painful this mundane routine was to me. “Yeah. I don’t know Johnny. Maybe it’s time to hang it up. Find a boring 9-5. I’m not getting any younger.” he laughed and handed the man next to me his drink. “You are way too talented to work behind a desk, Y/N. Great things are coming for you. I feel it. I have to handle the other side of the bar. Keep that pretty head up, kid!” he waved as he walked away. I twirled the drink around in my hand, staring at the glass mindlessly when a voice from beside me caught my attention. “If it’s any consolation, I agree with him.” I looked over at the man, he had his head down but from what I could tell by his complexion he was young, close to my age. He had a strong jaw and slight stubble. I couldn’t see much but from what I could see, he seemed…familiar. He hadn’t even touched his drink. “A lot of people do, but when I look at my future, all I see is the same shitty dive bars, and the same shitty apartment.” He tilted his head towards me slightly but I still couldn’t see his eyes. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit.” Normally, I’m quick with responses. But I narrowed my eyes, leaning towards the stranger, trying to decipher where I had seen this man before and why his presence was so familiar.

“What happened?” I sat back, confused at his sudden question. “You have a scar. What happened?” The question was intrusive, borderline offensive. “Oh, uh, this old thing?” I lifted my finger to my face touching the raised skin that started just above my eyebrow and tore straight down over my eye and ended at the middle of my cheek. “It’s nothing. Just a constant reminder.”

“Of what?”

“Of why I am here…plus…it makes me look kinda badass.” I chuckled, bawling my fists up and holding them in front of my face.

“y/n! Let’s go! I wanna get home before the crazies wake up!” Alex interrupted the conversation, grabbing my arm.

“Well, I guess that’s my que.” I smiled and waved at the man, even though he hasn’t looked up to me from his drink since we started talking. I walked behind Alex, my brows furrowed together as I racked my brain, searching for a moment or a memory that I could connect with the man from the bar. Only turning around when we reached the door, he was gone. His glass, still full. Not a single sip taken.

I was woken up the next morning by a pillow to the head. I wrenched open my eyes to find Alex with a crazed look in his eyes, smiling wildly, pillow in hand. “y/nohmygoshourapplicationwasreviewedandsomemanwithanaccentsaidwegettoauditio-”

“Stop stop!” I yelled, my brain still fuzzy from being viciously yanked out of my dreamstate and looked at the clock. 4:02AM. holy shit, its early

“Just breathe, slow down, and start again”

“Okay,” he breathed “ our application was reviewed and some man with a fancy accent who said his name was allen or fred or something called last night and said they want us to audition! I’ve been waiting all night to tell you but I couldn’t hold it in any longer” I don’t get excited. It’s not in my nature. I hate getting my hopes up just to be disappointed. But I couldn’t help the smile spreading on my face and the scream emitting from my lips as i grabbed alex’s forearms and jumped with joy around my room. Alex reached over to the stereo and turned it on and soon, the apartment was filled with music and dancing and celebrating. I smiled and swayed my body around the room, dancing around alex, georgia and trevor. Stopping to look out the window, my smile couldn’t get any wider as I could just barely see the Wayne tower off in the distance. For the first time in months, I looked over Gotham with fresh eyes. Eyes full of hope. Eyes that settled on something a lot closer. A figure, standing on a building. Him. I could see the cape, blowing in the wind. I would almost think he was looking at me. But that would be foolish thinking. Surely, he’d forgotten about me. Just another girl to add to the list of people he’s saved.

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

1:13AM.

I’d spent the rest of that day mostly writing the song. Now that it was real, now that we were actually getting to audition. Every now and then I would look up from the scribbled lyrics, into the shitty apartment and smile. This could really be it. After hours and hours of crumpled papers into the trash can, I finally perfected it. The song we would play for Bruce Wayne.

I made sure when we got this apartment, that the room I was in would have a perfect view of the signal. The giant bat in the air. I could see it shining from my window. I was staring at it for hours. Fuck it. I stood up out of bed and slipped on some leggings and my converse. I need to see him again. Tiptoeing through the apartment is almost pointless, the floors creak and moan with every step and it seems almost worse at night. I finally got out without alerting any of my roommates and began my descent down the many stairs of the apartment building. My plan was to figure out where the signal was shining from and work my way out into the city from there.

TWO HOURS, I spent searching for the signal, and right when I was ready to give up, I saw it. Shining from the top of an old building. I walked around the structure, trying to see if he was close by. Nothing. Nothing but a stupid unmarked police car presenting itself in the form of a ford focus in an alley next to the building. I huffed and tried to decide what direction I would go from there. This was stupid. Why did I of all people think I could track down The Batman?? My thoughts were interrupted by the vibrations of a car engine. I ducked behind a dumpster and pressed my hand over my heart.

Peering around the dumpster, my hand touched something slimy and my soul all but left my body as I kept myself from immediately screaming. I watched as the sleek car came to a stop right behind the unmarked police car and turned off. My breath hitched as he emerged from the drivers side door. I was certain my heart was bruising my ribcage as it pounded against it relentlessly. I pulled my body back behind the dumpster and placed my back against it as I smiled. I want to be closer. I decided the best gameplan would be to walk out inconspicuously from behind the dumpster in the alleyway and follow him at a far distance. I inhaled quickly and pressed my palms to the side of my head to calm myself down and stepped out from behind the dumpster with purpose. Only, I was halted to a stop by a brick wall. No. A chest. His chest.

“What are you doing here?” He looked down on me with none of the gentleness he had held in his eyes during our first encounter. It was the first time I had ever truly known the intimidation of Vengeance. Despite my fear, I looked around the alleyway like I was lost. “That is a good question actually! What am I doing here? Must’ve been sleep walking, haha…well, I’ll just be goi-” I tried to step around him, but he grabbed my wrist. “It’s dangerous out here. What are you doing here?” He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who enjoys repeating himself so I decided my best bet was to answer his question. “I…I was looking for you…I wanted to see you..”

The hold on my wrist faltered as soon as the words left my mouth. “It’s just that, since you saved me. I’ve been thinking about how I completely overstepped with that kiss..” Lie. I loved the fact that I kissed him…I’d do it again. “...and I feel like maybe I was going through a lot of emotions and I maybe shouldn’t have do-” My sentence was cut short when the hand that was on my wrist suddenly came up to cup the side of my face. It was gentle and he looked me straight in the eyes, His eyes, while mesmerizing, looked as if he was having some unspoken, internal war with himself. As if he couldn’t even believe his own actions. His thumb, rough with the texture of the glove, traced over the bottom part of my scar, and I could swear I saw him lean towards me. But just as quickly as his hand was on my face, it was taken away. I let go of the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Come on..” he grabbed my wrist again and pulled me behind him. His eyes were scanning the roads, as if he was searching for a threat.

“Wh-Where are we- go-oing??” my words stumbled as my feet struggled to keep up with his long strides. He walked up to passenger side of the sleek car I watched him pull up in.

“I’m taking you back home.” he said as he swung open the door. I slipped into the car, trying to conceal the grin that was creeping onto my face.

The drive back to my apartment was reckless, invigorating. To say that I wasn’t slightly aroused by him at this moment would be a complete and utter lie. The excitement in my chest burnt into disappointment as he pulled up to my apartment building, his oceanic, blue eyes scanning the area again.

“So, I guess..this is goodbye..” I said sadly as I reached for the door handle, I glanced back at him to see if he was as disappointed as I was. But he had both hands on the wheel and his eyes were pointed straight ahead. Stupid. This isn’t a fairytale, y/n. Get out of his car. I sighed as I opened the door swinging one leg out and getting ready to stand when I felt a pressure on my wrist again.

“Wait..” I spun around in the seat to listen to what he would say when his other hand found purchase on the side of my neck and jaw, he got intoxicatingly close to me and stopped himself, like he was fighting the same unspoken war, i reached up and placed my hand onto his wrist. Slowly, he closed the small gap in between our lips. Letting out a sharp exhale through his nose, he kissed me like he won the war. His gloved hand sliding further back, into the nape of my neck, our kiss was full of desperation…and then it was over..

He pulled away quickly and reached into the back of the car…

Oh my god, he’s going to zap my memory away, men in black style.

