#my headspace has been off all day so hope you feel a pocket of peace soon

[holdinbacksecrets]

the majority of my undergraduate experience was spent in my bedroom, signed into zoom classes. my favorite trope is anything college related, but specifically strangers to lovers. i can’t help but hope (with everything i have tbh) that i’ll get a college love experience during grad school. also, i’m knocking on wood because i’m annoyingly superstitious. but like… let me have this

[heavenbarnes]

what’s your poison?

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: a cheating ex boyfriend, alcohol, unprotected sex (please use protection), oral sex (female receiving), handjob, dirty talk, swearing, joking during sex cause i’m fun, pulling out onto stomach, bucky has a dog, new zealand english cause i wrote the start on my phone

Word Count: 5.5k

if you try and tell me you’ve never fallen in love with your bartender before, i hope you know you’re a liar! anyways, this is fun and it doesn’t mean anything so enjoy (so i guess this is technically an au, but could also not be cause there is references to in-canon shit) x

You wouldn’t say you were proud of finding solace in a bar, especially not one with those tacky red neons and a floor sticky enough to have you frozen in place.

But here you are, perched up on that high stool by the window, notebook spread open in front of you with a pen resting on your lower lip.

Funny thing about heartbreak, the world doesn’t stop moving around you, even when you wish it did. So when you come home to your roommate fucking your boyfriend, you still have to live in that house cause finding rentals is near impossible.

And when living in that house feels damn suffocating, you have to sit in the bar down the street doing the work that is kicking your ass, because people don’t stop filing reports when your heart gets broken.

Wasn’t the first time the world made it blaringly obvious that it didn’t revolve around you, but sometimes the ignorance is bliss.

Scribbling out yet another data set, you knew your life wasn’t about to get any easier, but even you had to admire your own perseverance. So did Astrid, the sweet waitress that was swapping your empty glass with a full one.

You smiled at her, picking up the drink and giving it a sniff, screwing your nose up slightly. “You’re very kind but this smells strong and I’m still working.”

“It wasn’t me, I’m just the messenger,” She returned your smile as she cleaned the little drops of soda from your last drink. “Bucky figured you needed it by the look on your face.”

Casting a glance over Astrid’s shoulder you caught eyes with the bartender, the one who’d already been looking at you but turned away once you caught his eye. You lent him a smile nonetheless, just in case he was looking.

Stirring the drink with your paper straw, you came in to take a sip, immediately feeling the flavours flood over your tongue. Bucky was onto something, you definitely needed this and about 17 others after it.

“Tell him I say thank you.” You gave her a sheepish little grin as you took another sip of his creation.

The thing about Bucky was, he didn’t say a hell of a lot but he was a god with his hands. Not like that, like when he was shaking cocktails. But you were sure he was probably good in that way too.

Six foot three and broad in just about every way, long hair and that brooding kind of look on his face. He might’ve been the reason you picked this bar out of the ten or so others littering the stretch.

He’d quietly mix your drinks with those large hands (even his prosthetic hand was big, dark metal glinting under the neon lights), always making you exactly what you needed. Sometimes, if you timed it right, you could see him watching you out of the corner of your eye.

That should’ve been weird, quiet guy that won’t even introduce himself to you watches you from across a bar. But Bucky made it different, something in you liked the way he stared.

Astrid had been the only one you told about your now ex-boyfriend, but from your hospitality experience, word spreads quick behind a bar. You didn’t mind, it got you free drinks and kindness from the other waitresses as they swirled around you.

Beanie, who was studying business on the side, would sit with you as you worked out your spreadsheets. She asked you mountains of questions that never got annoying, felt nice to be valued around here.

Every day that you left work, you’d sneak back to your apartment, avoiding your roommate by timing it with when you knew she’d be at the gym. Quickly changing your clothes, you slipped back out into the city and headed for the bar.

You kept it quiet with where you spent your evenings, not wanting your boss to think you had a problem with all your time spent there. But you knew that it was very seldom there was actually alcohol in your drinks, mainly just new mocktails Bucky was trialing and testing on you.

That’s how the two of you communicated, he’d make a drink, a waitress would bring it over, you’d sample it and she’d feed the feedback back to him. A rather outdated system that could be solved by you both picking up your nuts and speaking to one another.

But that’d mean hearing each other’s voice, incredibly intimate when you’ve drawn it out this long. You’d have to have something to talk about, be alone in each other’s presence, admit that there was-

Now what was there?

Every night of every week you were there until closing, walking with Astrid to her car, Bucky trailing a few steps behind the both of you. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was making sure you both made it safely. As soon as you both got in, he climbed on his motorcycle and wouldn’t see him again until the next evening.

The moment Astrid dropped you at your apartment, you’d sneak inside, thanking the gods that your roommate was asleep so you didn’t have any awkward hallway interactions. Instead, you lay in the centre of your bed and strangely enough, you thought of your bartender without a voice to even put to the man.

The next evening you were there, you found your mind straying from the work in front of you and heading into the conversation of the waitresses floating around you.

“No, but she’s like gorgeous,” Beanie groaned, putting her notepad in the pocket of her apron. “Bucky is so lucky, she’s just a dream.”

Your ears pricked up at the sound of his name being dropped, and without being able to control it, you found yourself travelling to a million different realities. Of course he had a girlfriend, a man that looks like that and makes a Singapore Sling that good cannot be single.

There was truly no reason to be sad right now, he wasn’t yours and never was. But maybe you enjoyed him paying special attention to you, especially after what the last guy did to you. Astrid did tell you that Bucky was a bit stone cold sometimes, he never used this special treatment on anyone else.

So here you were thinking you were special, and here was the universe pulling you into line again, reminding you in no uncertain terms that the world didn’t revolve around you.

You drank Bucky’s mew mocktails, but they didn’t taste as fun when you knew they weren’t genuine. Sure maybe the care was genuine, but there wasn’t anything behind it. You screwed up your face when you heard your own thoughts, you sounded like an actual fuckboy right now.

Gone are the days of alarmingly handsome men being able to gift a Moscow Mule in peace, no sex attached. You just had to go and set the women’s rights movement back a few years.

You scolded yourself silently, taking another sip of the drink and enjoying Bucky’s talents. You weren’t even in the headspace for a new man at the moment, so where were you getting off hoping the guy was single?

Lifting your head towards the bar, you found those blue eyes back on you. He stuttered for a moment, realising he’d been caught staring, so he lifted his eyebrow almost to say “what do you think?”

A smile formed on your face of its own accord, lifting your hand into a thumbs up you mouthed back “pretty damn good.”

And for the first time since you’d been coming here, you saw it. You saw the corners of Bucky’s pretty lips turn up into a smile as he nodded, looking awful proud of himself.

God damn it, your brain knew you weren’t ready but your heart didn’t seem to give a fuck.

Another night at the bar and as you came inside, your eyes went to your normal seat, only to find somebody already sitting in it. After a long day at work, you couldn’t help the childish groan drift out of your lips.

“I know,” Astrid caught you mid grumble as she started walking you over. “But there is a seat right here at the bar.”

Putting you in a stool, she wiped down the surface in front of you so you could lay out your papers to keep working. She gave your shoulders a squeeze and happened to hit the right spot, maybe it was her girlfriend you needed to be jealous of.

As she went to leave you be, you heard her call over her shoulder. “Bucky, she’s here.”

Your head snapped up, heat rising in your cheeks as Astrid scurried away to serve her tables. From the service door, a large frame took all of it up as Bucky appeared before you.

Watching the way his eyes scanned the room, they fixed on the spot you usually sat at before his brow furrowed in confusion. It wasn’t until his gaze drifted down and caught you at the bar, he nearly jumped in fright.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Astrid tells him when you arrive every night, like it’s something he looks forward to. You gave him a smile and a pathetic little wave as you tried to calm yourself down. The man has a girlfriend, he isn’t waiting for you.

Bucky smiled back, seemingly looking just as nervous as you felt. He quickly raised one finger, as if asking you to wait, before he spun around and started grabbing different bottles from the back shelf.

As you watched him work, you smelt a breeze of perfume drift past you, one that had become familiar. You reached out and grabbed Beanie by the wrist, deciding now was the best time to put yourself out of your misery.

“Bucky’s girlfriend must be the luckiest person on earth, with a man who makes drinks like that.”

Beanie scrunched up her nose in confusion, looking between the two of you.

“Girlfriend? You know something I don’t?”

You studied her gaze, matching that look of lacking in understanding.

“He must have a girlfriend, right?”

“Oh, the only woman in Bucky’s life is his dog, Daybreak,” She laughed, turning on her heel to leave. “You should see her, she’s gorgeous.”

A dog, a fucking dog. You’ve been stewing every night for about a week over a fucking dog. A curt laugh slipped past your lips and you didn’t even try to stop it, top tier stupidity and you actually deserved it.

Bucky turned to look over his shoulder, caught off guard by your chuckle as he’d missed the whole conversation over the noise of the bar. He just smiled, stirring the glass in front of him before sliding it across to you.

Sniffing it first, like you always did, it smelt heavenly like winter mint. Taking the first sip, it went down ridiculously well and you nodded in content before flashing Bucky a thumbs up. He placed his right hand over his heart nodding back to you. Your silent communication always said enough.

Bucky made you two more of those minty little things as you kept studying your spreadsheets. The bar patrons moved around you as the hours ticked on and you were so enveloped in your work it made you jump when you heard your name.

That and the voice that the word floated off of.

Turning in your stool, your ex boyfriend stood before you with his hands clasped together. Shaking your head, you went to spin back around but he stepped forward, hand reaching for your upper arm.

“I know you don’t want to see me but please let me explain.”

“Normally I’d say ‘fuck off’, but I’d love to hear an explanation for how you ended up fucking my roommate.”

He grimaced at the sound of you throwing his mistake back in his face. But truthfully, if he didn’t like the sound of it, maybe he shouldn’t have cheated.

“I know I fucked up, it was so stupid but it didn’t mean anything.”

“When did it stop meaning something? The third time? Maybe the 15th time? Please, enlighten me.”

A part of him seemed shocked, that you weren’t folding like a hand of cards and letting him take you home. Stupid boy should’ve realised you were a whole person before he met you, you’d go on without him.

“Alright, I know I deserve all this but I just want my baby back.”

You almost responded, your mouth opened to say something- anything, but someone else cut you to the chase.

“Your baby back? This isn’t Ruby-fucking-Tuesday’s, but you’re more than welcome to get the hell out of my bar.”

Turning behind you, you saw large hands gripping the wooden legs, squared up and unafraid. It didn’t register with you that this was the first time you’d heard Bucky’s voice until it was too late. A shiver shifted down your spine as you watched the way he stared the other man down.

“And who the hell are you?” Your ex had always been stupid, never knew when to stop running his mouth and keep it away from other girls.

“I’m the one that’s been keeping ‘your baby’ company each night since you fucked up so bad.”

Not to set the women’s rights movement back another few years, but there was something quite lovely about being fought over. Picking your drink back up, you sipped it slowly as you watched Bucky refuse to back down.

“You don’t know the first thing about her.”

“I know she’s far too smart to be wasting her time with you, so I won’t say it again, get the hell out of my bar.”

Your ex looked to you, stupidly thinking he’d find reprieve with you. Shrugging your shoulders and turning your gaze to Bucky you finally spoke. “This is delicious, you really are gifted.”

And with his tail tucked between his legs, you watched your ex trudge out of the bar, silently hoping that would be the last time you saw his sorry ass.

