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apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago

Note

the “we’re fake dating to make someone jealous but actually end up together trope” reminds me of drrreeeaaaammmm😇😇😇

-🧚🏻‍♀️

YES YES 🧚 ANON I LOVE UR IDEAS YES.

I also included these: WELCOME 🦀 ANON and as always, 🍭 anon I'm in love w u.

[𝐁𝐎𝐘]𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 (𝟏𝟖+)

pairing: dream x reader (dre™ my beloved)

warnings: vulgar language, mentions of sex, basically that one scene from Easy A, me lowkey trying so hard not to get carried away

You took a sip of your drink; your mind racing with Clay’s words as you debated his plea. You hated the idea of pitting yourself against someone else for an envy factor and meddling in the love lives of your friends, but you knew you’d do anything for Clay. He could mention needing to kill a president and without a word, you’d be by his side. It had always been that way, so why were you so shaken by his request. Then again, you had brought it upon yourself.

“See that girl over there?” Clay asked, barely nodding toward the kitchen as he slumped down to your height so you could hear him over the pulsing music. The smell of the cologne your cousin bought him one Christmas in the hopes that he’d ask her to marry him wafted towards you. You had noticed how he had attempted to clean himself up when the two of you met at the bus stop before traveling to this shindig, but you had brushed it off, knowing it was probably for some girl’s attention.

You peered over his shoulder, seeing the kitchen packed with females. You shrugged slightly. “Yeah, which one?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes. “As if it’s not obvious,” he mumbled sarcastically after realizing what you were talking about. His hand moved to hold your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he angled your head towards one of the various women.

She looked up at the right moment, making eye contact with you and you pulled out of Clay’s grip, already knowing how idiotic the two of you looked staring at her as he blatantly was pointing her out to you. “Oh my god, she saw,” you whispered quickly and he drew in a sharp breath, the two of you freezing as if something were going to happen.

When she didn’t approach the pair of you, you went on like it hadn’t happened, Clay beginning to tell you about why he mentioned her. “We hooked up after calculus a few times,” he smugly boasted.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Why are you still in calculus? Aren’t you a jun-”

“That’s beside the point,” he added, crossing his arms. “She hasn’t texted me back lately.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, peering back over in her direction. It always shook Clay up when a girl didn’t vie for his attention. He was attractive and popular on campus, but there were always a few that would slip through his fingers. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

You wet your lips, exhaling as you thought. “Maybe it’s because you’re too available?” You spoke, thinking out loud and more to yourself than him. He tilted his head as if urging you to continue. You took a sip of your drink, also wondering what you’d meant. “Just start fooling around with another girl and she’ll come running,” you offered.

He nodded along as you spoke, leaning a hand against the wall behind you. “Wanna fool around with me?” He jested, making you snort.

“Oh come on now,” you broke, dropping your head back against the wall, nearly missing his thumb.

He sent you a cheeky expression. “No, you come on now. You suggested it!”

You lightly punched his chest as if to get him to hear you instead of just listen to you. “I didn’t mean me, idiot! Don’t you have like fifteen other people in your phone?”

His shoulders slumped. “Please! I’ve seen you charm the pants off Karl and Sapnap at the same time,” he begged. He straightened up as if he was about to reluctantly agree to something. “I’ll paint your kitchen like you’ve been asking,” he mumbled.

And that’s how you found yourself leaning against Clay’s side as the two of you talked to a group of his friends. His arm curled around your waist, fingers gliding beneath the hem of your shirt to settle against the skin of your hip. You willed yourself to think of something other than his fingers pressed against you, fighting every urge to blush at the contact.

The song switched to a stereotypical dance song and people began to move. You downed the rest of your drink to psych yourself up before eyeing the girl momentarily and standing on your toes to reach Clay’s ear. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder as you told him to dance with you, knowing she was watching the two of you with searing eyes.

You knew he was fighting to see her expression, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled him towards the mass of people by his belt loop. “This is going to be super cringey before the both of us, just pretend you like it,” you bit as you pressed your back to him.

His hands dropped to your waist, moving with you to the beat. “Maybe I will enjoy myself. Don’t be so bossy,” he chided, voice raspy and warm in your ear from talking over the music for most of the night. He was a loud guy, but he always seemed to lose his voice after a party.

You turned in his arms, his body close to yours. “Don’t get too excited,” you jested, pressing a hand to his abdomen as you kept up with him, letting him drop his head beside yours.

“Oh, bet. I’ll get so drunk and mistake you for someone else,” he mocked, his voice a welcome break as it penetrated through the heavy bass of the song.

You scoffed. “Like who? Your cousin?” You teased, making him bite back a laugh as he bit his lip. You felt a laser gaze digging into your back as his hands moved you pull your waist against him. Your hand moved to pull his face to the crook of your neck. You could see her at the new angle; glaring at you over her cup. You felt guilt twist in the pit of your stomach. You’d been at it for a few hours and you were ready to amp it up before she left without him.

“Dream, take me upstairs,” you mumbled into his ear. He pulled away from you, brows threatening to furrow at your words. “Trust me,” you gritted, slipping your hand into his and making it apparent you were looking for a room with him in tow. He was quiet as you lead the way. From where you were walking, you saw her move to inch towards the steps as if she was investigating what you were doing with him. You knew it was in bad taste to set anyone up for jealousy but Clay was your friend, and you really needed your kitchen painted.

You found an empty room, tugging him inside and locking the door. He looked at you with a red tinge to his cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment as if he’d been thinking about what the two of you would be doing in the room, or if it was just from the alcohol. “What now?” He asked.

You chuckled, grabbing his wrist. “Fuck me,” you stated, the words feeling weird with him on the receiving end. His eyes went wide and he awkwardly moved his hands as if he were going to touch you. You rolled your eyes, swatting away his hands before grabbing his wrist and pulling him up to stand on the bed with you after you kicked off your shoes.

You started jumping on the bed, but he just looked at you with a confused expression, making you gesture for him to copy you. He was always like that; you telling him to do something and without actually questioning, he’d go along with you.

You could hear talking outside the door and something clicked in your head. “Oh, that feels so good, Clay. Don’t stop,” you falsely moaned, glaring at him as he struggled not to laugh, the two of you jumping almost in sync as the mattress squeaked beneath your weight.

You motioned for him to add and he looked up to the ceiling, attempting to recover from everything that was happening. “You like that? Slut,” he matched your tone, making you roll your eyes and cover your mouth to hide your laugh at the degradation.

You moaned again, and he giggled quietly, moaning with you. The two of you had begun to loosen up, even timing your jumps so you could double jump and throw Clay off balance. If someone had told you a week prior that you’d be jumping on a nameless person’s bed with your best friend, pretending he was nailing you into tomorrow, you would have laughed. But it probably wouldn’t have surprised you.