But instead, he pulled out something small and shoved it into my hands.

“Keep this...use it, if you ever need me.” I glanced down at it. It was sleek, black and resembled a smart watch. I immediately secured it to my wrist and held it up. “Does wanting another kiss like that count as needing you?” The corner of his mouth quirked up a little in what was almost a smile…almost…

“Goodnight, y/n”

I smiled and stepped out of the car, I walked through the gate and only turned around when I reached the door. He was still there. Waiting for me to enter the safety of my building. I gave a small wave as I stepped in. As I closed the door, I put my back to it and smiled. I listened to the roar of his car as he drove away. Oh my god. I kissed Batman.

taglist: @n1ght5h4d3-24 @blue-aconite @daughter-of-the-king-bc @that-girl-named-alex @skywalker-spengler

[the-bau-quinjet]

My Name Isn't

Summary: You find out the guys (Bucky, Steve, and Sam) have a bet as to who can kiss you first, so you confront them at Tony's team building karaoke night.

Warnings: some swearing and drinking

Word Count: 3187

a/n: This was inspired by my love of the classic using karaoke to express your feelings trope and the song My Name Isn't by LOVA. I did change the lyric "yours" into "doll" though because it made sense in the story.

"Not a chance, Wilson." Bucky rolled his eyes as Steve walked into the room, unbothered by the familiar sounds of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes arguing.

"C'mon tin man, you afraid you're gonna lose?' Sam couldn't help but tease the super soldier.

"It's a stupid bet! Steve tell him it's a stupid bet." Bucky stared at his best friend, silently begging for him to agree.

Steve's tone could only be described as exasperated when he responded, "what is it this time?"

"I bet Barnes and Noble over here," Sam stopped talking to dodge the book Bucky threw at him, "that I could get Y/N to kiss me before he could, and he's too chicken shit to take the bet."

"It's a stupid bet!" Bucky was gearing up to throw another book when Steve chimed in. "I don't know Buck, it could get you to finally act on your feelings for her."

Bucky rolled his eyes, responding with his typical denial "I don't have any feelings, punk."

Sam and Steve shared an obvious "this man is lying" look before turning back to Bucky.

"Fine, Cap since Bucky won't take the bet, will you?" The mischievous gleam in Sam's eye shown through as Steve weighed his options.

"It is a pretty stupid bet, but I'm doing this for you Buck." Clapping Bucky on the shoulder, he turned to Sam. "I'm in." As Steve went to shake Sam's hand, Bucky gave in.

"Fine! Fine. All three of us. The first one to kiss her wins." Bucky reluctantly agreed.

"Now, what does the winner get?" Sam posed the question, mischief clear in his eyes.

-

The first time you had an inkling that something was afoot was your training with Steve and Bucky later that same day. Steve wasn't overly touchy or anything that would make you uncomfortable, this is America's Golden Boy after all, but he kept calling you "honey" or some variation of it. You'd throw a punch and rather than correcting your form in his usual commanding Captain voice, he would feed you a random compliment followed by a "try it like this hun."

You left the gym confused and with more energy than one would typically have after training with Steve Rogers. Luckily for you, Nat and Wanda noticed it too.

"What was that about?" Wanda asked as soon as the three of you were out of earshot.

"I don't have a clue." Your expression of complete confusion was enough to convince the two women you were telling the truth.

"I always thought Barnes had a thing for you. I wouldn't expect Steve of all people to try to mess that up. Especially with how obvious you are!" Nat chimed in. You've never regretted anything more than getting drunk and admitting your feelings for the brunette super soldier to the two women.

"Ugh, are the two of you ever gonna forget about that?" Your question was rhetorical as you nearly slammed the door to your room, but it didn't stop the two women from shouting "not a chance" and "only if you tell him" through the door.

-

The second time you noticed the weird behavior was the next day. You were running through some basic defense moves with some new Shield agents when Sam walked in with Bucky.

Now, normally Sam avoids you in the gym because he knows you'll kick his ass. All your time spent training with Nat mixed with your advanced perception skills meant you are a force to be reckoned with in the gym. This time though, he asked to spar before running through his typical warm up routine.

"You sure, Wilson? I wouldn't want to bruise your ego any further." You joked with him, unsure of his motives.

"Oh I'm sure, baby. Do your worst."

So you did. You had him on the mat in 4 minutes even, not letting the "baby" comment phase you until later in the night when you were with Wanda and Nat.

"First, Steve keeps calling me honey. Now Wilson is in on it with baby! What the hell is going on?'

The three of you shared identical shrugs, choosing to ignore it for now in favor of girls night.

-

Your days continued with the random comments from Sam and Steve. Of course, after the first 24 hours you noticed a pattern emerging. The two men would only use the pet names if Bucky was in the room. If Bucky couldn't overhear what was being said, everything was normal, but all bets were off if he so much as stepped in the room. It was constant affection and compliments from the two men.

You were thinking about the pattern you'd discovered, along with what it could mean, when Tony barged into the common room like a man on fire.

He surveyed the room, noting the presence of nearly every team member. The only three missing? Sam, Steve, and Bucky. You had a feeling they were most definitely up to something. "Oh perfect, most of you are here already! I have decided we don't do enough team building. Saving the world is stressful and we deserve to relax, so... drumroll please!" He waited for an extended period of time, until you, Wanda, and Vision gave him a lackluster drumroll. "That could use some work, but I'm not going to let it bring me down. We're doing karaoke! I rented out a bar for tonight, so clear your schedules ladies and gentlemen! We start at 8."

To say he was met with mixed results would be underselling the range of reactions. Nat looked ready to kill him. Thor was so excited, he reminded you of a golden retriever playing fetch. Most everybody else fell somewhere in the middle.

"Y/N, be a dear and let the three stooges know would ya? I don't know where they are and I don't feel like finding them." Tony didn't wait for a response before leaving the room just as rapidly as he entered it.

"I guess that's my cue. I'll be back and we can at least get ready together?" You looked to Nat and Wanda for confirmation before leaving to find Steve, Bucky, and Sam.

-

You checked Sam's room first because it's the closest to the common area, but there was no sign of life. Steve and Bucky's rooms sat similarly untouched. You went to the gym, the pool, the game room, and circled back to the kitchen but they were nowhere to be seen. Finally, you gave up the impromptu game of hide and seek asking FRIDAY where they were.

"FRIDAY, do you know where Steve, Bucky, and Sam are?"

"Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, and Lieutenant General Wilson are on the roof." The AI responded so fast, it had you wondering why didn't just ask her 40 minutes ago when their rooms were all empty.

"What the hell are they doing on the roof?" You huffed as you made your way back to the elevator.

"They are the discussing the terms of their bet." FRIDAY's response surprised you. You hadn't meant to actually receive an answer, but now that you did you were curious.

"What bet?" You continued the line of questioning as the elevator rose to the roof access point.

"The three made a bet to see who could get you to kiss them first."

Suddenly, all the pet names and compliments made sense.

"Son of a bi-" You cut yourself off as the elevator door opened, leading you directly to the three men in question. They turned abruptly, clearly caught off guard by anyone coming to the roof.

"Finally. I've been looking for you three everywhere!" You kept the new found information to yourself for the time being. "Tony decided we're doing karaoke tonight. We're supposed to be at the bar he rented out by 8pm." You smiled, taking in the slightly guilty expressions on each of their faces. Even if FRIDAY hadn't told you, it would be painstakingly obvious you caught them talking about you.

"Thanks doll, we'll make sure we're there." You felt the butterflies in your stomach at the pet name, but quickly shut it down. You wouldn't be giving in to their bet that easily.

"No problem, see you boys soon." You winked, pressing the button to bring you back to the main floor. You had a plan to make after all.

-

"Well, it's karaoke why don't you just sing a song to call them out on it?" Wanda suggested another idea as you all got ready to head to the bar.

"That could work. You just need the perfect song." Nat chimed in, quickly applying some mascara.

"Wanda, you're a genius, and I think I have just the one." You grinned, pulling the song up to play while you finished getting ready.

-

Upon entering the bar, you immediately started second guessing your plan. That is, until the pet names came out to play. Sam was back at it with calling you baby, and Steve right there beside him with honey.