The only thing about him leaving was the silence that now sat between yourself and Bucky, having to come to terms with the fact your quiet little knowings have now become incredibly loud.

Still sipping away at your drink, thankfully Bucky found the notion to speak first. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get involved-“

Thinking he was finished you spoke up. “Please don’t apologise, I loved it.” As you were speaking, he finished with, “I really care about you.”

That shut the both of you up, back to quiet as you looked at each other across the bar. Patrons kept milling about around you but the world seemed to stop for you. In your own head, you asked for a sign, a sign that you should risk it all.

Bucky’s tongue came out to run across his lower lip and you swore you saw stars.

That wouldn’t normally stand as a sign but you were fine with a reach, you’d already decided he could’ve sneezed and that would work.

“You know, uh,” You cleared your throat, placing down your now empty glass. “I’ve always wondered what it was like to be on a motorcycle.”

Bucky nodded slowly in understanding, pulling the rag off his shoulder and placing it against the counter. “I’ve always wanted to show you what it’s like.”

“What time do you clock off?”

“Now, now’s good.”

The sound of your stool scraping against the wood floor drew Astrid’s gaze up as she moved through the crowd between the tables. Stopping beside your usual spot, she stood beside the man who’d taken your seat that night.

“Thank you, Albert,” She passed him the twenty dollar note. “It was about time they got moving.”

There was something incredibly intimate about being within close proximity of Bucky, let alone having him sat between your legs as your arms closed even tighter around his waist. You swore he zipped in and out of traffic on that bike just so you’d get even closer, and you were reasonably thankful for it.

Going from only hearing his voice moments before to being so close to him you could smell the Calvin Klein aftershave? There was a lot going on and it was enough to make your head spin. So you chose to relax into him, as much as you could with the helmet locked around your head.

You were nearly going to pout when you arrived at his house, but the moment he stretched his hand out to take yours and walk you in, he wasn’t leaving you with much to feel sorry about.

Now, there are many dangers about walking into a single man’s apartment, mainly the state it could be in. Bucky’s was beautiful, dark furniture and well looked after, everything was tidy and it actually smelt nice. You’d think he was straight out of the 40′s with manners and charm like this.

As you gazed around in awe of the first male apartment you’d been in without a fist-sized hole in the wall, you felt something brush against your legs. Looking down, you found a husky nearly at your hip height, bright blue eyes like her dad’s.

“Daybreak, go easy on her.” Bucky sounded from the kitchen, he’d already made his way in and started fishing around.

“That’s okay, you’re even more beautiful than I was told.” You cooed, your voice immediately catering just for her as you scratched around her ears.

“They told you about her?” Bucky chuckled as he worked, two highball glasses in front of him and a dark liquor starting to pour.

Your cheeks glowed hot as you thought about whether or not you should tell him of your monumental fuck up from earlier. Maybe he’d laugh? Or maybe he’d think you were a sociopath? Better to get it out now you supposed.

“I heard them talking, and I thought they were referring to your girlfriend, so they just cleared that up for me.” You caught Daybreak’s eye, busying yourself with her so you couldn’t see the gorgeous man stood a metre away and laughing at you.

“Yes, my incredibly fluffy girlfriend with disgusting breath and a habit of standing on my back when I sleep.” He shook his head, squeezing lime into the glass along with what you thought might’ve been bitters.

“Hey, whatever you’re into, I’m not going to judge!” You put your hands up in defense before going back to fluffing Daybreak’s coat.

Bucky stirred the drinks before sliding one across the counter top to you. Raising back up, you gratefully accepted it as he began to speak again. “You weren’t jealous were you?”

Your eyes widened, thinking on it for a moment with as much expression as possible. Avoiding the question entirely, you took a sip, feeling the warm ginger taste roll through you. 

“What do you call this one?”

“Answer my question and I’ll tell you.”

Narrowing your eyes, you bit the bullet. “I might’ve been a little jealous.”

“This one is called a ‘howling commando’, why were you jealous?”

“Raunchy name, I love it! What was the other minty one called?”

Bucky’s grin widened as he knew exactly what game you were playing, he couldn’t deny he was looking forward to a little tussle.

“Answer my question and I’ll tell you, those are the rules.”

You scrunched up your nose before giving in, he was hot and he had rules, there was simply no denying this man. “Maybe because you make me want to do very bad things to you.”

Bucky’s jaw went slack, but the corners of his mouth tweaked up into a smile as he thought carefully on his next move.

“The minty one is called a ‘winter soldier’, can you tell me what those very bad things are?”

Wrapping your lips around your paper straw, you kept your eyes closely fixed on his as you shrugged your shoulders. You drew back, letting the straw rest in the centre of your tongue as he followed your movements with intrigue.

“Or maybe I could just show you?”

With a swift movement, Bucky cleared the table with one hand and the other snaked around your waist, pulling you tight to his chest. You felt his lips glide across yours, as soft as you’d imagined and that bite of alcohol resting just past them.

Your hands came up to fist at his shirt, tugging him down so you could slip your tongue in and against his. He brought his other hand down to rest just behind your knee, picking you up in a swift motion and placing you against his kitchen counter.

Legs locking around him, you pulled him in as you gripped at his flannel over shirt to push it off his shoulders. Bucky took the hint, stripping the shirt off before getting onto his t-shirt. He stood before you bare-chested and beautiful, so much so that your breath caught in your throat.

A hint of a smirk started on his face but you shook your head, not prepared to let him have the joy of catching you off guard. You took his jaw in your hands and brought him back to your lips, reveling in the feeling of him on you.

Feeling his hands go for your waistband, you lifted your hips to let him get rid of your bottoms, the cold of kitchen tile against the backs of your thighs.

“You are so fucking beautiful, been thinking of you since the day you walked into my bar.”

Giggling into his mouth, you ran your hands down his neck and into the hair at the nape, tugging slightly. “I could say the same about you, pretty boy.”

You could’ve sworn Bucky growled, but you weren’t given enough time to dwell on it as he began to ease you back until you lay against the counter. His fingers went to the band of your underwear, slowly easing those down your legs.

Here you were, spread out in this mans kitchen like dinner and he was going to eat his share. A shiver ran through you that you could pinpoint to excitement as you felt his breath gently ghost over you.

His hands ran from your thighs all the way up to the hem of your shirt, sliding it up your body and underneath to palm at your chest. You knew he had big hands, it was one of the first things you noticed, but you weren’t prepared for how good they’d feel when he held you.

The moment you felt his mouth come down against your pussy, your whole back arched off the bench. You gripped at his forearms, nails digging in slightly as you rolled your lower half into his mouth. His tongue came out, running along your slit and moving against your clit.

You’d definitely been swindled into a shit deal with your ex, it never felt anything like this and Bucky had only just started. His name fell out of your throat as his tongue sped up, moving back down to your entrance and making your eyes nearly rolled back in your head.

Bucky pulled back one of his hands for only a moment so he could hook your legs over his shoulders, before he grabbed back at your breasts. The contrast between the rough skin of his fingers tweaking at your nipple, and the smooth metal on the other was driving you wild.

“How are you so good at this, what the fuck?” You babbled, back going up against as he flicked the tip of his tongue at your clit.

He chuckled into you, the sounds vibrating off of where you were most sensitive and hitting you straight in the core. You’d never had a man pay this much attention to you, know exactly where to go and what to do. It was damn near overwhelming and this was the bare minimum, god you’d been missing out.

Bringing one hand down, he pressed two fingers to your clit as his tongue moved back down. The pressure of his skilled digits against you and the speed of his tongue, you were doing your best to cry out his name but it wasn’t coming out right. Your brain couldn’t keep up with everything else.

Pressing your foot into his shoulder, you slipped your hand into his hair, locking into the roots and tugging tight against them. A moan fell out of Bucky and straight against you, rocking your pussy up against his lips. You had to forget everything you thought you knew about men. 

This was a man and he was going to change your life.

He swapped his fingers, slowly sliding them into you as his tongue moved back to your clit. The minute he bent those metal digits up, still pumping his wrist and working his mouth, it was all over.

You clenched down around him, his name flew high into the air as you shook against him, your wetness covering his chin as he moved to lap it up. Like a good boy, he let you get your breath, pulling back and cleaning off his fingers with his tongue.

“Don’t do that in front of me, you’ll make my heart stop.” You joked, throwing your arm over your eyes.

Bucky chuckled, taking a knee in each hand where you’d clamped your thighs together, slowly easing them apart. He tugged you along the bench until your legs were wrapped around him again.

“I can’t believe I just came, and that hard.” You admitted, finally able to cope with it all.

“That’s kind of the point, pretty baby.”

“Yeah but you haven’t even?”

The soft little patterns Bucky was tracing on your thigh came to a halt, almost making you whinge. He looked down at you with an expression of pure confusion before speaking up. 

“Wait, did your ex never make you come during foreplay?”

“Are you kidding?” You snorted, propping yourself up on elbows. “He barely made me come during sex.”

Bucky shook his head, looking physically wounded by what you were telling him. “Oh baby, this isn’t even for pleasure anymore, this is an act of service.”

You snorted at him, gripping his arms so you could pull yourself up to sitting. He tugged you even further until you were flush against him. His face was so close to yours, every part of him was so close.

“You’re being goofy, you’re lucky I think you’re hot.”

It was his turn to laugh, before he slipped his hand down, undoing his belt with a little of your assistance. As he shuffled his jeans and briefs down, you brought your hand to wrap around his length, and it nearly put you back on your ass.

So soft and remarkably beautiful for a dick, it was heavy as all hell as you wrapped your fingers around. So thick and built for two hands to stroke it, you knew that no matter what happened from here on out, you wouldn’t be forgetting about him soon.

“I knew you had a big dick, I could tell from the way you walked,” You said, spitting into your hand so you could stroke him. “But this is just fucking unreal.”

Bucky tried to laugh but you twisted your wrist at just the right time, it filtered off into a moan as his head dipped into the crook of your neck. “And you say I’m the goofy one.”

“Is baby getting all shy, can’t handle the fact he’s hung like a fucking horse?” You teased, running your fingers over his head.

Sucking in a breath, his hands came to grip your hips as you kept jerking him, simply enjoying the way he felt in your hands. “It is far too early for me to be telling you that if you keep talking like that, it will make me come.”

Dropping your mouth open, you turned towards him but ended up nuzzling your nose in his hair. His shampoo smelt incredible, not like a 3-in-1 but like an actual shampoo.

“Bucky, you are a fucking freak, I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

Pulling back from your neck, he gave you the toothiest grin before tipping his head back with a heady moan that made your pussy clench. He looked so beautiful moaning for you, completely at your will with his cock in your hand.

There was something so refreshing about this, your ex never let you have fun during sex, it was always so boring and so incredibly serious. You’d never laughed so much, played so much, and still come so hard your vision whited out.

Bucky took your hand off his dick, wrapping his own it as you tipped your hips back slightly. He lined up, laying his head against your entrance where you needed him most. He slowly slid in as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and gripped tight.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he moved in, the stretch and burn something you hadn’t felt in a wee while, it took over you as he did his best to be gentle. You were starting to understand the meaning of “rearranging guts” as he got to the hilt.

You paused for a moment, breathing through as Bucky strained with all his might to not move. He’d never felt something so fucking tight and so fucking warm, he would lay money on it that you were made for him and he was always meant to find you.

Finally, you tapped on his shoulder and signaled him to move. He rolled his hips into you, the first few thrusts to find his rhythm before he really picked up. Your ankles crossed over above his ass, keeping him as close to you as you could as his speed increasingly picked up.