The two of you slowed down, winded from the unnecessary exercise. You shrugged slightly, mimicking what you would sound like during an orgasm. It came out weak and Clay looked at you like you’d stabbed him in the chest. He mouthed, “Come on.” You rolled your eyes, wondering how you had found yourself in that position before moaning again, this time a bit too accurately.

You covered your mouth and Clay’s ears turned red as he laughed slightly. You’d been roommates with a friend of his in the past and it nearly dawned on you that he might have heard the sound from you before. You brushed the thought from your mind before it could completely sink in as you got off the bed. He plopped down on the edge of the mattress, catching his breath as you straightened your clothing, tugging your shoes back on. There was something hanging in the air between the two of you now, but you had quickly decided that you’d rather not address it.

After that night, you weren’t really sure how it had gone between Clay and the girl. You wanted to ask him about it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to after you noticed the two leaving together. You had done your job, maybe a bit too well.

In fact, the two of you had been avoiding each other since then. It wasn’t until a week later that you were finally in the same room with him at a birthday party for a mutual friend of yours. The two of you glanced at each other awkwardly before you stood beside him, nudging his arm with your own.

“So, how’d it go with that one girl?” You asked, glancing up at him, your eyes then settling on the group spread around the room talking amongst themselves.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, yeah I ended up just driving her home,” he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I just… I wasn’t in the mood anymore. I don’t know…”

You nodded at his statement, deciding that it was ridiculous for you to feel so weird around him for nothing. You knew it was all in your head and he wouldn’t be walking around on eggshells if you weren’t making him. This was Clay, after all. “All that work and for what?” You joked.

He sent you a smile, his shoulders relaxing. “I mean, come on. You had to have enjoyed that-”

You cut him off. “Oh yeah, grinding on you was literally the greatest time of my life,” you quipped sarcastically.

He grinned smugly. “I mean, it was the greatest time of my life to hear you moaning my name.”

You scoffed. “Hope you recorded it,” you mumbled, making him nod in agreement. You rolled your eyes playfully as everyone moved to gather around each other. Seats quickly filled up and Clay sent you a sly grin, patting his lap.

Just to prove a point, you took his offer, making him tense up as if he wasn’t expecting you to. He sat up a bit straighter to even the two of you out, making you shift on his lap. You moved again, setting your drink on one of the nearby tables and he groaned. You froze, hoping no one had noticed his hand press into your hip.

His lips were beside your ear; breath warm and inviting. “Stop moving,” he bit, voice barely above a whisper.

Your mouth curled into a smirk. “Why? Can’t control yourself?” You jeered, making his grip tighten on you.

“Don’t tease,” he nipped, making you smile wider. You moved again, this time pulling your knee to your chest and leaning back against him. With the new movement, you could feel him harden beneath you, and for some reason, you were into it. Your escapades in the bedroom had given you a series of oddly sexual dreams about Clay. Maybe this was your chance to relieve what tension had been built between the two of you.

His other arm moved to wrap around your knee, cementing you in place. “Cut it out,” he hissed, making your eyes settle on his. You could tell by the lust-blown look in his eyes that he was already thinking about you too.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You quizzed, your heart hammering in your chest as his eyes danced back and forth between yours, searching your face for a hint of joking.

You could feel his heart skip a beat. “Really?” He asked, waiting for you to redact your words. You nodded. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as your mom and the pool boy,” you joked, instantly lightening the mood as he rolled his eyes, leaning forward and digging his face into the crook of your neck and making you laugh. You got off his lap, moving towards the birthday boy and saying your goodbyes with the claim that you had an upset stomach so Clay was driving you home.

When the two of you finally got out of the apartment building, Clay turned to you. He spoke with a clear tone now, “This is real,” his words coming out as a question in and of itself. “You’re not fucking with me?”

You sighed, shaking your head before grabbing onto his jacket and pressing your lips against his, your body flush against him as his hands hesitantly wrapped around you. Your kiss quickly became hungry and passionate. You’d never kissed him before; usually opting to live vicariously through your friends. As your hands carded into his hair, his fingers fisted in your clothing, almost as if you would float away from him.

Clay broke away almost breathlessly, his lips moving to press against your neck. “I want you,” he groaned, making you moan in response. As he pulled you towards his car, you knew the two of you would finally be relieving some long-time festering tension.

#🦀 anon #🍭 anon #🧚🏻‍♀️ anon #dream x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fluff #dream imagine

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lifeinahole27 · 3 years ago

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It's Holiday Card Time!

This year's post is straight copy pasta from last year, so please excuse my laziness. It’s time for Holiday Cards! I have decided to once again offer to send cards to friends and strangers, alike!

Here’s how it works:

-Send me an ask with your name and mailing address, as long as you’re comfortable doing so.

-If you’re a fandom friend, feel free to request a fic snippet. These are usually a page long, bullet-point-fic. They can be something new (around a trope or prompt of your choosing) or they can be headcanons/sidestories from my fics. Is there a scene you always wanted in a fic of mine that I didn’t write? Now is the chance to ask for it! The more specific you ask for, the better. It helps with the writing process if I’m not baking everything from scratch.

-It’s entirely up to you to tell me what fic prompt you want. I will not be chasing these down as I have in years past. If you don’t tell me you want a fic bit in your card, you’re just getting a card.

-If you have requested a card in the past, please resubmit an address. If I still have it, it’s either a) lost in an old notebook or b) lost in my asks/messages. I do not keep a steady address book. I really should, but I don’t. Especially given the shit that's been my year, I haven't even found my cards yet so I do not think it possible to find addresses.

-If you have a special holiday you celebrate (i.e., you do not want a Christmas card - @lt-sarai gets a birthday card from me every year) then please let me know. I have generic winter cards, a surplus of Christmas, and I have no qualms going out to get specialty cards - but I’m aiming to only make one trip to get cards this year so I need to know asap if you want something special.

As always, I hope to send out cards no later than December 20, but I always try to get the international ones out first and fast so they arrive before New Year. But honestly, if you send me an ask up to NYE, I’ll still happily send a card. Oh yeah, and that’s the other thing: I don’t care where you live! I will send cards ANYWHERE in the world.

Feel free to share if you’d like. This is something I do for joy and happiness, for the smile it brings to people, and for the smile it brings to me. You do not have to be a mutual to get one. Hell, you don’t even have to be following me! I love when random people find this post and request cards, because I love being able to do this.

I thank you for still being around, friends. And while my life is a raging garbage bucket right now, I still find joy in this and want to be able to share it with you. winter

#christmas cards #holiday cards #card post 2021

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rayofsunas · 4 years ago

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haikyuu!! as dads (pt.1)

A/n: hello! starting off with a clean slate here yay! if some of the first few seem so short and the writing seems different, it’s because I wrote half of this like three days ago- anywways, requests are open btw!!

Summary: haikyuu characters as dads/domestic living.