When you put your name down to sing, Wanda and Nat were right there with you, hyping you up and providing some liquid courage. Four drinks in and you finally felt just tipsy enough to actually follow through with your plan.

With the encouraging words from Nat and Wanda playing through your mind, you walked up to the stage, pulling up your chosen song on the karaoke machine.

You decided to play the beginning of the song off as a coincidence, not wanting to clue the guys in too early.

"One, two, three have been staring at me. It's been going all night."

You made eye contact with Nat and Wanda, fully relying on the feminist in you to knock these guys down a few pegs. By the time the chorus rolled around, you were ready.

Making direct eye contact with Sam, you put as much sass as possible into the next line.

"My name isn't 'baby,' you cannot say whatever you feel like. I am not the things you call me."

Switching your target from Sam to Steve, you kept going with the performance.

"My name isn't 'honey,' I will always do whatever I feel like. Honestly, you don't know me."

Clearly the three of them realized you knew about their bet, but you were on a roll. Switching focus to Bucky, you switched up the words a little bit to put him on blast as well.

"My name isn't... doll. My name isn't... doll."

The girls must have filled in the rest of the group, because you now had Bruce, Thor, Vision, Tony, Pepper, Clint, Wanda, and Nat cheering you on. They were whopping and hollering in agreement with the lyrics.

"We ain't got the time for you messing around so cut the deal."

"Cut the deal!!" You heard Tony yelling out as an echo, shaking your head with a slight chuckle.

"So don't come here and say, 'boys will be boys.' Behind every act there's always a choice."

The three men in question at least had the decency to look ashamed of their actions. Of course, that wasn't enough for you to not put them on blast through another round of the chorus.

The high from calling them out wore off right around the line:

"Do you really think that you can get your way by playing the same game."

Singing those words made you realize exactly what just happened. You held it together, put up a front long enough to get through the last chorus. Singing the last line to Bucky, you felt like your emotions were all over your face. The annoyance that the bet existed. The pain at him being part of it. The love you'd been trying to hide. All of it felt like it was right out in the open.

"My name isn't... Doll. My name isn't, my name isn't... Doll."

You took a quick bow in thanks for all the applause, before running off the stage. You didn't stop at the table with Nat and Wanda, nor did you stop for the three men trying to apologize. You made it outside, running about five blocks before even taking in your surroundings. Noticing a McDonald's, you sent a quick prayer that the ice cream machine was actually functioning before ducking inside.

-

The team stood with mouths hanging open at your sudden departure.

"What the hell just happened?" Tony posed the question to the group, knocking them out of their stupor.

Bucky was the first to follow you outside, his panic growing when he didn't see you leaning against any of the brick walls.

"Where is she?" Steve asked, spinning in circles right alongside Bucky while the rest of the group filed out the door.

"I don't know!" Bucky turned on Steve and Sam. "I never should have agreed to that stupid bet. Dammit!" Running his hands through his hair, he took off down the street calling a quick, "I'll look this way" over his shoulder.

He moved quickly down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for your sparkly, dark red dress. He looked through the windows of the many store fronts as he passed them. About five blocks later, he was about to turn around, assuming you went a different direction when he saw the familiar golden "m". A memory from about three weeks ago was quick to flash through his mind.

The team just came back from a two and a half week mission yesterday, meaning Tony was bound to throw a party today. It went about the same as most Tony Stark parties go; a lot of schmoozing until most guests left and the team could actually let loose.

You let a little looser than normal at the after party. After the mission required you to pretend to be married to Bucky, you felt like you deserved it. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings from him, especially when he insisted on walking you to your room after the party.

In a last ditch effort to avoid any drunk escapades, you asked him to take you to McDonald's instead of your room.

"Please Bucky?" You asked, drawing out the words and adding a small pout for good measure. "I just want a McFlurry and some fries! Please!"

"Sure, doll. We can go to McDonald's." You jumped up and down clapping, hugging him as you praised him for being so kind.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! You are the nicest, most perfect man to ever live. Let's gooooo!!" He smiled at your antics, leading you to one of the many cars Tony kept stocked, not quite trusting you to ride a motorcycle at the moment.

After getting the food, the two of you ate together in the car. You, of course, insisting he try dipping the fries in the ice cream.

Reluctantly, he admitted it wasn't that bad before driving the two of you home. He dropped you off at your door, receiving a whispered "thank you" and a quick kiss to the cheek from you.

He smiled at the memory before walking inside. He found you in a booth toward the back, unsurprisingly dipping fries into your ice cream

"Y/N, I'm so sorry." You didn't even look up when he started speaking, choosing instead to study the m&ms in your dessert. "Really. It was a stupid bet. Hell, I didn't even want to do it, but then that punk and birdman teamed up against me and I couldn't let them do it without me! It would've killed me to know one of them kissed you. It was so stupid and I should've just shut it down. I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more than that." He trailed off, waiting for you to say something.

You gestured to the seat across from you, pushing some fries toward him. "It was a stupid bet."

You waited until his mouth was full before asking "Why would it have killed you?" Watching him nearly choke on his fries was oddly satisfying.

"What?" He tried to deflect the question. You shook your head, passing him a napkin.

"You said it would have killed you to know one of them kissed me. Why?" You looked him in the eye as you ate another fry.

"Well, you see, I... um, maybe have um... feelings." It was his turn to stare intently at the m&ms. He mumbled a quick "get yourself together" under his breath before continuing. "I like you. Hell, I think I love you. I don't know when it started, but suddenly you are all I can think about. I worry about you constantly when your on a mission without me, even though I know you can take care of yourself. I see little things that remind me of you everywhere. Like yesterday, I saw a buttercup on the side of the road and I couldn't stop thinking about the time you spent a good twenty minutes ranting about how spring is the worst season."

Suddenly, you were on a tangent. "Because it is! It's always raining, it's muggy, it's always freezing in the morning and way too hot in the afternoon so you have to carry all these extra layers-"

"I love you. That's why it would've killed me. I don't even want to think about you with another-"

It was your turn to cut him off, doing so by leaning across the small table to kiss him. It was quick, but you still felt fireworks.

"I love you too." Your words were sweet, but shifted when you said the rest of your sentence. "I just have one more question." The smirk on your face made him nervous, but he was more than willing to answer anything.

"What do you get for winning?"

-

After talking with Bucky, you texted Nat and Wanda to let them know you were okay and the two of you were headed back to the compound. You beat everyone else back, but decided to wait for them in the common area.

Steve and Sam came in with their heads low, struggling to make eye contact.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry. We never should have made that bet." Steve started, aware of all the eyes on him.

"Me too. It was stupid and thoughtless." Sam added on.

"It was, but you are forgiven." You reached for Bucky's hand, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Bucky told me the winner of your little bet gets to pick the music for all forms of travel on the next three missions." You grinned at their confused expressions. "Bucky, being the winner, has so graciously bestowed that gift to me now. Get ready boys. I'm talking High School Musical. Hamilton. I'll have the two of you singing Taylor Swift in the shower." You, along with the rest of the team, laughed at their expense. Their grim expressions had you smiling, "oh please, I know you secretly love it!"

"Now, I have to go to bed. I have a date tomorrow." You winked at Bucky before sauntering off down the hall, the cheers of your teammates following you.

[starglitterz]

sheeeeeesh can i req like.. diluc with back hugs like he's just exhausted with the tavern and u h m darknihhy hero duties (batman say what ‼️) ANYWAHS LAMAKSHS and s/o just comes and *back hugs* nedd i say more I'm so sorry for the typos i swsat🤕

HIIII MY LOVE !!!!! can i call you typo anon pretty please KJAKJDSSD 😭 all your asks are so chaotic i love it /pos /g

yes diluc the darknihhy hero so true <3 /j HAHASKJDKJDS ILY DONT BE MAD AT ME LMAOOO

ok sorry i'll shut up and write now 😔

dedicated to my love atlas @xiaophobic for helping me w stuff for this fic !!!!! ILYSM MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW 💓♥💘❣❤💝💖💕

diluc.