“God, this pussy feel so fucking good.” He groaned, hands coming down to lift your shirt back up.

You pulled it over your head, throwing it behind you with your bra as his hands immediately gripped back onto them. Lowering slightly, he brought his mouth to one of your nipples, lips wrapping around and sucking gently as his hips never let up.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you thought about those incredible noises he’d made moments before. Tugging gently, you earnt yourself another moan that rippled through you as you rolled your hips back into his.

“Bucky, faster,” Panting out your words, you gripped him tighter. “I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

Bucky’s eyes cast up to you, locking with yours and in an instant he changed. One hand gripped your hip and the other braced against the counter as he surged forward into you. A rippling cry travelled out of your chest and broke in your throat, a pathetic moan replacing it.

“You calling me nasty but I think you’re just as bad as I am, hmm?”

You smiled up at him, leaning back slightly so he could watch the way your tits bounced for him as he fucked you. “I never said I wasn’t, I was the one who wanted to do the bad things.”

Bucky lent down, nose to nose with you and lips nearly touching. “You weren’t the only one who was thinking like that.”

His lips caught yours again as his tongue moved straight into your mouth. He pulled you back onto him and made your whole body tense up on him, a ridiculously good rhythm that was making your legs shake.

Slipping a hand in between you, his fingers worked quick against your clit as you tried to match his movements. Everything was becoming increasingly difficult as you could feel your second orgasm working its way through you.

“You’re so good, you make incredible drinks and you’re really good at this too.” You cried, gripping onto his forearm as your back arched up.

Hearing him chuckle through his staggered breaths, his fingers only picked up against where you were most sensitive. “You make spreadsheets look sexy, holy fuck.”

You would’ve laughed, it was a pretty good one, but the orgasm that tore straight through you only allowed you to cry his name. Pussy locked tight around him you nearly left the table as everything broke inside you. The tension that’d he’d created was cut and you came with a near scream.

Bucky coaxed you through it, telling you how pretty you were, how good you looked. All you could do was whimper for him, aftershocks moving through you as he worked closer to his own end.

You opened your eyes to see him in front of you, fisting his cock above you as he panted your name. You’d never heard or seen something quite as good as this, he was something else entirely.

He came with a cry, painting across your stomach as he fell against the bench top. The both of you frozen in time, collecting yourselves and letting your brains set back to normal. Propping yourself back up, you looked at the gorgeous man lent over the sink.

“I know you’ve just put in the hard work,” You reasoned gesturing to your state. “But I could really do with another drink.”

[easyobsession]

Somewhere Only We Know

“You’re gonna get pissed.” He warns.

“Seriously, Justin, just tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine,” He pauses again, this time so long Kat is about to lose it, when he finally blurts, “We could get married.”

A Spinning Out fic.

A/N: A few things to get straight: what little knowledge I have about the Olympics, the Village, and ice skating in general is very limited and based solely on what I can find online. Please go easy on me; I’m new to this world. Most of my research for Beijing’s Games is speculation based on past Winter Olympics combined with me also making some of it up.

Also, as we know, we only got one season of this amazing show. While I have done my fair share of research (aka watched every Katstin scene an embarrassing amount of times), if you don’t remember some of the smaller details I mention it’s quite possibly because I made them up. Bare with me and go with it. I’m doing my best.

-

She’s been staring at the ceiling for nearly two hours. She knows this because in those two hours, Kat Baker has looked at the clock more times than she can count. But she’s done her best to stay still and focus on sleep, because if ever a good reason to need a solid night’s rest, this is it. Plus, she isn’t alone.

But it’s been nearly two hours. And after feeling her bedmate shift for the third time in less than ten minutes, she can’t help herself.

“Are you awake?” she speaks softly in case she’s wrong.

“Yes.” Justin’s voice comes so instantaneously it’s obvious he has been for a while. He rolls over onto his side to face her, clearly fed up with the charade. “I know we’re supposed to be too excited to sleep or whatever, but I figured jet lag and exhaustion would kick in eventually.”

Kat sighs. “I don’t think I can lay here anymore.”

“Screw it. Let’s go walk around or something. Get some food. I don’t know,” He shrugs, “Everything is open 24/7 here. Might as well take advantage of it.”

Kat bites at her lip. They have practice tomorrow at 9am sharp and Dasha will kill them if they’re stumbling around exhausted, but she’s so stir crazy right now she can’t bring herself to care.

“Alright, let’s go.”

They both dress quickly and head for the door, remembering to grab their ID badges from the nightstand and doing their best to remain silent as they slip through the common room. Their hands find each other in the elevator as they depart from the ninth floor, and they both give a courteous nod to security as they exit the dorm.

February in Beijing is beautiful, and despite being nothing more than a glorified college campus, the Olympic Village somehow still manages to blow both Kat and Justin’s minds. With a large handful of sky-high dormitories divided up by country, the Village is filled with basic amenities like a post office, bank, laundry facility, a convenience store, several gyms, and a huge cafeteria containing cuisine from around the world at every hour of the day.

Kat and Justin have been here for eight days so far. The first two days were spent getting settled with the other Team USA skaters and personnel, the third day they participated in the Opening Ceremony, and the remaining time has been spent using their allotted practice sessions, hitting the gym for light workouts, and enjoying the experience. They’ve also seen a few events, which is a highlight, and done a couple interviews (Dasha promises there are more to come- super) and some press work.

Mostly though, they’ve been staying close and trying to remain in a good headspace. Their competition begins in three days and their families arrive tomorrow, so for the most part they’re taking Dasha’s advice and focusing on each other.

“This is yours to lose,” she’d said. “Don’t over-think anything. Just stick together and enjoy it.”

This probably isn’t what she meant, but whatever.

After leaving the dorms behind, the duo makes the short walk into the heart of the Village, the nightlife scene far more alive than some might expect. The Village is open 24 hours a day for a reason. Some athletes prefer to train in the later hours, jetlag affecting a large amount, and some seem to need an escape to rid themselves of the jitters. One thing is clear though: everyone is tense. It’s like a university during finals- the pressure is on and everyone is feeling it.

“We should probably skip the caffeine, but how ‘bout hot chocolate?” Justin proposes, their linked hands swaying between them as they approach the commissary.

Kat nods. As much as a huge cup of coffee sounds appealing right now, he’s right. With any luck they’ll hopefully be able to manage at least a few hours of shuteye after this little excursion and a latte screams bad call.

After getting two steaming cups of cocoa (caramel in hers- she’d agreed to forgo the caffeine, not the sugar) they find an empty bench just far enough off the main pathway for a bit of privacy. So far it’s been a blast meeting and getting to know the other athletes from around the world, including several of Kat and Justin’s personal idols, but two AM just isn’t the hour preferred for socializing.

For a while they sit in silence, enjoying the peace and tranquility and the rare chance to people-watch the night owls between sips from their respective biodegradable cups.

“Feeling any sleepier?” Justin questions finally, causing the brunette under his arm to sigh.

“Will you judge me if I say that I’m even more awake than before?”

Justin lets out a curse. “I was hoping it was just me.”

“Gotta love Olympic life,” she ruses, “Well, I’m not going to the gym.”

“Fuck that,” he agrees. They’ve been practicing nonstop as it is. Neither of them is in the mood to ruin what little free time they do have, especially since Dasha never shuts up about the importance of not overdoing it.

“I don’t know. Nothing sounds appealing.” Kat continues, “But I don’t want to just sit here all night.”

For a moment silence falls again until Justin begins to fidget, shifting in his seat and catching her attention.

“What?” she demands, the look in his eye giving him away just like always.

“Nothing.” He quickly dismisses, shaking his head. “Never mind. I’m an idiot. Forget it.”

Kat rolls her eyes. “I know you’re an idiot,” she teases, “You’re my idiot though, which means I’m privy to all of your idiocy.”

“Seriously Kat, drop it. It was a dumbass thought. Let it go.”

“Hey,” the change of tone in his voice causes her to pull back, finding his eyes. Clearly he’s getting upset about something. “Talk to me.”

Justin stares at her for a minute. “You’re gonna get pissed.” He warns.

“Seriously, Justin, just tell me what’s going on.”

“Fine,” He pauses again, this time so long Kat is about to lose it, when he finally blurts, “We could get married.”

Silence.

“What?” It takes all of Kat’s strength not to screech the word. “Are you- what?”

“I said it was dumb!”

“It’s the middle of the night.” she sputters. “Our families aren’t here. We’ve only been together-”

“What feels like forever sometimes,”

Kat gives him a dirty look. “Really? You’re choosing now to fuck around?”

He raises his hands in defense.

“Look, it was just something that popped in my head.”

“Of all the possibilities, this was the random thought you had?”

Justin glances toward the ground, causing her eyes to go wide.

“This isn’t the first time?” Kat pauses, her voice finally falling back down to its regular decibel. “You’ve thought about this before?”

“Have I thought about marrying you?” Justin snorts, giving up on his hesitance as the insanity of the situation triggers brutal honesty. “I’m 25, Kat, and I’ve been in love with you longer than the two years we’ve been together. Yes, I’ve thought about it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says quickly. “I don’t have a binder filled with details or anything. It’s just something I’ve thought about, that’s all.”

This seems to catch her attention.

“Like what?”

“Like… I don’t know.” He shrugs. “You probably don’t want something too big or flashy. Which is awesome, because while my dad will lose his shit and it’ll drive Mandy nuts, I’m actually on board with small and simple. And I know you’ll kill me if I spend too much on the ring, which is the one thing I already have covered-”

“You have it covered?” she interrupts. “Like what, you’ve already bought it?”

He pauses for a minute, staring at her before letting out a sigh.

“I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Justin, seriously, I swear to fucking god-”

“Fine!” he holds up his hands in surrender. “Just give me ten minutes. Stay here.”

“Stay here? Where are you going?” she wants to hit him when he rises from the bench. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“Stay here!” He repeats.

“Fuck off!” she cries, yet for some reason her ass remains glued to her seat.

The following ten minutes pass in a slow blur, because what the actual fuck? Ironically it isn’t their relationship, but the fact that they’re skating for Olympic medals in three days that assures her he wouldn’t just leave her sitting in the middle of the Village like a moron, when Justin returns with his hands in his pockets, looking even more nervous than when he left. (Which is understandable, because there’s at least a 50% chance this could lead to his death.)

He lets out a breath as he sits back down next to her, finally revealing his hands and holding up a respectably sized (but not too gaudy) ruby in a band of gold. He places the ring in the palm of her hand, giving a small shrug.

“It was my mom’s.” he explains quietly. “I’ve had it since she died. Dad said she planned on giving it to me eventually.”

“Justin-”

“Look, it was a dumb idea. And I didn’t mean to freak you out, especially when literally the biggest event of our lives is in three days, but… I don’t know.” He shrugs again. “I just started talking and you didn’t stop me. So here we are.”

“So what, you just carry this with you everywhere you go?”

“Fuck you. It’s called being prepared, Baker.”

Kat goes quiet for a minute, her eyes falling from his understandably stressed face to the ring still perched in her palm. This is quite literally the last thing she ever would’ve expected, and yet for some reason the idea of turning him down isn’t her gut reaction. It’s crazy, yeah, but she does love him and they’ve been together for a while. Hell, practically everyone and their brother has brought it up, so it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it, and at the end of the day she could think of a lot worse ways to live her life than spending it with Justin.

“Your mom must’ve had small hands too. Although… I guess we won’t really know if it fits unless you put it on me.” She murmurs finally, causing his head to snap up.

“What?”