Pairings: Semi Eita, Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Oikawa Toru, Kenma Kozume

Warnings: some timeskip spoilers, fluff, parenting, angst (kinda) swearing (maybe), crack, all characters are aged up

Word count: 1.8k

Part Two!

Semi Eita

- the serious sometimes scary looking dad, but other than that he’s a fluff ball

- he may look scary but he simply cannot punish them for anything

- especially after they bonded over music, legit cannot do nothing wrong

- on the days he’s not working or with his bandmates, you can often find him with his twin daughters, teaching them how to use different musical instruments

- okay, so your daughters are still pretty young, so they aren’t very good at using most instruments, but for Christmas you and Semi got them both a small set of drums, something easy

- it was very cute to come home from work to see your husband and daughters loudly practicing on the drums

- sure at first it gave you a blasting headache, but after a while you got used to it, and even jammed out with them when you had the time

- mainly just random sounds/beats coming from the two five year olds, but Semi doesn’t mind, he’s willing to teach them and he does proudly

- if one of his daughters or both wants too

- definitely writes songs for his daughters and you

- i can see him writing lullaby’s for them and working on them for hours making sure they were perfect

- lets just say they were perfectly beautiful

- because you went to high school together, the nickname “semi semi” stuck with you (thanks chicken tendo)

- but your girls will also cutely call him “semi semi”

- you often bring them to concerts despite semi saying it’s probably too loud for them

- he’ll let you sit safely with them back stage uwu

- after he runs back to you three and is bombarded with hugs, high-fives and kithes

- YOU’RE ALL SO PROUD OF HIM

Bokuto Koutarou

- bokuto is a hyper dad, which we all saw coming. there is no taking the child out of bo

- i feel like he’d want tons of kids, probably even uses his children as an excuse to act the way he does

- i can see him with a few kids, 3 to be exact (2 boys and 1 girl)

- he likes to be really involved with his children, and gets very sad/emo when he doesn’t see them for short/long periods of time

- for example, the Black Jackals is a whole different game field than high school volleyball and it’s much more time consuming and has him away a lot

- when he does come home and has time off, let’s just say he clings to his children like a puppy

- even after a while THEY get sick of him and wanna ditch him, cue emo bo :(

- if his children gang up on him (which they do) cue emo Bo again :(

- he babies them all, can’t ever say no

- tends to go back on his word lmao

- if your oldest son begs and begs for season tickets to his favorite sports team? Bo KNOWS they can be expensive, and he was even scolded by you, but two hours after saying no, he runs back to his son and gives him the money

- if your daughter wants to get her nails done with a group of friends, he knows she picks out the most expensive polishes, etc, BUT HE DOES NOT CARE, he will gladly give her the money and even go with her to get his nails done

- yes, you heard me

- of course he’ll being chaperone for this girls day, he promises to pretend that he doesn’t know them and keep his distance (sit very far away lol), but after a little while its just hard to contain and he’s screaming to everyone in the salon that his daughter is sitting on the other side of the room eye-

- your youngest son wants an expensive sports car? done

- he just wants to make his family happy, pleaseee

Kuroo Tetsurou

- poor Kuroo, he has 2 daughters and you, so he’s surrounded by girls lol

- he actually doesn’t mind it tbh

- between you and his two daughters, he wouldn’t have it any other way

- just gives him an excuse to be overly protective

- anywhere in public, expect either kuroo holding your hand

- or holding his daughters close to him (piggy back rides, yes)

- or, he stands protectively behind you and your daughters while you talk to someone, sending them threatening glares behind your backs

- he was shy as a child, so it wasn’t surprising when one of his daughters, the youngest, was very very shy

- he doesn’t mind once again, just gives him an excuse to be protective

- although he’s busy, he always makes time for his girls ALWAYS

- definitely a bragger

- if his family is brought into a convo, he pridefully will express how cute and smart his daughters are, may or may not openly declare his daughters are the cutest amongst his co-workers children

- he’s mad intuitive and aware/observant

- kuroo always knows when one or both of his daughters are about to start crying/throw a fit

- cue dad kuroo prepared to crack funny chemistry and or science jokes

- his shy daughter finds him very funny, doubles over every time he cracks a joke and calls him a “silly rooster”

- even when she's older she still laughs and even copies his jokes

- but his other daughter just cringes, every time sigh

- when she was younger she used to fake the laughs, but when he started saying the jokes in public she just stopped reacting, hoping he would stop-

- he didn’t...

- i like to imagine kuroo and kenma staying friends even after high school, and since kenma has hella video games and a whole arcade in his house, he’ll often bring his daughters over to his house

- his eldest daughter loves it at uncle kenma’s house

- cue jealous rooster dad

Oikawa Toru

- okay so oikawa is ALWAYS busy

- isn’t home much, except during off seasons or if he messes up his knee again (yes, it’ll happen)

- in the event that he’s home due to a knee injury, he’ll wanna be catered too lmaooo

- he doesn’t expect his little girl to cater to him and really only teases you about it

- but his daughter will get him whatever he needs while he’s propped up on the couch

- she admires him so much

- his daughter kinda has a smart mouth-

- definitely got that from him, having picked up on it from a young age, while he was home

- when he was home once propped up with a messed up knee, she went “here dadkawa” as she handed him an ice pack

- he laughs at the nickname, asking you about where it came from later

“she was on call with hajime’s daughter yesterday... hajime asked how ‘poopykawa’ was doing”

- he just rolls his eyes, “at least he cleaned it up for her sake” you explained

- will not lose the “kawa” part, so it’s dadkawa lol

- when he’s away, she’s always asking for dadkawa

- when he’s here they're inseparable

- morning breakfast now will be her sitting in his lap instead of yours

- she asks to watch cartoons with him instead of you :(

- bath time consists of her arguing with you as you try to wash her hair, while oikawa sits on the closed toilet seat laughing to himself

- “mommy i want dadkawa to wash my hair!”

- “you always whine that he gets soap in your eyes”

- “I don’t care!”

- when you bring your daughter to games, she’ll be cheering him on proudly, “mommy, look at dadkawa!” “GO DADKAWA!!!!”

- since he plays for the professional Argentine team, i figure you all live in Argentina now, traveling from Argentina and Japan was tiring, so you moved to be closer

- when the news approaches him after or before games, he makes sure to show his daughter off and the whole time it’s his daughter stealing the show

- she might be shy at first, but as long as dadkawa is holding her, she’s fine

- he’ll teach her Spanish, defiantly sings happy birthday to her in Spanish because it’s special

- he calls her his princesa (princess in spanish)

Kenma Kozume

- if his child didn’t enjoy video games like him or any of his hobbies like volleyball, I feel like Kenma would have a hard time with them

- he loves his son yes, but he’d have a hard time interacting with him, especially if he’s not into video games or volleyball

- if he is though, you can often find the two in kenma’s home office, playing games

- when your son was a infant, you would always come home from being out/work to find your son sitting in his pj’s on kenma’s lap watching his dad play video games

- “it’s late, ken. i see he’s already in his pj’s- did you already have dinner?” “yes”

- “without me?” you asked, lifting up your son to give his cheeks kisses. “there’s apple pie in the fridge.”