"luluuuuu," you mumble, dragging out the syllables of your affectionate nickname for your boyfriend. diluc ragnvindr, known by all as the wine tycoon of mondstadt, and known by few as the darknight hero, actually adores your pet name for him - he thinks it's cute coming from you. he's standing over the counter at the angel's share, wiping down the wooden surface with an old rag until it's gleaming like a piece of treasure in the ocean's depths. the tavern is devoid of anyone other than the two of you, as the other workers left diluc to clean up after he encouraged them to go home for the night.

burying your face in his back, your arms snake around his waist, with one hand tugging on his black coat. beyond the feeling of home which comes with embracing diluc, you can also sense exhaustion emanating from his figure. "yes, my love?" he replies, concern flooding his tone, and you actually want to scold him. how can he always forget to take care of himself, yet still prioritise your wellbeing and ensure you're doing alright even as he seems to be a second away from collapsing of fatigue? "i want you to rest," you murmur, pressing your cheek against the rough material of his raven black coat. the coat suits him, all coarse and prickly on the inside "but y/n, i have to finish this-" diluc begins, only for you to interrupt, "diluc, i'll even do it for you if it means you'll go to bed."

diluc's eyes widen, and he turns around to face your pouting face. oh no, he thinks, you're making that irresistible expression! how on earth is he supposed to deny you anything when you look this cute?! "y/n... fine. i guess i can stop for tonight," he mutters, furrowing his brow as he ponders the likelihood of mondstadt being invaded by hilichurls if he doesn't go out and perform his self-appointed duties as the darknight hero. however, the smile that graces your features upon hearing his reply is enough to chase away all his reservations about halting work.

later that night when you pull him into bed and snuggle up next to him, diluc thinks he should take breaks more often if it means he gets to spend more time with your warmth beside him like this.

quill speaks !

WHY DID THIS BECOME SO LONG IT WAS INITIALLY MEANT TO BE ONE PARAGRAPH HELP /lh

it's okay tho dilucs kinda cute he deserves the rest (but if he breaks my pity ONE more time i will beat him up no cap all fax) hashtag speaking from the heart

anyways do i add my taglist since this is just a drabble or what... HELP ill add it since it became too long i think LMKJSDKS

taglist; @noirkkat @bookuya @ohmykazuha @glazelilyy @mikachuchu@oreoz-unfortunately @tiny-aroace @xiaophobic @test-tube @yanphobics @childe-support @aelatus @eternism @icecappa

ANYWAYS ILY ALL I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS !!!

i hope you enjoy your stay at quill’s dessert cafe, and do check out my ongoing streamer!xiao x reader smau cynosure + the menu if you’d like ! 🍭

© starglitterz 2021. do not repost or modify in any way.

[enjennie]

right here

pairing: jeno x reader

synopsis: lee jeno just wanted to help you with the choreography, but now you can't stop wondering if his lips still feel the same as it did five years ago.

genre: fluff, idol!jeno and idol!reader, mutual pining.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: purposely written in low caps

a/n: this is the part 2 of my first and last. haha enjoy! read part 1 here

your heels sounded against the floor as you strutted around the room, inspecting yourself closely in the mirror. something felt wrong, something is definitely missing. your performance is lacking, and with only one day– or night for that matter, to prepare... you're getting a bit stressed.

your members had clocked off about an hour ago to get their well deserved rest and yet here you are, stuck doing that one move you couldn't quite perfect like you wanted.

with one last wave of your hand and kick of the leg you fall to the floor dramatically. exhausted and frustrated, you are about to have a breakdown when you hear the door creak and your head turns in its direction almost instantly to see who'd caught you in an embarassing state. you hope it's just the security guard telling you to shoo off already.

instead, your eye meets those of a familiar someone's. jeno is in his track pants and red hoodie with his duffel bag swung lazily around his broad shoulders and he's smiling at you.

"hey," you say before getting on your feet quickly to fix yourself up a little. it's been a while since you've seen him, let alone talk to him. korea's beloved idol with the crescent eyes, lee jeno, has charmed everyone since his debut and since then has only gotten increasingly popular. you wonder if he remembers your first kiss. to you, it was as clear as day.

"preparing for the music festival tomorrow?" he states the obvious, walking in before plopping his bag down on the floor. you merely nod, reaching your phone to pause the music that was playing. "yeah i can't seem to get it right,"

jeno looks around, seeing that the only bag belonged to you which meant you've probably been alone for some time now.

"can i see? i could give you some pointers," he walks closer to you, smiling sheepishly. you laugh, tucking a strand of hair that had gone loose behind your ear. "yeah? i don't think so, jeno. performance is a secret until tomorrow," you playfully poke his chest, a habit you somehow still carried with you since you were trainees. his chest is harder than you remember, though. it has you growing flustered and retreating your hands to play with their own.

"then just the parts you're not sure of," he meddles and who are you to say no when he's smiling at you so sweetly? images of when you were younger come flashing in your brain automatically takes you back to the first kiss. it was in a different room, but the same building. first kiss. as if there's ever been a second. (newsflash: there hasn't and you weren't exactly against going for one). for old times sake?

you move without a word, and jeno watches you intently as you carry out the moves with such grace he wondered to himself what the hell you were talking about.

"that was perfect, though," he raises his eyebrow once you finish, confused and ultimately amazed.

you groan, getting on your feet and shaking your head. jeno could see the frustration seeping through and he couldn't blame you. he's one to talk about over working, when he does so himself.

he draws closer to you, trying out the movements himself. "maybe you could extend your arm out more in this part," he directs and you're quick to mimic his actions but it doesn't seem right. jeno's eyes avert to your form through the mirror and shakes his head patiently.

"like this," he places a gentle hand on your waist before putting your arms in place. your heart rate quickens at the sudden space between you both. you can already feel the warmth from his hoodie on your backside and the hand that holds your waist lingers for a second longer before he realizes it too.

the air becomes tense, an unexplainable vibe between the both of you arise and it's something you haven't felt since the moment you both pulled away from the kiss.

"so, like this?"

in your poor attempt at clearing the air, you move your arms again and turn to execute the dance only for you to get tangled in his arms which only constricts the space between you both. great. now you're facing him, and you feel his breath fanning over your face before it hitches in his throat.

jeno breaks out into a grin, chuckling lightly. "i think I'm getting deja vu ,"

he let's you go, and you're almost disappointed to be free from his arms. you wanted to be engulfed in them again almost instantly.

"they say that when you get deja vu, you're exactly where you're supposed to be," you state, just sharing the random fact you have tucked in your brain. jeno looks down at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"so i'm meant to have you in my arms like this?" jeno wraps his arms around you again, pulling you close to his chest and knocking the wind out of yours.

"lee jeno, are you flirting with me right now?" the sudden confidence was... well, sudden and came out of nowhere. but your heart is going into overdrive and air is needed in your system so you make yourself take a slow breath.

his eyes crinkle when he smiles, face inching closer that you almost want to scream. "would it be so bad if i was?"

no. not at all.

at this point he's so close to you that you can smell the mint gum he'd been chewing, and the cologne he uses. you wanted to close the space between you so bad already, but you were still in his grip.

jeno moves his face closer, before a voice booms from outside the room and has you both pulling apart. it's the security guard, and he's come to throw you out the building. great timing.

"we'll be right out," jeno calls, and that's when you notice how red his ears had gotten.

the both of you rush out of the practice room with no other words other than 'close the lights please' and 'don't forget your phone'. and nothing could have prepared you for the awkward elevator ride down.

the numbers flickered from 3, 2, 1 to G and you both step out.

so is no one going to talk about how you both just almost recreated something that happened five years ago or? no? okay.

"i'll see you tomorrow?" jeno extends a hand out to you. is he about to dap you up? you stare at the hand in confusion before giving it a shake. you've never been more confused in your life.

"yeah," you manage to spit out. he gives your hair a ruffle before turning to head towards the exit. he hasn't done that in a while, and the gesture makes all the blood rush to your head and ears.

great. what was the move again? now you'd have two things on your mind: that stupid choreography and lee jeno.

as you watch his figure disappear into the exit, the boy hangs his head low and mentally curses himself for being a coward and not going for the kiss when he had the chance. you heave a deep sigh, before go on your own way.

part 3 - coming soon.