“I mean, I won’t be able to wear it on the ice, obviously,” she continues, “And we should probably wait until after the Games to tell anyone, because it’ll only be more pressure if we’re labeled the American Newlywed team. Plus, our families are no question going to kill us- Dasha at the front of the line. We’ll probably have to have some sort of party to make it up to them. Especially Mandy.”

“Are you saying yes?” he asks breathlessly, still unsure if he’s in a daze or acquired brain damage from the cold.

A small grin breaks out on Kat’s face. “I must be crazier than we thought.”

“You’re saying yes!” he surges forward to kiss her, hoping all of his joy can be transmitted through the pressure of his lips. “Holy shit.”

“Does it count if you never put the ring on me?” she questions through a giggle, causing him to let out a laugh of his own as he takes the ring and slides it onto her finger with shaking hands.

“Perfect fit.” He observes, part of him not even surprised because fate is just on their side tonight apparently, before leaning in to kiss her again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She grins. “Mr. Baker,”

Justin laughs. “You joke, but I really could not care less.” He pauses for a second. “Hey, look, I’m sorry this isn’t something better. I mean, I wasn’t planning on renting out the Eiffel Tower or anything, but I wanted to at least make a speech or something. Most of all I know it’s something I planned to talk to you about beforehand.”

Kat shrugs. “Might as well have this be just as weird and dysfunctional as everything else about our lives, right?” She says with a dry laugh. “Besides, you can save the speech for your vows.”

Justin stares at her for a second. “You seriously want to get married at 3AM in a foreign country, in secret, three days before the biggest competition of our careers?”

“Are you getting cold feet already?”

He laughs. “I’m just making sure I’m not dreaming.” He says honestly.

“Oh, you’re awake. And it’s too late to back out now, Davis.” She holds up her left hand where the ring sparkles, looking, Justin can’t help but notice, like it’s always belonged there. “I’ve already got the hardware.”

Justin grins. “Guess I’m stuck then.”

“Looks like it.”

“Huh.” He stands up from the bench and offers her his hand. “Then let’s go get married.”

-

Part 2 Coming Soon. ;)

[dearlazerbunny]

Lie to Me (Ch. 10 of ?)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 2800

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug for their constant loveliness

Requested Tags: @deraniel @iamverity @yasnooshka24@wegingerangelica@themusingsofmany @dark-night-sky-99 @tarynkauai@stuffandstuff-stuffand the total sweetie @angelicshinigami @my-current-fandom-is @geekysimmerthings

WARNING: I have an extremely basic white girl taste in music. Rather than actual classics, I decided to stick with what I know, because I personally think it’s funnier to imagine Loki reacting to Kesha than the Beatles. Please do not scream at me for my horrible taste in music. I know it’s mainstream. But also you can pry my all consuming love for TSwift out of my cold, dead hands, okay thank you for coming to my TEDTalk

Something you’ve come to like about Loki is that he can appreciate silence.

Everyone seems to think that two people sitting quietly has to be awkward; something to avoid- but really, there’s nothing better than being in a room with someone, each doing their own thing, but enjoying the other person’s presence nonetheless. It’s a kind of comfortable that only comes with a severe amount of trust in the soul sitting across from you. Trust that you aren’t simply something to entertain them, or a mouth to keep them occupied- they like you even if all they’re doing is watching your eyebrows quirk as you read a particularly fascinating novel.

Sure, most of your visits are still full of back-and-forth bickering that could rival a fifties sitcom- you never seem to run out of things to talk about- but some days, when he can tell you’ve had a row you’d really rather not discuss, or you know he’s simply not in the headspace to chat, the two of you will simply sit and be. You’ll page through a book or scribble down some thoughts on your notepad while he laces and unlaced his long fingers into intricate patterns, content to sift through his thoughts.

Though you do mark down a note to talk to someone about getting him a few books. He’s got to be bored in there.

To your surprise, these quiet days quickly become your favorites because as much as you love his twisted sense of sarcasm, you like his singing voice more.

Sometimes, Loki will hum.

It’s always very quiet, under his breath, and most of the time you think he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. But every so often you’ll pause from whatever you’re doing to listen to the faint melodies coming from his cell. It’s never anything you’ve heard before, and the music is hopeful and happy and tragic and uplifting all at once, the kind of thing that makes you want to smile and cry at the same time. They must be from Asgard, because you doubt any music from Earth could ever sound like this.

You never mention it, though. You’re afraid if you call attention to it, he’ll stop, and the songs seem to give him a small bit of joy in his lonely bubble of isolation. You’d never want to take that away from him.

Today, rather than reading, you’ve got your arms curled up underneath your head and are fighting (and mostly failing) to keep your eyes open. You got caught up on a project last night and didn’t even realize what time it was until he sun was peeking through your curtains, leaving you to chug several cups of coffee and hope for the best.

But Loki is humming and the music is making you drowsy and warm which is not a great combination for wanting to stay awake. For his part, he doesn’t tease you about very obviously falling asleep on your desk, which you appreciate- you’re pretty sure any comebacks thought up right now would be incredibly lame

“ ‘S pretty,” you mumble, trying to blink the blurriness out of your eyes. Ugh. You hate all-nighters.

“Pardon?”

“You have a pretty voice.”

He doesn’t respond for a minute- though that might have been because you fell asleep for a second- but eventually he just chuckles briefly. “Thank you, I suppose. It does tend to be part of my appeal.”

“Your singing voice, stupid. It’s pretty.” A yawn nearly splits your face in half, and you blink at him blearily.

“When have you ever heard me sing?”

“Well you hum. Same thing. ‘S nice. Never heard it before.”

“I see.” He lapses into silence, and you frown.

“Well don’t stop.”

“I- I am not sure I even know what I was humming.”

You grumble, frustrated. “It was like-” you lilt into a vague approximation of one of his songs, the one that makes you think of a sunflower field on a misty day. “Like that. Kind of.”

Now he properly laughs. “I apologize, I don’t believe I can recreate… whatever it is you just pulled out of your sleep-addled brain.”

“Never said I was a singer.” Another yawn. “Sing something else then.”

“The Witling is quite pushy when exhausted,” he says amused. “Noted.”

“Shu’ up.” With a huff, your head is back in the crook of your elbow. “Why do I even like you.”

“For lullabies, apparently.”

You don’t quite catch that bit, as the drowsiness has finally caught up with you- your eyes close, you curl yourself into a more comfortable position. Loki stares at you, somewhat amazed that you feel comfortable enough to be so vulnerable with him in the room. You look peaceful, content- something warm sparks in him. “It was something my mother sang me, when I was young,” he admits, when he knows for sure you can’t hear. “I seem to recall it chased away nightmares quite effectively.”

But he does start up his lullaby again. It pulls on the homesickness in his chest, but it also makes you smile softly in your sleep.

You dream of sunflowers.

                                                          XXX

“Okay, since I basically forced you to culture me on Asgardian music-”

“I believe you underestimate your incredibly rude demands.”

“I- I was half asleep! I wasn’t trying to on purpose-” you stop when Loki grins, making it obvious that he’s only teasing you. You huff. “Whatever. You suck. Don’t interrupt. Since I basically forced you to culture me on Asgardian music-” you pull out your phone and plunk it on the table. “I’m going to culture you in some Midgardian music.”

“I… see…”

“Don’t look so terrified, I’m not going to subject you to screamo headbangers or anything.” Loki gives you a look, the one that says what on Midgard are you talking about, you strange mortal. “I’m going to start you off with the classics.”

“Be still my beating heart.”

“I know, you should be grateful. My taste in music is the epitome of class and excellence.”

“…of course.”

You pull your phone out of your pocket and flick through your playlists, wondering what to dive into first. “Are you feeling something upbeat or angsty?”

Loki snorts, which is hilariously undignified for him. “I defer to your judgement.”

“A wise choice.” After a few flicks of the screen, you turn your volume up to full blast and sit back to listen.

“I got too many people… got left to prove wrong…”

Serene acoustic guitar washes through the room, and you drum your fingers on your thigh in time to Kesha’s voice. “Don’t let the bastards get you down…”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Is this your way of attempting to be inspirational?”

You grin at him. “I thought it’d be uplifting.” “Been underestimated… my entire life…”

Once that song is over, you scroll a bit and click to a more techno, pop-y sounding beat. “I knew you were trouble when you walked in…” Again, he stares at you from behind the glass. “What? It’s a great song! One of her best!”

He wrinkles his nose. “Beyond the obvious message…. I do not believe I’m a fan.”

“Hm. Your loss. Honestly I’m disappointed I didn’t name you Trouble instead of Trickster, this would be a perfect theme song for you.” At his death glare, you hold your hands up, giggling. “Okay, okay! Next one…”

You roll through a couple of P!nk’s newer works, guessing he might appreciate the poetic lyrics, and then just because you want to you throw in a couple K-Pop groups, and then asked him for translations on the songs you’ve never bothered to google. “And this is currently the quintessential Midgardian music experience.” The first few strains of the goddamn song nobody can get out of their heads, Let it Go, begins to play. “It’s from a musical called Frozen, based on the old fairytale The Snow Queen.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him suggestively. “Magical ice powers, frozen hearts. The whole shebang.”

His eye rolls are really something spectacular. “Fascinating.”

“I just thought you’d appreciate the theme!”

He tilts his head. “Am I missing a joke, Witling?”

You grin at him. “You know, being a frost giant and all. I thought you could really, I dunno, empathize?”

Loki- well, Loki does something, something you can’t quite describe other than a  complete and systematic mass shutdown. It’s like his very soul suddenly ascends and leaves behind a body that can do nothing but breathe and blink. His eyes go opaque, and even the casual tapping and twitching of his fingers stutters and then stills. He practically disappears in front of your very eyes, as invisible as a person can be behind a pane of glass. Something in your stomach immediately turns. “Um, Loki? You okay?”

“How did you know that.” His voice is toneless, and quieter than you’ve ever heard it, even in those beginning days where he did nothing but huff and sigh at your existence.

You’re confused, but more than that, you’re frantically wondering what you did to cause such anguish to appear on his face. “How did I know…? I don’t know what you mean.”

“That I- I’m not-” he takes a breath, and it shudders out of him so achingly slowly something about it breaks your heart. “A frost giant.”

“How did I know that…you’re a frost giant…? I mean, like everything else we knew about you, from old poems and stories…” there’s a flare of anger in his eyes that scares you. “Is that- is that not good?”

“You say you knew this from the old stories?” His voice is still quiet, but now there’s something simmering beneath it.

“Yeah. The Poetic Edda and all that. I think they’re described as a race in Beowulf which is like, freshman English 101.” Silence. Heavy, stifling, suffocating silence. Your chest heaves from the pressure of it. “Loki? You’re scaring me here.”

The life crashes back into him all at once, and he’s suddenly as hot and dangerous as a flare lit to explode. “You knew this?” He roars, up on his feet and practically vibrating with intensity. His glare pins you to your seat. “You knew- the pathetic Midgardians, of all the races in the galaxy, knew my own secrets before even I?” He laughs violently, his entire body shaking with the force of it. “Of course they did! Because what luck would the universe afford me other than heinous? Other than disgusting-” his cot gets thrown from its position in the corner to the other side of his cell- “rotted-” his hands clench; knuckles white- “fate!” He stands amid the small chaos he’s created, heaving, eyes wild and looking for something to destroy.