- eye-

- yes he fed your son that, yes he needs a little guidance, yes he needs to be told apple pie is NOT dinner

- on another occasion of coming home, you found your boys in the same spot, once again playing video games, your sons eyes drifting between the game and his father every time he muttered under his breath

- “the screen is bad for your eyes kenma, and he’s just a baby! he’ll get bad eyes too!”

- kenma’s short answer is, “he won’t”

- when your son got older, and he started getting into video games, it got harder for you to tear his eyes away from the screen

- he’s been around video games his whole life, so of course it’d be hard, you just didn’t think he’d grow attached

- kenma leaves most of the strict parenting to you, because he LEGIT doesn’t NOT know what to say

- he’s lowkey afraid he’ll push his son away if he says the wrong thing, but he’s also worried that if he doesn't say anything, they’ll have no real relationship, so he struggles

- he tries his hardest to bond with him over video games and volleyball though

- as said by your son, kenma’s cooking can’t compare to yours, BUT he does know how to make a yummy apple pie

- his son will help kenma with said apple pie, when he’s younger he was often the taste tester and made a mess every time

- kenma gets nervous in huge crowds and really around anyone he doesn’t know, so if his son is a social butterfly he’ll try to get kenma used to people other than himself and you

- somehow, during the rare moments his son has problems (friends, school etc), kenma will be the one to speak up privately

- he’ll definitely tell his son to surround himself with a good friend/good friends, he also makes sure to let him know the importance of quality over quantity

- he has a brotherly relationship with kuroo, and if not for kuroo he’d be alone, he wants the same thing for his son

10.20.20, rayofsunas

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #oikawa toru #oikawa toru x reader #kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutaro #bokuto koutarou x reader #rayofsunas

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jisungsmochi · 4 years ago

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rest your love - lee haechan

don’t worry!! i didn’t forget about this series hehe,, i personally really liked this one!! i’m probably going to try and write more often!

anyways pls enjoy,, i’ll link my masterlist for the other parts of this series (nct dream as ‘the vamps’ songs)

word count: 2.2k

summary: “when the world gets loud, baby you can rest your love on me”

haechan never understood why people liked to be chased. he thought that all he needed to do was ask someone out and boom, a beautiful relationship. until he befriends you, and learns that sometimes people just need a shoulder to lean on, before they can rest their love on someone.

I see you move, so I do understand

Why you get attention?

I hear you talk, but I don't comprehend

Why I get no mention?

“it’s physically impossible to dislike me, i’m just a catch” haechan brags while walking to his first college class, his friends, renjun and jaemin trailing behind him.

“just because everyone liked you in high school, doesn’t mean people will in college. it’s a completely different ball game” renjun rolled his eyes at how overly optimistic and delusional his friend was being.

“ah let him live, he’ll find out soon enough” jaemin chuckles softly as he and renjun wave to haechan, scurrying off to their own lectures.

haechan shrugs, not taking in any of his friends words. he stumbled into the classroom, scanning for an empty seat. he quickly made his way to a spare desk, pulling out all his materials. just as the tutor walked into the room, his eyes met those of, who he believed, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. you flaunted your way to the last empty seat, which happened to be next to the awfully cheery boy, smiling at you.

you weren’t having the best day, immediately regretting your choice of a desk mate. as soon as you sat down, haechan was a blabbering mess. he shot questions left and right at you, despite the fact you barely responded to any of them. you just assumed he wanted to make friends fast, or he was just a chatterbox. “so how are you doing on this fine day?” he mutters to you, but received a stern glare in response. you tilted your head to the front of the room, zoning in on your tutor. haechan would lie if he said he didn’t feel slightly deflated. usually he had no problem making conversation with strangers. but you were so cold, so uninterested, it really hurt his ego. maybe renjun was right, not everyone would like him. but haechan was an unbelievably stubborn optimist. he was going to befriend you, no matter how long it took.

And you know, you know where to find me

Yeah, you know where to go when you're looking for love

And you know, you know where I'm hiding

Yeah, you know

it had been over three weeks since haechan first met you and you still wouldn’t budge. you only spoke to him during group tasks, other than that you continued to ignore his advances. haechan got the message loud and clear that you weren’t going to pay him attention. it took a toll on his own self confidence, until renjun gave him a stern talking to,

“god don’t let her get to your head, dude!! she’s awful for not wanting to be friends with you”

haechan pouted, “but she’s so pretty, i can’t just ignore her”

at that moment, he received a notification on his phone.

y/n: is this haechan? i think you took my notes by accident

his eyes widened, how did you even get his facebook account?

he scrambled around his room, looking into his backpack and surely enough, there were your notes, prettily written up.

haechan: hello! i do have your notes, i can meet you somewhere to hand it back? maybe the cafe? we can get something to eat!

renjun was now peering over haechan’s shoulder, too invested in this interaction.

y/n: no it’s fine, just give it to me next class, thanks

after reading your message, renjun bursted out laughing.

“dude that’s brutal, she’s something else” haechan fiddled with his phone, glaring at the other boy. he clicked on your profile, sending you a friend request as he scrolled through your posts. he saw that your friends had wished you a happy birthday, almost a year ago. he then realised it was in a few days...

“i have the perfect plan to get her to notice me” haechan smirks, renjun rolling his eyes,

“you’re ridiculous”

it was a friday afternoon, when haechan stumbled into class. you looked over at him, expecting some type of greeting, but you didn’t hear a peep from the boy.

strange, you thought to yourself.

as you were preparing for the lesson, haechan pulled something out of his bag. you looked over, noticing a small pink box now placed on your side of the table. you raised your eyebrow at him, in which he whispered,

“happy birthday, y/n”

your face froze. how did he know it was your birthday?

you looked back at the small box, slowly moving your hands to open it. to your surprise, there was a red velvet cupcake, decorated with a ton of rainbow sprinkles. there was a tiny picket that said:

“happy birthday, cutie!”

you couldn’t hide your smile, which only made haechan swoon even more. you weren’t the type to make a big deal out of your birthday, but this gesture from haechan truly made your day. you bit your lip softly, eyes meeting his.

“t-thankyou, haechan. i really appreciate this” you smiled at him softly, not caring that you were now on speaking terms with him.

“anything for you, y/n” he cheerfully responded, turning his attention to the front of the room.

maybe lee haechan was worth letting in...

the days following, haechan would spam you with random texts throughout the day. initially you would have been annoyed, but after his generous birthday gift, you started to enjoy his company. although you wouldn’t say it to his face, you silently appreciated him.

“how is my beautiful, y/n doing?” he smirked as he walked with you after class. he’d always compliment you, each time making you gush inside.