[subwaysurf45]

Ghost Rider

summary: on a mission you drop and few flirty comments to Bucky,  he might not pick up on them but Steve helps him figure it out. 

pairing: Ghost Rider!Reader x Bucky Barnes. 

words: 2375

warning: fighting, violence, burns(?), sexual innuendos 

Masterlist!

the whole “demon with the skull on fire” look was kinda hard to keep hidden, not that you wanted to. You were recruited by S.H.E.I.L.D. after a fight, the Ghost Rider needed to be stopped but you had info on the real bad guys that made you who you were, you helped the Avengers with hunting. 

your performing days were over, after crashes and trauma you tried to hide away...like before, the head on fire thing was very memorable; but you wanted to forget. 

Tony and Banner worked together to find a face for you, and after sometime -and a little input to make your hair fire-red- you looked normal, for an Avenger. 

The team sat in the conference room, Cap was leading the discussion. He was going over the plan and all the different ways it could end and the proper ways to handle the multiple endings. 

Bucky was sat beside you, he always found a way to be near, not too close but just enough. “I like the face, forgot to tell you- I mean, I didn’t see the skull because you were in a cell and only Banner and Tony saw it but still...looks nice,” he whispered, you smiled and nodded. When you looked back to Steve, out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky shake his head, he muttered  something to himself before listening in again. 

“Like the hair,” you whispered after a couple seconds so you didn’t get caught like school, Bucky had just cut the long locks to a nice trim. “looks strong and healthy, like someone could pull it.” you joked 

“Thanks, it really stays out of my eyes-”

“Buck.” Steve slightly raised his voice, “c’mon, man.”

“Sorry,” Bucky whispered before looking out of the corner of his eye to you, you felt like kids trying to be proper in front of the adults. Bucky flashed a smirk before really listening. 

*****

You were all in the quinjet, your combat pants were full of knives, you preferred knives rather than guns; it just happened like that. Bucky sat across from you, you tried not to look at him because of his intense stare you thought your new face was going to melt off if you really focused on it. 

Everything was ready, your uniform was set. or so you thought, Bucky stood and kneeled beside you, His nimble fingers going to your left calf to zip up an open pocket. His hand rested on your knee as he took one final scan, looking at your legs and pockets. His thumb swayed back and forth as he checked, as he stood he used your thigh to get a little push up even though he didn’t need it. 

“Wow,” he dusted off his own knee from the dirty floor, “great thighs, you should teach me your workout routine.” He smirked before going back to his seat, his tongue flicked up and rested on his tooth, he was really going for it. 

and you weren’t one to lose in a battle of flirty comments, the first thing that came to mind was blurted out with the coolest tone. 

“they make great earmuffs,” you winked, but Bucky just nodded, he didn’t get the joke and you were now wondering if that complement he gave you wasn’t supposed to be sexy, he just thought you were strong.

*****

You were all camped out by the building which was deep in the forest, everyone was in position. The rain was beating down hard, you could hear thunder from afar but you knew it was getting closer. You were slightly slipping up in the mud, your boot would get caught and would almost fall off. 

the earpiece was buzzing, everyone was confirming their status and what they saw. The tall trees covered the moonlight so you would have to rely on the earpieces way more than a typical mission. 

“west entrance, clear.” you whispered. 

slowly everyone worked their way inside, your door was open so you went right in. You did have a gun on you but you knew if anyone came to fight you’d switch to knives, but long distance needed guns. 

All you needed was files, this group had too much information. 

Bucky was on the second floor, he and Nat were getting files loaded on the hard drives. She was typing away while Bucky covered her six, he scanned around and around even though the building was extremely dead and quiet. It didn’t look dead, there were no cobwebs or any tipped chairs, it looked like an office that was in use. 

“this isn’t right, they would have someone protecting the files.” Bucky muttered and left Nat’s back, going to the doorway where he came in to look again. When he turned, she was there. “I have this feeling, I don’t know wha-aah!” 

You heard a scream from upstairs, you dropped what you were doing and headed up, gun ready to open fire. Nat was looking around and breathing hard. 

“what is it?” you asked. 

“Bucky- he was there- and then not there- they’re like assassins, they are so quiet.” She was paranoid, you’d never seen her like that before. “I have all the info, but we need to find Bucky.”

the earpieces were constantly running, everyone else was listening. “We have to roll out, we’ll get Bucky soon.” Sam said, “this place is freaking me out.” 

“We can’t just leave,” you shake your head, but Natasha was already leading you out.

As you reached the outside Natasha let go of her death grip, you shook off her hands and looked back to the building, something was wrong; there should be sounds of movement.

“It’s too dark in there and this won’t end well, I’m calling the shots and I say no.'' Steve put his foot down and towered over, you were a little shorter but the build of that man made you feel small.

You turned back and headed to the door, Steve tried to grab hold of you but he retracted his hand with a hiss. He looked at the palm of his hand and saw it was red, there were already pus bubbles forming.

“You burnt me?” Steve yelled.

You closed your eyes as Steve yelled nothing at you, you needed to help Bucky and you were going to do whatever you needed to do. Your head started to heat gradually, like boiling water. The fake couldn’t hold your heat, the jaw began to melt exposing the skull you used to sport; a little melted near your left eye. But what changed the most was your hair, like a bonfire it was big and tall; you were now taller than Steve. Red flames licked the air as the blue flames in the middle stayed almost still, a ball of light from the actual fire on your head lit around you, allowing you to see.

“I did burn you, third degree.” You sneered and walked to the door, “and if you’re gonna leave Bucky and make me save him, get me Steve’s bike.” You left them with the sound of the door slamming to echo around the vacant forest, it rang louder than thunder and rain.

You walked around, trying to hear for any sign of life. Your heart dropped when you heard a muffled scream, it had to be Bucky. Your feet stomped and echoed up the stairs and the screaming got louder and more despite, when you turned the corner you saw Bucky strapped by the ankles and wrists to a medical table, his eyes were wide with fear and his mouth was stuffed with some rag. 

“oh god,” you muttered and ripped out the cloth in his mouth. 

Bucky didn’t even give himself time to breathe, “ghost! It’s fucking ghosts- and they went through me- i can see your jaw bone- and then they could-your head in on fire- and then I’m tied- and- BEHIND YOU!” 

you turned and saw a ghost, your flaming hair swooshed and shot out sparks because of how fast you turned. The ghost had a knife in his hand, and three emerged from behind him. They were opaque and seemed like ghost zombies, parts of them were missing. 

There was a stand off for three seconds before the fighting started, and Bucky could barely see what was going on. You danced around the ghosts with ease and it seemed as though you knew what was coming, he wanted to help but as much as he tugged on the restraints he couldn’t break free. HIs body was about to give out, he was in shock and he was tired like everyone else; but being tied up made him remember his Hydra days and that was enough to make him become small. 

“I got you,” you muttered and untied him, the ghosts were gone. 

“how did you-...?” Bucky didn’t need to finish his sentence. 

“I took one of their knives and used it on them, they couldn’t die from our real weapons so I had to use theirs, it was easy.” you got him out and helped him up,  Bucky was putting most of his body weight onto you. 

“You’re warm,” Bucky tiredly muttered, he was about to pass out. 

“I know, I have fire hair,” you said with a smirk, the fire helped you out of the building. Just for safe measures you leaned down and allowed your hair to light the wall, the rain that was pouring outside would put out your fire and you’d just have normal hair but it would also put out the fire that would start in the building; you didn’t want it to burn the entire forest down. 

Bucky was about to collapse on you, his eyelids hovered and barely stayed open.  he looked sick, his face was green and extremely pale. 

“I-I need to sit..” Bucky slurred and fell against the bottom of the staircase, “I think they drugged me...” You tried to pick him back up again but he was heavier than you. 

“Buck, we gotta go,” you warned. 

he sloppy grin covered his face, “you’re cute when you’re stressed, I love it!” he sang, “you’re always so cute, I just wanna put you in my back pocket and take you everywhere with me- Oh! I could put you in my backpack and... oh that a good idea, good one, James.” Bucky giggled as he thought of taking you everywhere with him. 