You’ve curled yourself up a small as possible, watching the scene unfold with your heart in your throat. “Loki?” You whisper, not noticing a small tear drip onto your cheek. “I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said but I’m so sorry-”

When he whirls on you, notices your wide eyes, a little of his rage dissipates. “No, Witling, it is not-” he groans, clearly frustrated, and runs his fingers through his hair to direct his anger somewhere other than you. “You did nothing, other than confirm that the world is infinitely cruel.” His laugh is darker this time, more bitter. “That is a not a new lesson to me, have no fear.”

“I- I don’t understand.”

“I do not see how you would.” He looks away, but you get the idea that he’s tying to avoid his own reflection rather than you. His hands clench and unclench.  “I am not sure how your poets came upon such knowledge, but it becomes more and more clear that their sources outrank even my own.”

Realization smack you so suddenly there’s a physical sting on your cheek. “You… you didn’t know. You didn’t know?” How is that even possible?

He grimaces. “Not until a scant year ago.”

You stare at him. “You didn’t know that you were a frost giant until a year ago.” He opens his mouth to say something scathing about your parroting habit, but you cut him off. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I just- how? Why?”

“Why does Odin do anything?” He snarls. “To manipulate. To lie. To raise torment.”

His tone is cutting, but his eyes are lost. Despite the anger radiating off of him in waves, he stands in his white cell alone, adrift, with nothing to anchor him. Ever so slowly, you push back your chair and stand- he eyes you like a caged animal, which is all too accurate to his situation- and walk to him, gauging his reaction as you go. He only watches, so you eventually get close enough to reach out and touch the glass in front of you. You can’t offer anything but that. “Tell me?”

Loki’s sigh caries millennia of unspoken stories. “I would not tell a tale you already know.”

You shake your head a little. “I think I’m realizing we never knew the first thing about you.”

He looks at you for a moment, apparently weighing your words. “It is quite simple. On a mission to slaughter the Jotunn, my father came across an abandoned child in the middle of the battlefield. He concealed its nature and brought it to Asgard to raise in hopes of one day using it as a bargaining chip for peace.”

It. He speaks of himself like a thing, not a person. “Why did he never tell you?”

“Because it would have risked disloyalty, and crippled his plans.” His eyes darken. “If I had realized sooner that I could never take the throne, never truly be a prince of Asgard…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, but you can guess the sentiment.

“He used you.” The simple fact hangs naked in the air, a revelation for you but old news to the god in the cell.

“From the day he spotted me. I was never more than a pawn to him.”

“But didn’t you look different?” You blurt out, trying to wrap your head around the inconsequential details in order to ignore the more painful implications. “I mean- I don’t know what frost giants- Jotunn- look like, really, but…”

He does smile a little at that. “Magic mimics, and illusions are quite easy to conjure. I imagine my subconscious did the work for me.”

“Oh.” You glance at the cuffs on his wrists. “Do they not do anything then?”

“I assure you they work properly,” he sighs. “I would assume Midgardian technology is not capable of suppressing every ounce of magic I possess.”

Your finger traces an outline of his manacles on the glass, leaving smudges. “I’m so sorry.”

Loki looks at you. “It’s ancient history, Witling.”

“How can you say that? Of course it’s not!”

“I realized my father’s love was conditional very quickly, even if I did not know why. I have had a century to deal with the fallout.”

“That- doesn’t make me feel better.” You cross your arms, desperately searching for solid footing. “So you were alone?”

“No.” His voice softens. “My mother- she loved me as a mother should. I do not think I would have survived without her.”

The both of you stand quietly for a minute as your world resettles on its axis. Loki eventually rights his cot and sits down on it, waiting for you to speak first.

“I bet you’re beautiful.” He looks at you, confused. “I mean your other form- self? Carvings aren’t very detailed, most people said the Jotunn were fiercely stunning.”

“Jotunn are monsters, Witling. The things you tell your children of at night. There is nothing beautiful about me.”

“You aren’t a monster.”

“The stories would say otherwise.”

“Well then maybe the stories are wrong,” you say harshly. His eyes meet yours, vulnerable. “Because I know monsters, Loki, I have plenty of my own. You do not share their face, believe me.” He doesn’t seem to know what to make of that- he seems caught between denial and disbelief. “Tell me about your mother.”

So he does. He tells you of her never ending patience when his burgeoning magic was more hinderance than help, and how her healing hands could stitch together even the most dire of wounds. How she could rein in Odin’s temper and even change his mind in the dead of night. How she would know exactly where he would hide when he was upset, and leave a mark or sign so he would know he wasn’t alone.

With every story, his sadness seems to chip away, and his anger fades. Your heart is still crying, but you’ve at least pulled yourself together enough for the tears to dry up, and smile and encourage Loki to keep going whenever he hesitates.

Throughout it all, you murmur small thank-you’s to Frigga in the back of your mind, for carrying him through when you couldn’t.

A/N: Get it? Because they dated for like three weeks and everyone thought it was strange?

Guys. I have two chapters left. TWO. And they’re not hard chapters. So why have I been staring at them for a week not able to write either of them??? BLERGH. 

[fortheloveofeos]

The Vanguard - Chapter 7

Happy Holiday Season, y’all. I’ve been doing some writing that I’ve forgotten to post. I’ve got a few things up my sleeve I hope to have up over the season. Hopefully, the girls will be back in full force along with a new story that I intended to be one chapter per Chocobro but probably will be longer because my brain takes off sometimes. 

Get ready for angst and backstory.

XXX

Eirwen had been silent since the incident several hours before. Gladio had steered her away from the training area of the Citadel and into the back garden in hopes the quiet and seclusion would give her some peace. For hours he had watched her pace, absently trailing fingers over the stone walls and leaving a trail of ice behind her. Finally unable to watch her self loath any longer, Gladio had dared to speak and ask her where she wanted to go. Her answer had been a vague “anywhere that’s not here” before he had handed her his extra helmet and they sped off through the busy streets of Insomnia. She had followed him almost blindly until she heard him rattle his keys as he opened the door to his apartment - conveniently across the street from the building Prince Noctis had recently taken up residence. 

The apartment was entirely decorated in dark leathers, navy blue, and dark wood. Photos of scenic mountain views and pictures of his family were scattered along the walls. “This is...impressive,” Eirwen paused as she caught sight of the floor to ceiling custom shelves that housed an incredible number of books - most bound in hardbacks with titles covering subjects ranging from history to culture to largest number of war and strategy books she had ever seen outside of that section in the Citadel library. She also noted the fair number of fiction books scattered throughout and couldn’t help but see that more than one seemed to be romance novels. Trailing her finger over their spines, she was shocked to see how immaculate the collection was - no creases or signs or weather and absolutely not dust to be seen. 

Keys clattered somewhere behind her as Gladio deposited them into the bowl by the door and removed his heavy boots. “Bit of a hoarder when it comes to books. Coffee or tea?” 

Pulling an old leather-bound tomb from the shelf, Eirwen scanned the pages of a guerilla warfare strategy written in Ancient Lucien. “Milk?” 

“Coconut.” 

Nodding, Eirwen carefully thumbed through the yellowing pages. “Coffee, then.” Various sounds of cabinets opening and shutting and then of a brewing coffee pot filtered around her as she scanned the old runes advising on the importance of partners and scouting teams. 

Minutes late, Gladio handed her a steaming cup of fresh coffee that was just the right shade of dark caramel. He took up residence on the couch beside her, careful not to touch her but remaining close enough that she might know he meant to offer her comfort if she needed it.

Looking at her now, Eirwen looked nothing like the ice goddess she had appeared to be earlier in the day. Currently, her skin was flushed pink from worry and the heat of the coffee, her blue eyes bright with something akin to anger but without such force. She had tucked her legs under herself and curled into the corner of the couch as if trying to take up a strategic position to protect herself. Gladio had never witnessed such power before today - not even when King Regis had renewed the power that held up the wall protecting the city of Insomnia. It was incredible to think that any mortal could wield such power.

Exhaling, Eirwen closed the book with a sense of finality and caught the slight jump from Gladio out of the corner of her eye. Rubbing at her forehead, she forced herself to speak evenly. “You’re scared of me now?” She hoped she hadn’t sounded angry when Gladio was the only person who seemed willing and eager to listen to things from her perspective without jumping in and trying to give her advice. He was her partner in battle. 

“Scared of you?” Gladio readjusted himself so that he more easily faced her but did his best to appear relaxed as he reclined his arms across the back and sipped his cooling coffee. “I’m not afraid of you, snowflake. I’m worried for you. There’s a big difference.”

A humorless laugh escaped her. Leaning forward, she twisted the length of her pale locks between her fingers and focused on controlling her emotions so as not to turn the Shield-in-Training’s apartment into a meat locker. “Don’t worry about me. I’m always ready for battle.” In fact, punching something sounded like a wonderful idea at the moment. 

Finishing his coffee, Gladio deposited the cup onto the coffee table before making a show of giving her his full attention. “I’m not doubting your training and abilities - a few rounds with you on the training mats has proven you’re more than capable in that department. What happened earlier between you and Amira has me worried. I felt...whatever that was that you pushed out at her. I watched her freeze over. I saw your expression when you pulled yourself back out.” He didn’t ask her to explain, nor did he demand answers or promises that she wouldn’t do the same to him. 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Gladio. I can’t explain it. It happened once, years ago. Amira…” trailing off, Eirwen raked her hands through her hair in frustration as if hoping to pull the words from her head. “It was like she 

 me when I was completely broken - or at least patched me back together. I wanted to try to do the same for her but I couldn’t find it, I couldn’t find what hurt her.” Tears of frustration threatened to spill from her eyes and she angrily wiped at them. “I couldn’t do the same for her. What good is this power if I can’t even protect the people I care about.” Forcing herself up from the couch, she marched over to the large window looking down on the busy streets below and pressed her forehead against the cool glass hoping to calm herself down. “She’s the only family I have.”

Silence rang out through the apartment. Distant sirens and the sounds of city life filtered between the two warriors to break up the deafening quiet. Gladio, for all his reading and knowledge in how to handle emotional trauma when related to combat, loss, and injury, was at a complete loss. Another not so well kept secret of the Twins: bad family relations. To his knowledge, Eirwen had none to speak of. In the file Cor had given him in preparation for his first mission with her, she was listed as a ward of the Citadel until she had become of legal age. Gladio, on the other hand, was fortunate enough to have an actual family. 

“You don’t have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I’ve got your back now, Eirwen - on and off the battlefield.” Gladio walked past her to the kitchen to put away the dirty dishes as he spoke, hoping not to make her feel pressured or closed in. “People care about you.” He had seen the way Crowe, Libertus, Pelna, and Nyx were with her and it was clear they had forged a bond that was deeper than camaraderie or friendship.

Across town and shaking from over exertion and residual tingles of forced magic, Amira leaned against the window from her perch. Purple lightning cracked in the distance each time her fingers twitched. It had been hours since the incident and she could still feel the sorrow in her heart left by Eirwen just before their connection snapped. The bone deep chill had left her almost as soon as it had arrived but now she felt oddly warm in a way that reminded her of post fever.

Nyx had been kind enough to make her a pot of gunpowder tea, piping hot and slightly bitter. She also vaguely noticed that he had switched on the radio to a low jazz to fill the ringing silence of her mind. He moved with familiarity and confidence in her home and she couldn’t help feeling both grateful and annoyed at the same time. 

“You don’t need to stay.” She hated how quiet and weak her voice sounded but she felt the need to at least offer him a way out of the current situation. Other than Eirwen, she wasn’t really accustomed to anyone trying to take care of her even after her injury.