“i’m alright, have a ton of homework to do though” you sigh, thinking back to the stack of work you had on your desk.

“oh poor thing! do you want to copy my work? i have it here right now i ca-“

“no, haechan, it’s okay. if i need help, i’ll just...call you or something” you paused, looking over at the boy whose eyes just lit up like a christmas tree.

“of course you can call me! call me anytime you want!” he exclaimed. you shake your head softly at him as you both continued walking.

once haechan met up with renjun and jaemin again, he couldn’t stop gushing about you.

“...and then she said i could call her! well she said she’d call me, but same thing” he explained your interaction to his two friends as they were eating at a local diner.

“so romantic” renjun sarcastically comments, causing jaemin to elbow him slightly.

“i think it’s a good step! i mean atleast she’s talking to you now” jaemin chimed in, feeding into his friend’s cheerful nature.

“yeah! i have a lot of hope for us” haechan smiles to himself, in which jaemin and renjun looked over at eachother before rolling their eyes.

you did end up calling haechan that night, as you were stuck on the very last question of the homework.

“y/n, it’s hard to explain, let me just send you my answer” haechan insisted,

“no, i feel guilty” you sigh, placing down your pen.

“it’s really okay, i want to help you” you bit your lip, eventually giving in.

“okay fine, but i’ll owe you something in return” you agree, hoping whatever he wanted wouldn’t be too bad.

“hmmm how about going to the movies with me this weekend? i know you wanted to see the new zombie one that just came out” he suggested. although you were shocked he was practically asking you on a date, were more shocked he remembered you talking about this movie.

“do you really think that is proportionate to what you’re doing for me?” you roll your eyes playfully, finding his advances quite endearing.

“yep!! take it or leave it” you hesitated for a moment, what’s the worst that could happen?

“okay fine, you have yourself a deal” you replied. haechan quickly put himself on mute (or so he thought), letting out a loud ‘YES!’, before returning to the call. you had heard everything, softly chuckling to yourself.

he was pretty cute.

That when the stars go out, you can rest your love on me

And when the world gets loud, baby, you can rest your love on me

“that ending was terrible” you pouted as you left the cinema with haechan.

“it wasn’t so bad, it could have been worse” he shrugged, leading you to the next location.

“hm i guess so, by the way, where are we going anyway?” you questioned, walking alongside him, observing your surroundings.

“this cool burger place i found online, here i’ll show you some photos” he pulled out his phone, swiping through the photos. you nodded along, agreeing to let him lead the way.

“y/n? is that you?” you heard a deep voice call, you head shot up, so did haechan’s.

“who’s that?” your mouth went dry. your body froze up. why was he here? why did he have to call out to you?

“oh my god it is you! long time no see” the mysterious boy approached the pair of you, completely disregarding haechan’s existence. he noticed how uncomfortable you were, eyes flickering between the boy and you. he placed his arm loosely around your back, the other boy’s eyes following in suit.

“oh i see, you’re dating someone. dang, i guess i missed my shot. he doesn’t seem like your type” the boy scoffed, arms folded as he stared you both down.

“w-we have to go” you finally bring yourself to mutter, pulling haechan along with you.

“y/n who was that?” haechan kept repeating, which only made you want to cry.

“he’s my ex, okay? just take me home” you sniffled, haechan immediately became concerned. he didn’t ask any further questions, driving you straight back to your place.

as he reached your house, he looked over at you, tears brimming your eyes.

“i-i’m sorry that our day was cut short. i was really enjoying myself. my ex and i ended on pretty bad terms and i would just like some time alone right now, i hope you understand” you sniffled, which made haechan’s heart ache.

“you don’t have to apologise. you know where to find me if you need me. i’ll be waiting for you to open up to me one day, y/n. however long it takes” he assures you, leaving you with a warm feeling in your stomach. you just nodded back at him, making your way into your house.

haechan sat in his car for a while, wishing he could take away all your pain.

you invited haechan to meet you at the local park. with no further questions, he rushed out of his room, eager to see you again. you waited patiently on the small bench, swinging your legs back and forth. you heard heavy footsteps approach, your eyes meeting those of the boy who radiated happiness.

“are you alright?” haechan starts as he takes a seat next to you, leaving a small gap between you both.

“y-yeah, i’m ready to tell you everything” you began,

“he and i ‘dated’ two years ago. i say ‘dated’ because well, i thought we were, but turns out he was just another player and i was just another pawn in his little game. it was my first relationship too, messed me up pretty bad. that’s why i tend to keep to myself, not really letting others in too much. he made me feel like every guy who gave me attention just wanted me for their own selfish needs” you sigh, eyes avoiding haechan’s. he wanted to hold your hand, but opted not to.

“he’s an asshole, you didn’t deserve that. i-i could treat you so much better i promise-“

“haechan, c-can we just slow things down?” you finally made eye contact with him, his face contorting into a confused expression.

“i know you like me, and i would be lying if i said i didn’t have a slight interest in you too. but i don’t think i’m ready for a relationship yet” you admit, worried for his reaction. but to your surprise, he didn’t feel sad or dejected at all. instead he smiled widely at you, leaning in closer.

“i’ll go as slow as you want. you can rest your love on me, whenever you need. i’m just glad to hear you like me too” he batted his eyelids, making you softly chuckle.

“thankyou” you whispered to him, moving closer so that your shoulders touched. the rest of the day was filled with random activities from the arcade, to a bike ride along the park’s trail and finally dinner. haechan came to realise that being with somebody wasn’t black and white. there was a grey area that lied in between. he didn’t care how long he needed to wait, all he knew was that he finally got you to like him. and that was enough to make him the happiest man alive.

#lee haechan #haechan fic #nct dream imagines #nct dream fic #nct imagine #haechan imagine #lee donghyuck #nct haechan imagine #nct writing #nct fics #nct college au #nct au #jisungsmochiimagines #jisungsmochi masterlist

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pinknerdpanda · 4 years ago

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The Diner

Word Count: 3,623 (decidedly NOT a drabble...it got out of control and I won’t apologize.) Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Angst, Theft, Fluff Beta’d By: @princessmisery666 - thank you my love

A/N: This was requested (kind of?) by my amazing and wonderful Name Twin @amanda-teaches. I hope you like this babe! (And I promise I’m working on the other still) I know these are called “Merry Manda’s Christmas Drabbles” and literally NONE of them are Drabbles...but I’m lazy and haven’t changed it in the 4 years I’ve been doing these. So...Sorry? (I’m not, actually. I’m not even sorry a little bit.)

The bitter chill of winter air cut through the leather of Bucky’s jacket as he stepped out of the car. He’d briefly considered taking his bike for the evening but had thought better of it. Though now, he was grateful he’d spared himself that torture. Shivering, he wondered if getting out on this frigid night was even worth it at all.