“You’re definitely drugged,” you giggled and got him up again, when he protested you thought of staying for a bit longer but the fire you light was fast approaching, “Shit!'' you yanked Bucky up and headed for the door, only then did you notice a oxygen pipe running down the wall, “Bucky was gotta go!” 

you busted through the door and smiled widely at Steve’s bike waiting there for you, you carried Bucky over and put him on the seat and you got in front of him. 

“My butt is wet!” Bucky yelled like a child, it had been there for a while because of the pool of water on the seat.

“Hold on!” you yelled, the engine revved and as your feet left the ground the bike took off. There was mud everywhere, little potholes and murky water splashing up. you spotted a ramp-type-mud-thing near a tree and went for it. Bucky saw it too and grabbed hold, “Bucky!” you yelled. 

“What?” his voice was shaky. 

“That’s my boob!” you screamed as you went up the ramp, the building exploded behind you and Bucky forgot to move his hand, the loud noise made him hold tighter, “Ow!’ you grumbled as you landed, going at top speed. 

Bucky lowered his hand, “sorry, sorry, sorry, god i didn’t mean to, sorry,” he kept repeating himself, you could feel the blush radiating on his cheeks from behind you. 

“Never said I didn’t like it...” you muttered. 

“What did you say?” Bucky asked, but he didn’t get an answer because you were back with the rest of the group. 

You all went home, Bucky was wheeled to the medical ward to see what he was drugged with and you went to your room. 

*****

Steve was holding a laptop as he walked into Bucky’s room, he was still in a hospital bed in the med center, it had been a couple days and Bucky was feeling fine; it was a mix of shock and some random drug they never really identified. 

“Alright, I’m showing you something,” Steve’s eyebrows were knitted together, he opened the laptop and it had the audio recordings from the earpieces from the last mission. 

“Those earpieces save?” Bucky groggily asked. 

“Yes, and I’m showing you this.” Steve had pulled audio clips, “you and y/n need to stop flirting and actually do something, I can’t keep hearing this in my ear all the time.” he sighed and hit play. 

‘great thighs, you should teach me your workout routine’

‘they make great earmuffs’

Steve deadpanned to Bucky, Bucky just shrugged, “I didn’t know what she meant by that so I just smiled and nodded.” 

“Bucky!” Steve yelled, “where does your head need to be for her thighs to make earmuffs?”

“between her legs?” But was picturing a really fatal choke hold that Nat did once. 

“what else is between her legs?” 

“her- oh...” his face went from confused to red, “oh...!” Bucky bug eyes met Steve’s knowing face. 

“and you grabbed her boob, and just listen to what she says when you moved it.” Steve scrolled a bit and then hit play. 

‘never said I didn’t like it...’

“I was drugged, I didn’t know what she was saying!” Bucky cried, “I can’t believe it went over my head.”

“go talk to her!” Steve said. 

Bucky stood up and rolled his shoulders back, he walked out of the med center and to the rooms, and at one point he thought about turning around and wimping out but he held strong and kept going. Once he was at your door he knocked and you opened pretty quickly. 

“I-” he cleared his throat, “I was thinking about you,” Bucky said. 

“really?” you smirked. 

“ya... I was wondering if you had a pair of earmuffs I could try on?”

[peachy-panic]

WHUMPTOBER DAY 3: “WHO DID THIS TO YOU?”

This is the next chronological piece of Do No Harm, continued directly from this chapter.

Tag list: @whumpervescence  @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing @whumptywhumpdump

WARNINGS: Medical procedures, referenced/implied noncon, slavery setting, the usual.

The young doctor seems a bit skittish and far less cruel than the other Facility employees, and that comes with the dangerous notion that perhaps he doesn’t plan on hurting him. But that notion requires a naivety of which Jaime is no longer capable. He, of all people, is aware that cruelty can disguise itself in many shapes and sizes. Just because it isn’t obvious doesn’t mean it isn’t there, and that only makes it all the more dangerous.

There’s no use in hoping either way, he decides. Dr. Tate will either hurt him or he won’t, will either touch him or he won’t, and Jaime can’t — won’t — react. He has already made that mistake once today and will certainly pay for it later in ways he doesn’t want to think about now. He would do well to remember that he doesn’t hold any power here. Not in this room, this building, this life. And that, despite any arbitrary written rules, Dr. Tate is free to do as he pleases. 

At least he had removed the restraints from his mouth and wrists. Jaime can console himself with this small mercy. 

Those had always been the worst part of nights with Mr. Torley, on the all-too-frequent occasions he decided to use them. He was clearly very into them, and even more into Jaime’s fear of them. In addition to the claustrophobia they stoked in him, the use of restraints in bed had always felt something like a mockery. What use was it to restrain someone who can’t fight back regardless? The binds on his wrists and ankles were nothing more than accessories. The shackles in his mind did all the work to keep him still. And Mr. Torley knew that.

He does his best not to think about that now. Not to think about Mr. Torley at all, since that was what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. Distantly, he wonders how long the influence of his first Keeper will continue to stain Jaime’s existence beyond the termination of their six-month contract.

Dr. Tate, who has been buried in the cabinets above the sink for several minutes, turns back to him sporting bright-blue gloves that adhere tightly around his slender hands. He meets Jaime’s eyes for half a second before his gaze darts somewhere just to the left of his shoulder. 

“We need to run a couple of tests,” he says in a detached, clinical voice, all notes of lightheartedness from earlier removed. “I’ll need to collect some samples from you.”

Jaime nods once in acknowledgement, squeezing his fingers tightly, unconsciously around the edge of the table. There’s an unnatural pause in his cadence, and Jaime when looks up, he watches a slight twitch of movement in the doctor’s jaw. 

“Please remove your pants and underwear,” Dr. Tate says, his voice taking on a lower pitch. “You can leave them on up to your thighs, if you’d like.”

The slight shift in demeanor sets Jaime on edge, but he doesn’t hesitate at the command, even as a familiar panic claws at the inside of his throat. He drops forward from the table, his legs taking his weight. His thumbs hook the waistband of the thin, cotton pants he had been returned in, and he doesn’t allow himself a moment of hesitation before pushing them unceremoniously off his hips. He takes Dr. Tate up on his merciful offer to keep them partially on his body. The cold, sterile air inside the clinic is sharp against his exposed skin.

Jaime’s eyes find the ceiling as he prepares for the touch he knows is coming. He doesn’t look to see whatever tools and instruments Dr. Tate is laying out on the silver tray beside the exam table. He doesn’t have to. “We need to run a couple of tests.”  Whatever foolish hypotheticals Jaime once held in regards to WRU — what they did and didn’t know about the treatment of their wards — had long been shattered. 

Of course they needed to test him for sexually transmitted diseases. They can’t have a Domestic Companion spreading something to the next paying customer that buys their time and exposing their innocent charade. 

There’s a pause in Dr. Tate’s movement, but Jaime doesn’t look away from his spot on the ceiling tile.

“I’m going to touch you, now.” Dr. Tate’s voice is low and measured. “I need to examine you for bumps or sores, any abnormalities.” He clears his throat. “And I’ll take a swab from your urethra. It might be uncomfortable, but it shouldn’t hurt you.” Another pause. “Please, tell me if it does.”

Jaime’s grip on the table tightens, but he otherwise doesn’t react. Distantly, he is grateful for the warning, the bare explanation, mortifying as it is. He knows that the doctors here are not obligated to explain anything to the Companion patients, to seek consent in any form. Their consent was implicitly given in the contracts they signed at intake. He just as easily could have left Jaime gagged and bound to the table and gone about the procedure without so much as a word to him. Jaime is glad he hadn’t. 

Instead, Dr. Tate’s touch is light and professional. His gloved hands don’t linger, they don’t poke and prod to get a reaction from him. It seems, even, that he touches him as little as possible. Almost as if he is as eager to get this over with as Jaime is, which doesn’t feel quite possible. 

The fluorescent strip of light next to his focal point on the ceiling burns at the edge of his vision, but he doesn’t look away, using the mild discomfort as an anchor to hold himself steady. He concentrates on that instead of the gentle touches, gritting his teeth against any traitorous urges his body might provoke. Mr. Torley had loved that about Jaime — his responsiveness to touch — but not as much as he loved using it against him. 