“And you don’t need to catch the flu pressed against the window, princess.” Nyx chuckled at the obscene hand motion Amira quickly shot his way and was relieved to see she seemed to be clawing her way back out of herself. “I’m not going anywhere until we figure this out.” When Amira opened her mouth to argue, he was quick to stop her and refocus her attention on the larger goal in hopes of getting her to face the current issue. “We’ll be called back into the field any day now and since you’ve been cleared, I need to know you’re in the right headspace.” If he couldn’t get her to consider the issue as a work-related problem, he would have no hope of getting her to open up about personal issues.

Nodding, Amira worried the warm mug between her fingers. “I told you, I felt something snap. I’ve never felt her so far away - not when we’re separated by thousands of miles.” Assuring her that the connection could be fixed, Nyx urged her to continue. “Whatever she was looking for...something seemed to break her heart.”

“I’m sure she’s just worried about you. The two of you have always had each other -” Nyx stopped short as his phone vibrated in his pocket. The only people that had his number were Glaives and other work associates and the only time it rang was due to some work related issue. Fishing it out from the pocket of his jeans, he was surprised to see Pelna’s name lighting up the screen. “Report,” he offered by way of greeting.

Amira watched and Nyx’s eyes narrowed slightly and his stubbled jaw clenched. Though Pelna couldn’t see him, he nodded several times and made agreeable noises to urge him to continue. After a few moments, Nyx ended the call and ran a hand over his suddenly weary face. This time, it was Amira who was concerned by the sudden quiet. “Seems we have a bit of work to do.”

“Pelna cracked the firewall and found some sort of list he immediately sent to Cor - who informed him that several emissaries from the Empire are planning a visit to attend the Foreign Relations Gala in a few days.” A crease had taken up residence on Nyx’s forehead as he repeatedly ran the conversation through his mind. 

Shocked, Amira was silent for a moment as she processed the information. “They’re not planning a confrontation in front of a room of international dignitaries. Could they have realized that I copied that file?” 

“There’s no way they’re that stupid. They’re up to something, though. Pelna also reported increased military activity at the northern border - encampments, patrol, the works.” Sighing, he leaned back against the counter and studied Amira closely. “Looks like the vacation is over.” He paused momentarily hoping to choose his next words correctly. “You’re not going to...like what I have in mind.” 

Sighing, Amira pulled herself up from the window and stood to face her partner. “I rarely do,” she reassured him.

XXX

Unlike her Twin, Amira had grown up in what anyone on the outside looking in would consider a perfect home. Malcolm and Nadia Everet were the storybook couple - Malcolm hailed from one of the richest, self-made families in all Lucis while Nadia, coming from old Lucian nobility, had been raised as if she herself were next in line to the throne. When the two had married nearly three decades earlier, neither bride or groom had ever laid eyes on the other prior to meeting at the altar and both had approached the scenario as if it were a business transaction to further themselves and their families. When Amira had been born, she had instantly become the new bargaining chip for her parents and had been ushered through years of etiquette classes, ballroom dance lessons, advanced tutoring, fashion and beauty seminars, and all the formal parties her parents could drag her to. Amira had grinned and curtsied through it all, praying to the Six for a way out.

Things had remained tortuously the same until her fifteenth birthday. For years, she had begged her parents to allow her to train with her paternal uncle and member of the Royal Kingsguard, Declan - her justification being that she should know how to defend herself should her pedigree ever put her in harm’s way. Finally, after much pressure from her uncle, her parents had relented and allowed her to train two days a week for a few hours in place of the cardio workout her personal trainer had devised for her. Immediately, she had fallen in love with the raw violence and unstructured chaos that came from physical combat and had shown real promise for someone so young. Her uncle worked with her continuously had been able to nearly ensure her a position within the guard after her college graduation, even going so far as to go against her parent’s wishes for her by involving King Regis himself. She couldn’t have found anything more removed from her original life if she had tried - or at least she had thought until her training accident had sealed her fate. 

Uncomfortable falling back into bad memories, Amira kept fidgeting in her seat and pulling at the garment she had hoped she would never wear. The couture gown had been stashed away in its original box since her parents had sent it to her over a year ago in hopes of enticing her back into the spotlight her family thrived in. The saving grace was that the dress was at least mostly black. Made of the highest quality black satin and an overlay of organza, the floor length gown possessed a custom fitted corset with an off-the-shoulder sweetheart neckline that dipped between her breasts exposing a bit more skin than she felt entirely comfortable with. The draped split sleeves fell beyond her wrists, perfectly displaying the tattoo of delicate roses twisting and blooming down her arm, and a careful slit ran up the long skirt to her mid thigh on one side. Hand embroidered gold applique leaves and vines decorated the bodice and skirts while the sleeves and trims were encrusted with shimmering gold glass beads. She had paired the dress with a pair of black designer pumps with a scarlet bottom adorned with a criss-crossing straps that buckled just above the ankle and glittering gold and diamond drop earrings. She’d had to buy new makeup as she had avoided wearing it as much as possible in recent years and had opted for a heavy-handed winged eyeliner and a dark plum lipstick. 

“If you pull continue to pull at the dress, you’re going to end up ripping it before we get to the gala.”

Sighing, Amira arched a perfectly filled in brow at her uncle Declan who was comfortably dressed in his usual Guard uniform of black slacks and dress shirt. He’d only added a jacket and patent leather shoes to his daily ensemble. “You know how much I hate this. I thought by becoming a Glaive I could wipe my hands of all this.” Contempt leaked into her words as she studied her black and gold manicure. 

Chuckling, Declan straightened his jacket and offered his niece a knowing grin. His salt and pepper hair mixed with the warm gold of his eyes had always made him so much more inviting than her father. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to walk in heels already? I thought we raised you better than that.”

Immediately, Amira flipped him off with her glittering gold-tipped finger and flipped her half pinned up hair over one shoulder. “Please. We both know I came out of the womb wearing a pair of six inch pumps.” Thankfully, the sleek black vehicle came to a stop and the back door was opened by a smirking hero. “Don’t start with me tonight,” Amira warned Nyx as she slid across the leather seats and carefully out onto the sidewalk before the Citadel. 

Flashing lights erupted from either side of her. As if flipping a switch, Amira smiled for the photographers pushed back her shoulders until she felt the familiar ache beginning in her spine. Declan was quick to take up her elbow as he too paused to allow the paparazzi a moment to capture his image. As the two moved forward towards the grand entrance, Nyx moved to her other side as if to shield her from the cameras. Speaking quickly, Nyx spoke just loud enough for the two Everets to hear him. “Many of the foreign dignitaries have already arrived but no one has spotted anyone from the Empire yet. The others are posted up inside and I will be positioned to see the entire ballroom.” Holding out a gloved hand to Amira, Nyx offered her nearly perfectly clear earpiece. “Pelna just finished these this morning. Don’t worry about it not picking up your voice if you speak quietly, it’s been calibrated to your voice specifically.”

Declan ushered Amira through the glass door before heading to the elevator and pressing the correct floor. “I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but your parents are here and they would like to speak with you. Try not to get blood on the dress.”

Groaning, Amira thumped her head back against the onyx wall of the elevator during her brief moment of normalcy. Tonight, she was once again Amira Everet, heir to the Everet fortune and darling daughter of Malcolm and Nadia. Of course, they had not been briefed on the plan the Vanguard and the Kingsguard were to execute. To them, their daughter was finally coming to her senses. “Six, I am going to need an entire bottle of champagne.” She could already feel the headache beginning to bloom in her temple. 

[pebble-xo]

Painted Hearts (2)

part one; part two; part three; part four; part five; part six; part seven; part eight; part nine; part ten; part eleven; part twelve.

Four missed calls and three text messages.

All from Oh Sehun.

You weren’t purposefully ignoring his attempts at communication but work had that annoying habit of getting in the way. The entire household had been rushed off their feet cleaning and preparing the house for Yuri’s mother, who was coming back from a business holiday in a week’s time. Even though she wasn’t due back straight away, the house had been a flurry of activity that just left you completely exhausted. Every night, you’d finish late and head home, looking at the missed calls and collapsing asleep before you could call him back.

Opening the door to your apartment with a hard shove of your shoulder, you threw your keys down on the sideboard and kicked your shoes off. Already you could feel your body being pulled towards the bed, discarding your uniform along the way as you stumbled across your apartment and flopped down onto the soft mattress. You wrapped yourself like a burrito in your duvet and fumbling around on your nightstand for the TV remote. There was nothing like an old rerun of a terrible sitcom to fall asleep to.

You yawned widely as you fluffed up your pillows and found the most comfortable position. Then you checked your alarm was set on your phone and sighed wearily, staring at the list of missed calls from Sehun. A part of you wanted to call him but you were too tired to think of anything to say. The last thing you wanted was to make a fool of yourself. You were still trying to figure out why he was even bothering with you.

However, you weren’t left worrying long, sleep quickly easing your mind and letting you drift into a peaceful dream.

-x-

“Has Mami made a list of everything that needs to be ordered in?” you asked Sooyoung sternly while the two of you walked down one of the many long corridors in Yuri’s house. Your eyes flickered down to check with the clipboard in your arms at the list of things you needed to tick off throughout the day. It was a long list that was already exhausting you just reading it.

Sooyoung fixed her hair in one of the expensive mirrors dotted on the wall. “If she hasn’t already, I will make sure that’s the next thing she does,” she replied, clipping back the little strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail from the top of her neck.

You made a little note to collect the list later and then read through the rest of the list. “And has all of the silverware been polished?” you inquired, yanking the younger girl away from the mirror.

“I’ll get Minree to do it. You know how super OCD she gets when polishing; it’ll be done in no time,” Sooyoung replied with a teasing salute. It wasn’t often you had to take charge but when you did, the girls liked to tease you for it.

From the opposite end of the corridor, you spotted Jaemin hurrying towards you with a sense of urgency in his step. He stopped in front of you and doubled over breathing hard. “Oh Sehun ... in the Entrance Hall … but Miss Yuri is taking a bath,” he managed to get out with sharp gasps for air.

You frowned at Jaemin in confusion while Sooyoung immediately perked up and started smoothing down her dress. “What is he doing here?” you murmured quietly, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Had he got bored of you missing his calls and decided to try his luck with Yuri instead? As much as you tried not to care, your heart dropped a little at the thought.

“I’ll greet him,” Sooyoung chirped up brightly.

For some reason, your friend’s words snapped you into action. “You need to go down to the kitchens,” you told Sooyoung, stopping the girl in her tracks and turning her in the other direction. “I’ll greet Mr Oh, while you go and find out if Yuri has finished her bath,” you told Jaemin, letting him and Sooyoung dart off in one direction while you went to the Entrance Hall.

You were just about to walk down the grand staircase when you paused right on the first step. Did you look alright? There wasn’t a mirror anywhere nearby so the best you could do was tighten your ponytail and smooth your dress down. Then taking a long deep breath in, you started to descend the staircase, rounding the curve and looking down at the marble floor that Sehun was pacing.

He was dressed in light grey trousers with a black bomber jacket over a plain black t-shirt, looking absolutely effortless with his hands buried in his pockets and his head dipped low while he patrolled the same point on the polished floor. He didn’t notice you coming down the stairs until you were on the last step, his soft coffee coloured eyes finding yours instantly. “I was hoping I’d get to see you,” he said in his low voice, a smile stretching the corners of his perfect lips.

“What are you doing here?” you asked him quietly in case anyone was listening in. There was no one else in the Entrance Hall but in places like this, the walls tended to have ears.

Sehun took long strides towards you until you were face to face. “You said you were too busy with work to talk so I thought I’d come and visit you,” he replied with a smirk. The way he looked at you left your stomach filled with butterflies. His hands twitched by his side and you thought he was going to reach out for you.