“Fuckin’ hate the cold,” he muttered, the words crystallizing in the air as he shoved the keys into his pocket and began making his way to the door.

After Steve went back in time to return the stones - and himself - to their proper place, Bucky felt lost. He’d known Steve’s intentions - even supported them. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.

He and Sam had gotten along better than Bucky would have guessed at the jump. They’d actually grown code enough, Bucky might even go as far as to call Sam a friend. Sure, they still had their moments of friction, but overall they worked well together. Sam was a damn hard worker and made him laugh, despite the obvious pain Bucky saw in his eyes. He missed Steve too. Whether they admitted it or not to themselves - certainly not out loud - they needed each other.

But sometimes Bucky just needed some time to himself.

That was how he’d wound up here the first time six months ago. It had been Steve’s birthday and even though Sam had invited him along to go see his old friend, he’d declined. He hadn’t been ready for the reminder of what kind of life he’d missed out on. So instead, he’d chosen to go for a drive with no real destination in mind. Not long into the trip however, he’d gotten hungry and stopped at the first place he saw.

The diner was small; cramped and slightly dingy, with scuffed linoleum floors and cracked booth seats. The menus felt sticky and none of the dishes matched, but the coffee was perfect. Hot, dark and slightly burnt; just how he liked it.

If anyone had recognized him that first day, they didn’t say anything. He was used to his fair share of open stares and the odd murmuring of worried voices wherever he went. But not here. Here, he was just Bucky - cup of coffee, no cream.

Bucky fell in love with the place immediately and it soon became his little home away from home. A place of refuge he could escape to when things got too heavy or his thoughts got too loud. Or, like tonight, when he just really, really wanted some of that amazingly shitty diner coffee.

The cold air that enveloped Bucky sloughed off as the diner door shut behind him, quickly replaced by the warm scent of coffee and whatever Mel was frying in the kitchen. He’d been there less than a second and he could already feel himself begin to relax.

A quick scan of the space showed no signs of anything out of the ordinary. Well - not really. A few weeks back, someone had decorated the counter top with a small, fiber-optic Christmas tree and a Santa figure that looked nearly as old as the place itself. Meager as it may be, it made the place feel festive.

The old jukebox in the corner - usually churning out songs by Chuck Berry, Elvis and The Temptations - hummed holiday tunes and voices that made him remember Christmases long since past. Before the war, before HYDRA, before the snap...when he was just a charming blue eyed kid from Brooklyn, looking out for his sisters and his annoyingly stubborn best friend. Bing Crosby's soothing timbre always brought back fond memories of his ma's cooking and the squeals of delight from the girls when they woke Christmas morning.

His moment of reverie was broken, however, by the sound of another familiar voice.

“Hey Bucky. Merry Christmas!” Y/n smiled and Bucky briefly thought of the prospect of making new Christmas memories to settle alongside those from so long ago.

Y/n followed him with a steaming pot of coffee as he took his seat at his usual booth. She filled the cup to the very brim before leaning against the back of the seat opposite of him.

“Merry Christmas, y/n.” Bucky wrapped both hands around the chipped porcelain mug. “I figured you’d have the night off, bein’ the holidays and all.”

In all the months he’d been coming here, he’d only ever seen her face bright and full of joy. She was sweet and kind and always made a point to have a chat with him about anything and nothing when she had a moment to spare. If he was being honest, part of the pull he felt toward this place was because there was a good chance he’d get to bask in her glow, if only for an hour or two.

But now, the smile on her face drew tight and the light in her eyes dimmed. In an instant, Bucky was filled with a pang of regret. Before he could find the words to apologize, her features melted back into place. He wondered if the cheeriness she tended to exude was simply a mask that he’d failed to recognize.

“Girl’s gotta make a buck somehow, right? Just the coffee tonight?”

Bucky paused, the cup halfway to his lips as he thought about it.

“Actually, I think I’m craving pie.”

Y/n nodded approvingly. “Well lucky for you, we have lots to choose from. Pick your poison.”

Savoring the delicious burn of the first sip of liquid gold, Bucky smacked his lips and tipped his head to one side. “How about you surprise me? Bring two slices of your favorite?”

“Coming right up!”

Bucky watched as y/n made her way behind the counter, setting the pot back on the warmer and moving to the fridge where they kept their pies. Propping a fist on one hip, y/n pursed her lips as she surveyed the options before her.

Bing's voice filled the comfortable silence as he crooned "White Christmas".

“Heya, Buck!” Mel’s voice drew his attention and he turned to find the greying head of the diner’s owner peeking out of the kitchen window. "Merry Christmas!"

“Merry Christmas yourself, Mel. Surprised you’re even open tonight.”

“Everybody’s gotta eat, even on Christmas Eve.” Mel grinned. “Besides, who else is gonna let your ugly mug drink all their coffee for a buck and a half?”

Bucky scoffed and shook his head. “You oughta be grateful I even come in and pay for this sludge, Mel. I could just stay home and drink my own damn coffee.”

“And yet here you are,” Mel quipped back, his gaze flicking to y/n as she approached Bucky’s table with two slices of pie. Mel winked at Bucky before disappearing into the kitchen.

Bucky’s face flushed at the not so subtle implication. And yet, here I am, Bucky thought as y/n set the plate in front of him.

“Chocolate cream pie, huh?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow at her. “I woulda pegged you for a cherry kinda gal.”

“Guess you woulda been wrong then, Sarge.” Y/n shrugged, a smug smile on her lips. “Enjoy!”

Y/n turned to head back to the counter, but Bucky caught her wrist gently. As she turned around, a spark of something between fear and confusion flashed across her face.

“Now where are you going?” Bucky let go of her wrist and motioned at the seat across from him as he continued. “Thought we were gonna have some pie?”

Confusion won over as she narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re gonna have some pie. I gotta get back to work.”

Bucky gestured around the nearly empty diner, his eyes wide with feigned innocence. Only one other table was occupied - a young couple, too giggly and twitterpated to notice anything other than each other. “I dunno. Looks to me like there’s not much work to be done at the moment. And besides, you really think I could eat all this by myself?”

Y/n planted her fist on her hip again and rolled her eyes. “Something tells me you definitely could.”

Gasping in mock offense, Bucky pressed his hand to his heart. “Even the notion! And on Christmas Eve, no less…”

Scoffing, y/n held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. Let me go get a cup of coffee and I’ll join you. But only because it’s Christmas.” Y/n shook her head warily as she walked back behind the counter.

He didn't even try to fight the pleased smile from his lips as he tapped the side of the mug with a vibranium finger. “Maybe just bring the pot?” Bucky called before draining the last of his cup.

A dull thunk against the warped tabletop nearly startled him and he looked up to find y/n already settled across from him, the coffee pot between them.

“Already ahead of you, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned and nudged a napkin wrapped fork in her direction as y/n poured a cup of coffee for herself and refilled his.