His stomach sours at the memory, fresh humiliation creeping into his cheeks at the idea of something similar happening now. He doesn’t think Dr. Tate would tease him the way his Keeper had, but he still doesn’t relish the idea of becoming physically aroused in front of this young doctor, who couldn’t have been more than a few years older than him and, in another life, Jaime might have found pretty. 

The thought is gone almost as soon as it comes, too painful to linger on. The idea of another life. A normal life. A life at all. These are thoughts Jaime is forbidden to have. The phantom sting of an electric shock lights up the column of his throat and Jaime winces.

“Sorry,” Dr. Tate said quickly, misunderstanding the movement and withdrawing his hand. Jaime’s eyes finally fall to his as the doctor takes a step back, inserting the long swab into a glass tube and sealing it with a cap. “The worst part is over.”

Jaime is numb all over, but he nearly laughs. He knows that having stepped foot in this facility again, the “worst part” has not even begun. 

“I’ll need to collect another sample from your mouth,” Dr. Tate continues, pulling on a fresh pair of gloves, and Jaime absently wonders why they even bother wasting extra product on the patients here. “And we’ll draw some blood—” 

Something catches his voice mid-sentence and Jaime’s eyes flick up to his again. Dr. Tate looks at him, and then pointedly, hurriedly away. Jaime swears he can see his pale cheeks reddening.

“You can— We’re finished with that part.” He stumbles out. “Feel free to cover yourself up.”

Jaime does as he’s told, finding it somewhere within himself to be grateful that the doctor had kept the procedure professional. He couldn’t say the same thing for every encounter he’d had in the facility clinic before. 

********

Sebastian knows what happens next, and that’s why he finds himself taking his time with the rest of the visit. As soon as he’s completed the mandated intake exam, he is supposed to mark the patient as cleared in his chart and alert the handlers to come collect him. To take him back into the part of the facility where Sebastian has never set foot; the “residential” wing where the unclaimed Companions are housed between contracts. On all the promotional advertisements, it’s depicted as a dormitory-like accommodation. Now that Sebastian knows just how little truth exists behind their lies, he can only imagine it’s nothing of the sort. 

His mind conjures images of iron-barred cells and concrete rooms, of medieval dungeons with chains and darkness and filth. It’s a sensationalized version of what he assumes is probably the truth, but that doesn’t mean the reality is any less horrible. After what he’s seen in his time here and everything he’s heard, he has no doubt that the people who are forced to reside here between Keepers are subject to the company’s own brand of horror. Frankly, he’s in no hurry to turn his patient back over to their hands a moment sooner than he has to.

The boy is silent and entirely pliable throughout the whole exam, allowing himself to be moved when necessary and not so much as flinching when the needles for the blood draw break his skin. Sebastian is glad when the more… invasive parts of the exam are over. The boy had been no less compliant during them, maybe even the opposite, but Sebastian hadn’t missed the subtle changes in his posture, the way the muscles in his hands clenched and released around the edge of the table as he touched him as little as possible. 

He had looked up at the ceiling instead of at the wall behind Sebastian, as he had done previously, and Sebastian had silently prayed that the position wasn’t intended as a way to hold back tears. He doesn’t know how he could live with himself if he made this kid cry.

When the blood has been drawn, the test samples submitted for lab processing, and a full physical performed, Sebastian has run out of ways to delay the inevitable. He closes out of the boy’s patient profile on his screen and turns to him, hands folded professionally in front. 

“I’ll need to alert the handlers that your intake exam is complete,” he told him, probably unnecessarily. He hadn’t looked to see how long he had been in the system, but from his behavior, he assumes it’s been long enough to break his spirit. He probably knows these protocols better than Sebastian ever wants to. “They’ll come and escort you back to the residential quarters.”

110750 nods once without looking at him. “Thank you,” he says flatly. Then, there is a moment of pause before he lifts his eyes and seems to level Sebastian with something more sincere. “Thank you for… for letting me get cleaned up.”

Sebastian feels like shattering into pieces all over the cold linoleum. Instead, he tries for a smile and lands somewhere in the realm of a tight, thin line at his lips. “Sure,” he says, a bit mortified to hear the crack in his voice. 

He watches 110750 take slow, measured breaths as Sebastian makes the call he desperately wishes he didn’t have to make. He tries not to stare as they wait in tense silence for the handlers to arrive. Of course, Sebastian could leave the room if he wants. The intake procedure is done, and so is his minimal obligation to patient care. But something feels wrong about leaving him. More than that, something feels utterly wrong about this boy being taken out of the clinic, away from his line of sight, where he can’t see what will happen next. He only knows it won’t be good. 

A split second before he hears the clinic doors whoosh open, Sebastian steps closer to his patient, lowering his voice to a quick, urgent whisper. “Keep an eye on that broken nose,” he advises. “If you have any trouble breathing as it heals, please don’t hesitate to let your assigned handler know that you need medical attention, okay?”

The boy hitches in a breath but doesn’t respond. Sebastian takes half a step closer. 

“Look, you have a right to medical assistance,” he says, the words feeling like treason on his tongue despite knowing their written truth. “Even here. Even now. You can always come see me here if you need to. They can’t legally prevent you from requesting care. Do you understand?”

Unexpectedly, something dark flashes in the boy’s eyes. Something less like the fear and dread he had witnessed earlier, and something much more akin to anger. Anger at Sebastian?

Before the interaction can go any further, they are interrupted by the unceremonious swing of the exam room door. The same two men who had brought him in - one with a fresh bandage on his face - push their way in, stepping between Sebastian and his patient. 

“Up you go, 7-5-0,” Handler Hernandez barks, and the boy is on his feet before he can finish the command, his hands behind his back, head bowed. 

“Oh, look who finally decided to behave,” the other one - Smith, maybe? - taunts as he sizes him up in a way that makes even Sebastian’s skin crawl. Just as he had prior to the visit, the man shifts his gaze to him, a sneer permanently embedded into his expression. “Does he get a lollipop for good behavior? Maybe a sticker?”

The boy doesn’t look up at him, but Sebastian thinks he sees his throat move. He feels a swell of rage rise into his throat, coming to a boiling point for the second time since he entered the room with this boy, but he swallows it back, keeping as level an expression as he can manage. 

“He was perfectly agreeable,” he responds tightly, refusing to play into whatever mockery he’s initiating. 

Smith answers him with a dismissive snort, turning his attention back to the boy like a predator who just found fresh meat. “What do you say, sweetheart?” He asks, the thick rubber of his boots squeaking against the tile as he takes a step too far into the boy’s personal space. “Think we can go the easy way back, or would you prefer to do things the hard way again?”

The beat of silence in the room is painful as they await his response, which comes eventually in a subdued voice, through slightly gritted teeth and with his eyes on the floor. “The easy way. Sir.”

A snort from Hernandez breaks the tension. “Yeah,” he says. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, he is escorted from the room and seems to take with him all the air in Sebastian's lungs. Naively, desperately, he hopes for the briefest moment of eye contact before he’s taken away from him. But his eyes stay downward, even as a large hand curls around his bicep and makes him stumble in his gait as he’s yanked forward. Sebastian watches helplessly as he disappears from sight, one singular thought slicing through his mind on a loop:

Who did this to you?

[smol-and-grumpy]

Legally Yours - Ch. 01 (Prologue)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester tops the list of hottest entrepreneurs 2020 and yet, there’s still something he wants but can’t have because, in order to get that, he would have to settle down and get married. She agrees too quickly because she wants to secure a more comfortable life for her and her daughter. Will she be able to help Dean get what he wants without losing herself in the fake story they spin up to deceive his father and the world?

Chapter Warnings: None. Maybe the end will get your heart racing.

WC: 1796

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Buy me a coffee

Y/N’s sitting at her desk as she types an answer to the inquiry from a customer, when her friend Donna practically slams a glamour magazine over her keyboard. 

“Have you seen this?” The blond woman asks. 

“Jesus, Donna! I haven’t saved that document yet! God!” She picks the magazine up and tosses it to the side as she continues to finish the document on her screen. 

Donna’s still waiting, staring at her and she wonders if that woman has nothing else to do. Y/N’s sure Donna has plenty to do, they always have a lot of work and that’s why she gets home so late and sometimes, Liv would already be asleep. Sometimes, when she’s lucky, Liv was awake and she’d read her a bedtime story of princesses who are rescued by a heroic prince.