To give yourself some headspace, you retreated back a step and held your hands on your stomach. “You can’t just turn up like this. This isn’t just my work; this is Yuri’s house. You’re only complicating things by coming here!” you exclaimed as quietly as you could. It felt so good to see his face but you were constantly aware that anyone could walk in on you.

“I’m not used to girls pushing me away,” Sehun murmured, closing the gap between you both and tracing a long gentle finger from your temple to your chin. “But I kind of like it.” He tilted your chin to force your gaze on his face, watching the corners of his pink lips pull in a devilish smirk.

You raised your hands and prepared to push him away, just as sudden footsteps echoed off the marble in the Entrance Hall, loud and announcing the arrival of the only person who didn’t feel the need to sneak around this house. You stepped back from Sehun just as Yuri came hurrying down the grand staircase, dressed in a casual t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms with her hair still damp from her bath. “Mr Oh, what a pleasant surprise!” she exclaimed brightly, skipping down to the bottom step and walking over to greet her guest.

“It’s nice to see you again Yuri,” he said politely, locking his hands behind his back and bowing low.

Yuri nodded her head and smiled up at Sehun. Was it Sehun who she liked? After the dinner, she mentioned potentially liking one of the two sons. Could it be Sehun?

For some unknown reason, you couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. You shouldn’t, because you didn’t have any claim over the rich boy. Yet you didn’t like the fact that Yuri could be so casual and smiley with Sehun while you were always on constant edge around him.

“What brings you here so unexpectedly?” she asked, scooping her slightly wet hair over her shoulder.

Sehun smirked, his gaze flickering from Yuri to you and then back again. “We’re opening a new hotel on the other side of the city and there’s a big celebration there this evening to commemorate the opening. The only problem is … I’m in need of a date.”

You should have hidden your reaction but his request caught you off guard and left you extremely confused. Had he not said that he came here to see you? Why was he inviting Yuri to some hotel party? As soon as you caught your wits, you dropped your gaze to the floor and stepped back further into the shadows.

There was hesitation from Yuri as well.

“You wouldn’t have to go alone,” Sehun quickly added, his voice low and smooth as silk. “You are more than welcome to bring your personal maid as a plus one.”

At this, your attention snapped up and you saw both Sehun and Yuri staring at you with wide grins on their faces.

“I’ll provide dresses for both of you from our department store, plus I have a salon waiting to get you ready for the event if you both agree to attend,” he continued to explain, making Yuri smile grow even wider.

You could see the sparks alight in her eyes. This wasn’t the first time she had been invited to an event but it was the first time you had been. After every event she would come home and vent about how lonely the event had been, how people only wanted to talk business with her and never actually have fun with her. With the idea that maybe you could accompany her as a guest too, there was a twinkle of hope in her eyes that maybe she could have fun at one of these things.

On the other hand, you were frozen in fear. You didn’t like the spotlight and by the sounds of what Yuri had described, you wouldn’t like such lavish events. Plus, you didn’t want to go and be a third-wheel on Sehun and Yuri’s date. You shook your head slightly and silently pleaded for Yuri to say no but it seemed you hadn’t spontaneously acquired telepathic abilities.

Yuri shuffled in your direction and linked her arm with yours, dragging your unwilling self out of the shadows and into the middle of the marble floor. There you were greeted with Sehun’s dazzling smirk that made his whole face unreadable. “We would absolutely love to attend the event with you,” Yuri exclaimed brightly, keeping a tight hold on your arm.

“The honour is all mine,” Sehun replied like a perfect gentleman, sweeping his arm across his chest and bowing low. Then he straightened up and checked the time on his expensive watch. “I’ll have a car come and collect you in a couple of hours,” he arranged before bidding you both a goodbye.

Stepping out of Yuri’s hold, you tucked your hands behind your back and your eyes locked on the floor. “I’ll see Mr Oh out,” you announced quietly, leaving Yuri to walk up the staircase while you escorted Sehun across the Entrance Hall. Opening one of the two large oak doors, you let Sehun step out first before joining in in the fresh spring air. “

“It looks like I managed to get you to go on a date with me,” Sehun said under his breath, taking the stone steps slowly.

You rolled your eyes and held your hand back from slapping the rich boy for his idiot. “Either you don’t like me as much as you claim or you’re just completely stupid,” you muttered in return, not looking up at his beautiful but distracting face. Once you reached the loose gravel of Yuri’s driveway, you rushed forward and opened the door of Sehun’s car before he or his driver had the chance. “Never turn up at my work like this again Oh Sehun. I don’t care how rich you are. If you ever turn up and threaten my job like this, I will never talk to you again.”

Sehun climbed into the backseat of his sleek black car and looked up at you with a guilty expression. “I realise now that I didn’t approach this situation all that well. I’m sorry,” he apologised and it seemed genuine. “I’ll make it up to you this evening,” he added with an optimistic smile.

You groaned, feeling drained from the night’s events before they had even occurred. “Don’t remind me,” you muttered, slamming the door and stepping back to watch Sehun’s car disappear down the long driveway.

-x-

You lifted the price tag on a sparkly, red gown and almost passed out at the sight of all the zeros. “Yuri! I can’t afford any of the dresses in this store,” you murmured quietly so only your friend would hear. “I don’t even think I could afford a sock,” you scoffed, stepping away from the dress in case you accidentally breathed on it.

Meanwhile Yuri was casually flicking through the rails of expensive dresses, looking completely at home in the luxury boutique you were shopping in. It was no surprise either; she was used to this lifestyle but for you, it was startlingly brand new. “You’re not paying, remember?” she replied, pulling out a royal blue gown and holding it out in front of her.

You rolled your eyes and sighed loudly. “Don’t remind me,” you groaned, thinking about the very reason why you were shopping for a dress in the first place.

Oh Sehun.

Apparently the entire department store, all fifteen floors of designer boutiques and lavish restaurants were owned by Sehun and his family – one business venture amongst many. Being able to physically see the empire he controlled made you want to recoil and hide behind a small rock. His world was so far apart from yours, his life so different to yours. Looking around the blush coloured store with rails of exclusive designer gowns shining under painfully bright spotlights, you squirmed in your spot. This wasn’t a place you fitted in.

“Why don’t I pick a few dresses for you, and you try them on and pick your favourite?” Yuri asked, her bright smile lighting up at the prospect of dressing you up like a doll. You knew she was just excited to have someone with her for something like this.

Not seeing any way out of this torture, you reluctantly nodded and resigned yourself to your fate, while Yuri whizzed around the boutique with practised finesse.

After trying on what felt like a million dresses and hating all of them, you were beginning to lose enthusiasm for this whole idea. Everything you tried on just seemed to make you feel entirely inadequate. You weren’t pretty enough or rich enough to wear such extravagant dresses and there was no fooling anyone, despite Yuri’s best efforts.

In the end you were down to one dress. It was made from a beautiful silver material that seem to sparkle under the harsh lighting as if it was made of a million diamonds. The design was simple; a floor-length dress that glided over your body and made it appear that you had curves, with thin straps that dipped into a low back.

As you turned from side to side in the fitting room, you couldn’t help but admire the way the dress moved, light bouncing off the fabric and making it shimmer as if your body was drenched in molten silver. It was so beautiful and mesmerising – there was no way you could pull off.

“Let me see!” Yuri’s loud voice boomed from the other side of the curtain, interrupting your negative thoughts.

Lifting the hem of the dress off the floor, you pulled back the curtain and stepped out into the private room Yuri was waiting in. You kept your head down as you dropped the skirt and did a slow turn. In your opinion, the only thing wrong with the dress was that you were the one wearing it.

It wasn’t until Yuri clapped her hands together loudly that you peeled your eyes off the velvet floor. “If you don’t get that dress, I’m firing you on the spot,” she teased, pressing her hands into her cheeks and grinning wide. “It was made for you!” she cheered, jumping to her feet.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, looking down at the silver covering your body. It was a beautiful and glamourous gown but you didn’t feel worthy to wear it, nor could you afford it.

Apparently your thoughts were plainly written on your face. “Don’t worry about the money for the moment,” she scolded, approaching you with a smile. “Do you like the dress?”

You nodded timidly.

“Does the dress fit?” she asked, taking your hair down from its usual ponytail so it fell down and framed your face.

You nodded again, tucking your hair behind your ears out of nerves.

Yuri gripped your arms and squeezed them tightly. “Then this is the dress you shall wear,” she declared.

To say you were conflicted was an understatement. You’d never taken anything that you didn’t earn through hard work. Accepting this dress, from a rich stranger no less, went against every bone in your body. “I guess I can return it afterwards,” you resolved quietly, watching the smile on Yuri’s face beam.

“That’s the spirit,” Yuri mocked, shooing you back into the fitting room. “Now get changed because we have a long appointment at the salon.”

“Yay,” you cheered sarcastically, your mind already stuck in dread of what was to come.

-x-

The girl looking back at you in the mirror was a completely different person. She was beautiful: warm eyes framed by long eyelashes, soft pink cheeks that made your skin glow, dark red lips slightly parted in shock, soft hair styled to perfection so no strand was out of place. “Wow,” you breathed, stepping closer to the reflection. Was that really you?

Your eyes traced over the flawless features of the girl, trying to find parts of her that still looked like you after hours in the salon. The way the lips curled up into the same familiar smile, it was you - a prettier version of you, someone who was used to flash cars and designer labels. The perfect costume.

Yuri came up behind you and grinned over your shoulder through the mirror. She looked as gorgeous as ever in a royal blue cocktail dress, glistening jewels dangling down from her ears and the hollow spot of her collarbone. “You look absolutely stunning,” she praised. “I mean you were always pretty but now on a whole new level!”

You laughed, turning on the spot to face her and smile. “Thank you,” you replied with a solemn nod of your head. You may look like the heiress of some lucrative business but you were still Yuri’s maid. “You look beautiful too.” You moved to the side so she could check herself out in the mirror too.

She puckered her lips to smooth out her lipstick before turning slightly and pulling her arm out from behind herself, revealing a red pair of heels like matched the exact colour your lips were painted. “These are my gift to you … for coming with me tonight,” she told you, holding the shoes out for you to take.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you sighed, reluctantly taking the heels out of her hands and thanking Yuri. They were perfectly made and undoubtedly not cheap. Finding a nearby stool, you sat down and lifted your silver dress out of the way so you could slip the heels on and secure them in place.

When you stood up again, a little bit taller now, Yuri beamed and clapped her hands together. “You look perfect,” she exclaimed excitedly, bouncing up and down on the spot before beckoning you closer.

A little unsteady on your feet, you stumbled haphazardly towards Yuri, linking arms with her and letting her lead you out of the salon where the two of you had been getting ready. “How do these things usually go then?” you asked, as you met up with the man that had been escorting you around the department store and followed him into a glass elevator. “I can’t say I’ve attended many hotel openings.”

Yuri giggled, scooping her curled hair over her shoulder. “There’s typically a red carpet,” she started, completely unaware of your face dropping in fear. “Then there will be a little reception with the press to commemorate the opening. After that, there’s usually a dinner and some dancing,” she continued, too excited to pick up on your sudden nerves.

You didn’t sign up for this, to be in front of cameras, to be under the eyes of the press. How were you supposed to act? Girls like Yuri had been raised in the spotlight. However, you were going to look like a deer in headlights.

“This is going to be so much fun,” Yuri squealed, squeezing your arm tightly.