“So…” he began, unfurling his fork and immediately scooping up a large bite of pie and jamming it into his mouth.

Y/n’s eyebrow quirked and she paused, fork poised midair as she responded - “So?” - before copying his action, albeit with a slightly smaller bite.

“That’s some damn fine pie.” Bucky licked his lips and hummed in delight as he took another bite. “So, what’s the story?”

Y/n set her fork down and wiped her napkin over her mouth. Bracing her elbows on the table and wrapping her hands around her coffee, she tipped her head to one side.

“What’s what story?”

Bucky at least had the manners to swallow before taking a drink and leveling a measured gaze at her.

“Earlier, your face dropped when I mentioned you working tonight. What’s that about?”

Perhaps at some point in Bucky’s long, long life he’d have danced around the question. But lately he found himself growing more and more blunt. Why not just cut right to the chase without all the benign pleasantries?

Y/n blinked and cleared her throat. “I...uh...I don’t know what you mean.” She smiled at him, though her lips seemed forcibly stretched around her teeth.

Leaning forward, Bucky shook a gunmetal grey finger at her. “Nope. Not gonna cut it. Something’s bothering you, and I wanna help. If you’ll let me.” He sat back, running a hand through his recently shortened locks. “God knows you’ve listened to enough of my bullshit to last a lifetime.”

Tentative fingers wrapped around her fork as she began swirling the tines through the whipped cream of her mostly-uneaten pie. Bucky watched as she distracted herself with the sugary concoction.

“It’s,” she cleared her throat, gaze still trailing the swirls made with her fork. “It’s my brother. He got himself in trouble with some pretty brutal bookies. He came around last week asking for cash; I guess he’s in pretty deep. I gave him the little bit of savings I had, but I guess it wasn’t enough.”

Bucky’s body went rigid and he felt the anger building in his veins. He was thankful her gaze was still downcast, because he imagined the look in his eyes was pretty dark.

Y/n swallowed, setting her fork down with a soft ‘clink’ against the plate. “I came home from work a few days ago and he’d come in and stolen anything he thought he could get some money out of. I dunno; guess he pawned it or something.”

Small whirs and barely audible clicks of metal on metal filled the silence between them as Bucky’s fist clenched nearly as tight as his jaw. He knew she probably didn’t hear it, but to his heightened senses, it sounded like a blaring siren. Schooling his features and relaxing as best he could, he took an extra moment to level the tone of his voice.

“Your brother robbed you to pay off some bookies?”

Y/n eyes shot up, meeting his and widening suddenly as realization struck her. “Shit, I didn’t...please don’t…” She sucked in a shaky breath.

Bucky placed a hand over hers, surprising himself for a second before shaking his head. “Hey, hey. It’s ok.”

Hanging her head, she sighed. “Sometimes I forget who you are. You’re just Bucky, to me. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to put you in any kind of awkward situation being an Avenger and all…”

Her rambling died as Bucky’s hand tightened around hers reassuringly.

“I think knowing I’m ‘just Bucky’ here is one of my favorite things about coming here,” he offered her a lopsided grin as she met his gaze through watery lashes. “I’m just worried about you. You didn’t do anything wrong, darlin’.”

Releasing his hand, she sunk back into the faded pleather booth and wrapped her cardigan around herself.

“I know. I’m fine. Really.” She picked at an invisible thread on her sleeve. “I mean I can do without a TV or a computer, but he took all the presents I bought for the kids down at the rec center. I’d been saving all year to be able to do something nice for them.”

Bucky’s face flushed with renewed anger. How in the hell did someone so kind and generous and wonderful as y/n wind up with such an asshole for a brother?

“Excuse me, miss?”

Y/n looked as caught off guard as Bucky felt when the young couple from the other table called for her. They seemed hesitant to even disrupt the obviously tense situation.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, but we’re gonna miss our train if we don’t leave soon.”

“Oh no, no, no. You’re no bother.” Y/n sniffed and pasted on a smile as she slid out of the booth and met them at the counter. “I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner.”

Their conversation faded into the background as Bucky’s head buzzed with all the ways he wanted to make y/n’s brother pay for hurting her so badly. A voice in the back of his head - one that sounded entirely too much like Steve’s star-spangled-ass for his liking - told him to calm down. It was obvious y/n loved her brother, and anything Bucky’s scrambled mind could come up with to deal with him would definitely end up hurting her more.

So, rather than plotting revenge, Bucky pulled out his phone instead. He began clicking away furiously and got so lost in his mission, he missed the sound of y/n’s footsteps as she neared. The feeling of a warm hand against his shoulder made him jump, the device thumping to the table, narrowly missing his now-cooled cup of coffee.

“At ease, Sarge. It’s just me.” Y/n chuckled and patted his shoulder. “I didn’t think it was even possible to scare you.”

Bucky’s face twisted in smug defiance. “It’s not. I was just distracted, that’s all.” He snorted in derision.

“Uh-huh.” Y/n’s lips pursed, clearly trying to fight a smile. Bucky wished she wouldn’t; he’d give just about anything to see her face light up again. “Well, I’ve gotta go clear their table and start getting things shut down for the night. I just wanted to thank you for listening to me and for always being so...well...you.”

The sound of Bucky’s heartbeat roared in his ears as she leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against his cheek.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

----

A loud, almost violent-sounding banging on the front door woke Bucky up with a jerk. He scowled, eyes squinted against the faint golden rays of morning sun peeking through his curtains. The clock on his nightstand seemed to mock him with bright, bold, red numbers declaring the time to be 6:48 am.

The banging started again, somehow more violently. Muttering curses under his breath - mostly aimed at Sam for deciding to spend the holiday with his family down south, thereby leaving him to deal with whoever was currently trying to break down the front door - Bucky stumbled out of bed.

Another rapid series of knocks came to an abrupt stop as Bucky swung the door open. The venomous glare melted from his face as soon as his eyes met y/n’s.

“Y/n? What are you…”

His confused mumbling was cut off as y/n pushed inside and began pacing the length of the living room. She looked upset; angry even. Which Bucky could understand, at some level, as he, too, was none too pleased with being conscious at this god-forsaken hour. He watched her silent pacing with a sleepy sort of curiosity, expecting her to either start yelling or crying at any second. When a minute or so passed and she’d done neither, he tried again.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

The pacing stopped suddenly as she whirled to face him. The fire burning in her eyes was slightly off putting and not something he was used to seeing from her.

“What’s wrong?!” She stalked towards him. “What’s wrong is that I was woken this morning by a burly man named Carl - who smelled of cheese and tequila and told me he had a load of packages waiting for me in his truck. I was seconds away from calling the cops when he told me that it had all been paid for by someone named J. Barnes.”

Bucky’s head fell forward, a funny heat creeping up his face. A particular plank of flooring had suddenly become incredibly interesting.