As soon as Y/N is finished, she turns around in her chair, to see her friend still staring at her instead of doing her own work. 

“What is it?” She asked with that added annoyed nuance to her tone of voice.

“Look!” Donna lifts her chin to point towards the magazine she slammed in front of Y/N just a moment before, “Have you seen it?”

Turning back around to her desk, she picks it up, “Donna, I’m not reading those mags, so no, I haven’t seen it. Why?”

Instead of answering her, Donna only grins. The grin that shows her dimples. The wicked one, “Page twenty-six,” 

With raised eyebrows and that little spark of curiosity which Donna had added to her interest, Y/N rifles through the pages until she reaches page twenty-six. 

There’s a picture of a man who stares right at her. He’s wearing a perfect suit. His one hand fakes the adjusting of his cufflink on his wrist. It’s a total male model pose. Well, he looks like one, so she can’t really say that anything’s out of the ordinary. 

At a second glance, though, she realizes that he looks familiar. His face is a little scruffy, but that makes him look edgier, makes him look more handsome. He’s smiling bright, showing his perfect white teeth. There are crinkles around his emerald eyes, seven on his right side, and she knows she shouldn’t even be counting them, so she ignores his left side. And she definitely can’t help but notice the freckles across his face. 

Oh, she thinks.

Oooohhhh.

“Is that..?” She asks with a frown that gets deeper between her eyebrows because she’s just not sure? She hasn’t seen the man that many times in real life. 

“Ya! Our fucking boss! The icy King!” Donna shouts, “Isn’t he dreamy? My god, I wanna eat him up! And he doesn’t look as icy and distant like he always does,”

“Donna!”

“What? Only telling the truth here! Read what the headline says!”

Her friend is right, though, Mr. Winchester’s normal aloof and cold persona isn’t captured in the picture. He’s known to be the icy King in the company. Instead, he looks kind of welcoming and warm. Y/N eyes go to the top of the page, and she can’t lie, it’s hard to concentrate on the writing when there’s a good looking man staring her down.

The headline is in all caps.

 DEAN WINCHESTER, HOTTEST ENTREPRENEUR 2020

 She frowns, as her eyes leave the magazine to look back at her friend, “That’s what you wanted to show me?” 

“Duh! There’s also a whole article about him being the center of attention everywhere he goes,”

“Well, that’s not really surprising, is it? Looking like that?”

“It also says that he has a fiancée.”

“That’s also not surprising,” Y/N shrugs, “I mean, seriously, look at him. Who wouldn’t want to marry that?” She didn't. At least not when they say that he’s cold-hearted. But again, she’s not the norm here because every female is gushing about him. 

She closes the magazine loudly, deciding that she shouldn’t waste more time. She wants to get home on time today. Liv went on a field trip with her school and she wants to hear her little girl telling her about how exciting it was. Y/N still has a lot of work to do and also a meeting with her supervisor later. The sleazebag.

“So, can I go back to work?” She turns to Donna, “I have a meeting with Raphael in about twenty minutes.”

“Ew,” Donna cringes her nose.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Exactly,”

“Will you tell him off?”

“I already did,” She sighs, “Multiple times,”

“Why don’t you just go to HR?”

Donna knows what happens. What always happens when she has a meeting with Raphael. He’s always trying things with her. Accidentally brushes his hand against her breast or her ass. He once told her to sit in his lap as he was showing her the numbers of her performance. It wasn’t the first time he suggested it, and she doubts that it will be the last time either. He tried to kiss her more than once, but knowing that they are in an office environment, he didn’t dare to force her too much. He also offers to drive her home almost every week, and she’s slowly getting tired of it, not to mention creeped out.

At their last meeting, he made her hang up a picture frame in his office. His hand rested on her hips to supposedly support her, but they traveled further down until he kneaded her ass in his palms. She immediately got down from there, and left the room wordlessly. 

She knows another secret about Raphael, though. One she could use against him, but she just doesn’t know how just yet. Y/N knows and has got proof that he’s been skimming money. He takes it out of the customer’s account. Not a lot, a small sum that customers wouldn’t notice is missing, but in the end, it’s probably a whole lot when he does it to all the customers he’s supposed to look after. 

Again, she can’t really bring that up because she’s sure that he’ll spin it around and Raphael is good at that. With a push on the button of his keyboard, he could reverse everything and she knows that. 

“I can’t go to HR,” Y/N lowers her head and mumbles to her friend, “Because they won’t believe me,”

And that’s the truth too. The Head of HR is Duma, a woman who occasionally fucks Raphael. They have a friend with benefits thing going on, even if she’s married with children. Duma will never believe her because Y/N’s sure that Raphael can spin this perfectly to fit his narrative. 

Besides, what can she possibly tell? It’s her against him. It’s like a mouse against an elephant. She’s only an accountant and is replaceable, whereas Raphael is a member of the leadership team. And who will be let go? She doesn’t think it’s going to be him and she needs the job to survive. 

Y/N watches as Donna’s lips start to curl up, the white teeth of the woman are visible, as she drums her fingers annoyingly on her own desk.

With a frown, she asks her friend, “What?”

“I have an idea,” Donna says and pulls up her outlook calendar. 

She types in something, and then a calendar appears with a lot of colorful blocks. 

Oh no. She has quite the idea of who’s calendar it is even if she can’t read the name from where she’s sitting, which is too far away because she doesn’t want to give the impression that she’s not working. And it’s stupid that they can do that. They have quite an open calendar policy at the office. Everyone can send and block meetings for everyone, even for the icy King. 

“Donna, no!”

“Why, Donna, yes!” Her friend grins, “He has an open window right now. The meeting in the boardroom is in ten minutes. You should go tell him what you know. If someone can change anything, it’s him, right?”

Donna’s not wrong, she isn’t. But Mr. Winchester is what? At least four tiers above her if not five. Why should he care what a simple worker in his company is thinking? Why should he care what the hell she goes through every day while he earns enough profit to fuel his expensive and glamorous lifestyle?

“He wouldn’t believe me,” She shakes her head.

“You can tell him about the money skimming, I bet he won’t be happy to hear that.”

“Ugh,”

Donna stands up and walks over to her, braces her hands on the chair Y/N’s sitting on, “What’s the worst that could happen, huh?”

“That I get fired?”

“Meh,” Donna squeaked, “I doubt that. You’re doing a great job. Your records are great. And besides, if they do that, you can go and file a lawsuit against them. Besides, who knows, if you go to HR, Raphael will fire you before the icy King does.”

True, but still. 

“Now go get your ass up to the executive floor. Maybe take him a coffee, I heard he likes it black,”

“Oh, just like his heart?”

“Ya, maybe I wouldn’t tell him that?” Donna chuckles.

 *

 Y/N’s on her way to the elevators. She can’t believe that she’s really doing it. But Donna’s right. She can’t go on and live like that. It’s already hard to part from her child every morning and to get bullied at her job and being sexually harassed should not be the norm. She just fucking wants to earn enough money to keep her kid and herself above water.

God, she’s really doing it! 

Fuck.

There are six elevators lined up in the foyer. Three on each side. Only one goes up to the executive floor and also one is reserved for Mr. Winchester’s penthouse on the top floor. Everybody knows that. 

To get the elevator to run up to the executive floor, Y/N would need to have a card with a chip, which she doesn’t, and she feels stupid to have just realized it. And now she’s standing here, lost, with a hot black coffee in a lidless plastic cup that almost burns her fingers off.

Ugh. 

She’s so fucking stupid.

Well, she could still try, couldn’t she? She jumped over her own fear and has come this far. She definitely shouldn’t give up now. 

Her finger hovers over the buttons. Closing her eyes and exhaling loudly, she gives the button a push. Standing back, she waits, her heart is drumming loudly against her ribcage.

And she doesn’t even have to wait long because not even thirty seconds later, the elevator dings and opens up to reveal a man in a nice suit staring back at her.

It’s him.

Ch. 02

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[satoruvt]

for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible. 

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair. 

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go. 

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it. 

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick. 

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door. 

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything. 

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. “Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first. 

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long. 

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will. 

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly. 

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.