The elevator opened up onto an underground carpark below the department store, where a tall handsome figure was waiting for you both beside a long sleek limousine. As Yuri led you out, Sehun peeled himself off the shiny car and stepped closer into a stream of light that revealed just how beautiful he looked in his navy tuxedo that reminded you of stormy clouds. With his hair styled up and brushed to the side, he looked utterly breathtaking.

Then you saw the shocked expression on his face as his dark eyes met yours and you instantly dropped your head to hide your blushing cheeks. The way he stared at you, the desire visible in the way his lips curled up in a smirk, it made you squirm on the spot.

“You both look amazing,” he exclaimed brightly, holding his hand out.

Yuri smiled wide and placed a delicate hand in his. “As do you Mr Oh,” she replied, letting go of your arm and allowing Sehun escort her to the open car door.

You tried not to be bothered by the touch, but there was the tiny voice of jealousy in the back of your mind that wouldn’t leave you alone. You wished it could be you Sehun was leading first, your hand in his tender grip. However, it wasn’t meant to be. Instead you were left to quietly follow from behind … like the servant you were.

Once Yuri was comfortably in the back of the limousine, the rich boy turned his attention to you, holding his hand out. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he breathed in your ear.

It unnerved you to have him so close. You could smell his aftershave around you like a warm cloud that made you feel dizzy. His hot breath on your skin left shivers running down your spine and butterflies in your stomach, as you took his hand and lowered yourself down. Why did he have such an effect on you?

With the three of you in the back of the limousine, Yuri and Sehun sitting side by side while you sat awkwardly on the side seat, the car started its short drive to the hotel. While you stared silently at the sparkle of your dress and tried to calm your overflowing nerves, Yuri and Sehun chatted about who was going to be attending the event – apparently it was a lot of people that the pair of them knew. This didn’t seem to help your nerves. The closer you got, the more knotted your stomach became.

All of a sudden the car pulled up. Out of the window, you could see the rows of cameras all pointing in your direction on both sides of a plush red stripe of carpet. Feeling the panic rise up in your body, you called out before Sehun had the chance to open the door. “I’ll just meet you both inside,” you quickly blurted, pressing your hands into your stomach to quench the feeling of nausea.

“You don’t have to hide away,” Sehun replied with an earnest smile. “I invited you as my guest too. You’re not here on a professional level.” He shared a glance with Yuri who was already leaning over to take your hand.

She squeezed it tight and smiled. “We’re here to have fun remember?” she said with a silent plea in her voice. For you to come with her to this event meant a lot to her and you couldn’t let her down.

Swallowing past the nervous lump in your throat, you relented and nodded your head, scrunching your face up as Yuri leaned across and kissed the top of your head. Only then did Sehun open the door, stepping out first and then offering his hand back inside. With a cheesy grin at you, Yuri placed her hand in his and let him help her out of the limousine gracefully.

You could hear the calls for Sehun and Yuri from the reporters, loud and aggressive yelling for a second of their attention. Savouring the last moment of peace before you threw yourself to the sharks, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath to quell your nervousness. Something like this would probably never happen to you again. Despite how nervous you felt, you told yourself you should at least try to enjoy the evening.

Even Cinderella had fun until the clock struck midnight.

Ducking his head back into the limousine, Sehun flashed his charismatic smile and held his hand out for you. “Ready?” he asked encouragingly.

“No,” you squeaked, making him chuckle. Hearing his laughter oddly relaxed you a little. Shuffling up the seats, you fixed your dress so you hopefully wouldn’t trip on the long skirt and then gripped Sehun’s hand tight.

He guided you out onto your feet, keeping a tentative hand on the small of your back. Once you were safely out of the car, Sehun linked arms with Yuri on one side and you on the other and escorted you both past the blinding cameras and loud reporters without stopping, until you all were through the glass doors and into the grand foyer.

“See that wasn’t so bad,” Yuri teased, unlinking her arm from Sehun’s.

You did the same, although quite reluctantly. It felt sort of good to have him by your side. “I wouldn’t know,” you retorted, blinking hard to try and get rid of the spots in your vision from the camera flashes. “I can’t actually see properly yet!”

Letting out a loud sigh of relief, you internally congratulated yourself on managing to get past the reporters without falling flat on your face. However, now you were faced with a whole new challenge – a hotel full of the rich and famous. And then there was you, the little lamb dressed up like a lion in the heart of their den.

What could go wrong?

-x-

During the reception, you and Yuri stayed close to one another while Sehun paraded the two of you around the foyer of the new hotel. It was a beautiful building, as far as you had seen so far, the foyer decorated with intricate stonework with a huge water feature in the middle of the floor. You met so many people too, some of which Yuri knew. However, all of them seemed very interested in you, the men wanting to know who you were and where you came from while the majority of women just looked at you with scorned faces. Immediately you got the feeling that a lot of the women had come to try their chances with Sehun.

Once the foyer was filled with guests, Sehun left to get ready for the ribbon cutting ceremony. Keen to not draw any attention to yourselves, Yuri and you stayed at the back of the crowd sipping on your flutes of champagne. You probably drank more of the bubbles than the other guests but as the alcohol hit your system, you felt yourself loosen up a bit and start to enjoy yourself.

On the stage, you saw Sehun, his brother Chanyeol and an older man you assumed was their father because he looked like an older version on Chanyeol with tiny similarities to Sehun too. They cut the ribbon ceremoniously and each made a speech about the future and expansion of their family company before guests were filtered into the ballroom for dinner.

“Yuri, I didn’t realise you would be attending this evening,” Chanyeol exclaimed brightly, jumping to his feet as the pair of you approached your assigned seats. He bowed politely to her and then pulled out Yuri’s chair for her.

You could see the blush on Yuri’s cheeks as she took her seat. “It was sort of a last minute plan,” she confessed, looking up at Chanyeol with a big smile on her face.

Awkwardly pushed to the side, you looked down at the fancy place settings to find your own seat. All of a sudden, someone came up behind you, their breath hot on the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. “You’re sat next to me,” Sehun murmured softly for only you to hear, before appearing at your side and pulling out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, happy to be giving your feet a rest from the uncomfortable high heels. Sehun sat down between you and Yuri and passed you a small card with the menu for the evening, although you wouldn’t have guessed it by looking at the words. You frowned hard at the gibberish, not understanding a single word. How were you supposed to order anything?

Your confusion must have been plainly written on your face because Sehun leaned over, his head almost resting on your shoulder. Being that close, you could smell his delicious aftershave. “It’s all Italian food,” he explained quietly, pointing at the dishes down the menu and explaining each to you. He taught you how to pronounce the dishes you wished to order, however as soon as the waiter arrived to take your order, you froze and forgot everything Sehun had told you.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Sehun intercepted quickly, placing a gentle hand on your thigh and squeezing it reassuringly. Then he ordered for you so eloquently, in a way you never would have been able to.

Even once the waiter had left, he kept his hand on your leg while he talked to everyone on the table with you, like a constant reminder that he was there by your side. The rational part of your brain told you to push it away but guilty, you liked his reassurance. It felt good and calmed your nerves, better than any words he could have said. Reaching down casually, you placed your hand on top of his, curling your fingers around his own.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smirk at your sudden touch. You couldn’t help but smile too, dipping your head a little to hide behind your hair.

By the time dinner eventually arrived, you didn’t want to let go.

-x-

After dinner and a deliciously chocolate dessert, you were led to a different ballroom on the other side of the hotel, where a stage had been set up along with a long bar. Sehun regrettably left with his brother to talk business, leaving you and Yuri to your own devices. One look at her and you could tell she was just as overwhelmed by everything as you were. People were dancing to the band playing and chatting with each other like old friends. Almost as a reflex, you and Yuri glued yourselves together and made your way to the bar.

When in doubt, drink!

It seemed like the event was sponsored by a certain brand of champagne and a special list of cocktails had been created especially. Yuri thought it would be a good idea to try them all and pick a favourite. “Maybe Sehun might name it after us,” she teased, clinking the first cocktail against yours and taking a long sip.

After a few glasses, your cocktail tasting was interrupted by a tall and very handsome man. “May I have the honour of dancing with you Yuri?” Park Chanyeol asked softly in a low voice with his hands behind his back like a gentleman.

Yuri pursed her lips in thought, her gaze flickering worriedly in your direction. You could tell she didn’t want to leave you behind so you nodded to her in encouragement. “I wasn’t aware you had any moves,” she replied, leaving her cocktail on the bar and linking arms with Chanyeol.

“Oh I have plenty,” you heard him reply teasingly as the pair of them walked towards the dancefloor.

Alone, you found comfort in the champagne cocktails, drinking another three before your bladder was in desperate need of emptying. Now extremely unsteady in your heels, you slowly shuffled around the edge of the ballroom, sneaking out of the nearest door and finding the bathroom.

You stayed on the toilet a little longer than you needed to, suddenly feeling the effects of all that champagne flood your bloodstream and leave you dizzy and more than just a tad tipsy. Your whole body felt buzzed, every nerve ending alive with electricity. One moment you thought you were going to throw up and then suddenly you wanted to take a nap, flopping forward into your lap.

After minutes – or an hour, you really couldn’t tell – you managed to pull yourself together and leave the bathroom on two wobbly feet. As you walked back into the ballroom, you decided to find Yuri and tell her you were going to go home. Looking around the room, you spotted her on the other side talking to Chanyeol and a few other men of a similar age.

You were about to push yourself off the wall and go and talk to her when someone stepped in front of you, someone tall in a fitted navy tuxedo with a distinct aftershave that made you feel relaxed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he murmured as you looked up and met his warm caramel eyes filled with worry.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, although it didn’t come out exactly how you wanted it to. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you licked your lips and cleared your throat. “I was just going to tell Yuri I was going home,” you explained, hearing your words slur together.

Sehun’s face dropped, his smile falling a little. Reaching out, his hand wrapped around yours and intertwined your fingers together. “But we haven’t had a dance yet,” he whispered for only you to hear, pulling you off the wall and closer to his body.

You tried to pull away, the thought of dancing making you shudder. “Sehun, no,” you moaned softly, shaking your head. “I can’t dance, plus it’s a slow song. I’ll just embarrass you,” you tried to tell him, but he wasn’t listening, just smirking and pulling you onto the dancefloor in the middle of the ballroom.

“It’s really easy,” he murmured quietly, letting go of your hands and lifting them up onto his broad shoulder. Then he traced his gentle touch down your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake until his hands settled on your hips. “Just keep looking at me,” he whispered, dipping his head until you looked up at him.

Slowly the pair of you started to sway in time to the music, Sehun moving your hips for you so your feet would follow until you got the hang of it. You started to enjoy it too, staring up at his handsome face and being able to observe all of his flawless features. The lure of his aftershave pulled you closer so you were practically pressed up against him.

Sighing softly, you couldn’t help but break out into a timid smile. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that Mr Oh?” you noted softly, reaching up to push back a dark strand of hair that had fallen out of perfection across his forehead.

His lips flipped up in a charming smirk – the exact expression that had your stomach doing somersaults. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t just picked up your phone,” he retorted, his eyes plainly inspecting you from head to toe. “But then I wouldn’t have got to see you in this dress!” His hands dropped a bit lower than your hips to emphasise his point before he shifted them back into place.

You couldn’t help the burning of your cheeks completely exposing your growing feelings for Sehun. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t like him, despite the polar differences between you both. Maybe the champagne bubbles had gone to your head and diluted your doubt, but there was a definite chance you were beginning to fall for him. There you were dancing in a breath-taking ballroom in the arms of an even more breath-taking man.

Like a real life Cinderella moment.

[masterlist]