Y/n scoffed. “I was confused at first, because I don’t know any J. Barnes, right? Except I do, don’t I James.”

The sound of his given name fell from her lips in a sort of disdainful disbelief that made Bucky’s head snap up.

“Y/n listen…”

“How did you even know where I lived? Are you some type of creepy stalker customer? I never asked for...I didn’t…” y/n huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I didn’t tell you that story so I could be seen as some charity case!”

Bucky held his hands up and took a slow step towards her. When she didn’t step back, he continued to approach her cautiously.

“First off, I know you didn’t. I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. I was only trying to help.” He now stood only a foot away, and made no move to come closer as he continued. “I’m not a stalker, either. I only had EDITH look you up and send the address straight to the delivery company. I specifically told her not to give it to me.”

“Who the hell is Edith?”

Bucky sighed, “It’s not a who, it’s a what. It’s Stark’s AI. The narcissistic bastard called it EDITH - ‘Even Dead, I’m The Hero’.” Bucky rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help the twinge of pain at the thought of Tony. One of Bucky’s biggest regrets was not being able to make peace with the man before he sacrificed himself against Thanos.

Y/n frowned, opening and closing her mouth a few times. Bucky took a chance and stepped forward, placing his hands gently on her elbows.

“I’m sorry, I swear I was just trying to help. When you said your brother stole all the gifts you’d bought for the kids at the rec center, it made me think of my sisters. There were a few Christmases when my ma couldn’t afford presents and it broke my heart for them. I was just a kid back then and I couldn’t do anything to help, but now I have the means and I just...I just want to help.”

Without warning, Bucky found himself engulfed in y/n’s arms. Her face was warm against his bare chest and he blushed, just now realizing he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on. He pushed aside his own discomfort and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tighter when he felt her body begin to convulse with silent sobs.

They stayed that way for...well, Bucky wasn’t sure. It could have been a minute; it could have been an hour. But eventually, her tears subsided and she pulled back, wiping her face and not meeting his gaze.

“Thank you, Bucky” Her voice was so quiet when she spoke, Bucky wondered if he’d only been able to hear it because of his enhanced hearing. “But I can’t accept it. It’s too much, I can’t ask you…”

“You didn’t. I wanted to. For you and for those kids. Every kid deserves a present at Christmas.”

Y/n shook her head, eyes still glossy, though her lips curved in a sweet smile.

“You’re too precious for this world, you know that Sarge?” She sucked in a deep breath. “Ok, fine, but on one condition.”

Bucky frowned. “Condition?”

“Yes. You have to help me deliver them.” Y/n crossed her arms again, a challenging glint in her gaze. “But you should probably put a shirt on first.”

Bucky cringed. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Y/n’s eyes widened as though she hadn’t meant to speak the words out loud.

Bucky fought the urge to make a smug remark and chose instead to ignore it and save her from any further embarrassment. Though he did catalogue that to contemplate later.

“Alright. Let me get changed and then we can get going.”

Bucky smiled and started toward his room, but stopped to face y/n again.

“Oh and y/n?”

Y/n looked at him and Bucky pretended not to notice the way her eyes trailed over his bare torso before she met his eyes.

“Hm?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Like what you see? Want more? My SPN Masterlist is here, and MCU is here. Thanks for reading! :)

A/N 2: I am using my new and improved taglist. If you want to be added, Send me an ask with the list you’d like to be on. Weirdos are for everything, Heroes is MCU and Hunters is for SPN.

Weirdos:

@hannahindie @amanda-teaches @ellen-reincarnated1967 @feelmyroarrrr @masksandtruths @princessmisery666 @jamielea81 @foxyjwls007 @becs-bunker @super100012 @shy-violet-soul @emoryhemsworth @impandagrl @donnaintx

Heroes:

@arrowsandmixtapes @bethbabybaby

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes Fluff #merry manda's christmas drabbles #merry manda #merry manda 2020 #panda writes #panda writes MCU

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belovedrival · 3 years ago

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Today was a really good day.

My mom came up late in the morning, bringing my birthday present - a large photograph of the Smoky Mountains at dawn, on canvas. I’d ordered it as a gift to myself and had it shipped to my parents’ house, since we live in a rural area and sometimes it’s hard to get bigger things sent here. Mister and I tried to bring it home after Thanksgiving but our car was too small! 😤 Anyway, it’s here now and it looks GREAT.

I gave Mom her Christmas gift. In our family growing up, we always watched the George C. Scott version of A Christmas Carol. (We watched other versions too, but this one was a must.) The soundtrack has always been a favorite of Mom’s. The main theme “God Bless Us, Everyone” is woven throughout the whole story. The composer, Nick Bicat, sells the sheet music for it on his website. After buying two copies (I figured Mom could use one for playing it on the piano and the other for framing - she’s framed another piece of music she loves before) I took a deep breath and emailed through the website, asking if Nick could sign a copy for her. You never know if you’ll get a reply on requests like that - someone else could be handling the emails.

Nick replied back to me personally. He did sign the sheet music, with a personal note to Mom 😊

I’m keeping the envelope it arrived in, because I don’t usually receive mail from England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🇬🇧❤️

Mom totally cried getting her gift. ❤️😊❤️ Success!!

We ate lunch at a cute coffee shop in the nearest bigger town. I hadn’t been to this particular place, and it was fantastic! It reminded me a lot of my favorite coffee shop in our old town. I’ll definitely have to take Mister there. After lunch we did a little shopping, mostly for Jonas. My little boy keeps getting bigger…

Jonas was so good. He slept a bit in the car and at the coffee shop. He woke up while we were eating and just sat in his car seat quietly. I happened to look down at some point and saw him looking at me. ❤️❤️❤️

He did get antsy at Kohl’s so Mom took him out of the car seat and carried him. He’s not nine months old yet and I’m already mourning when he’ll be too big to carry/snuggle. 😭

Mom had to leave soon after we got home. It was really nice just to chat. My dad’s been having some health issues (these have been ongoing for several years) so we talked about him a lot.

There was a small box that arrived on our porch before Mom got here. I’d moved it into the office; it was heavy, and it was addressed to Mister. When he got home he said to open it, because it was a Christmas gift to “both of us”.

You all…He bought a WEIGHTED BLANKET.

I’m in love 🥰

So yeah. Early Christmas gift, giving Mom her gift, exploring new places. Mister. Jonas. Love.

Have a good night, friends. ❤️

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a-singleboat · 4 years ago

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Green-Eyed Valentine

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: Hey! I really liked what you did with my last request, so I was wondering if you could do one where Damien (or Shayne) get jealous because reader gets a valentine's day gift from someone else, please? - @lula132

A/N: We’re getting into all those Shayne requests!

Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, swearing

Valentine’s Day. Objectively the worst holiday in your eyes. On top of still having to go to work, it’s only really socially acceptable to give another person a box of chocolates as a gift. Where was the variety? The flavor?

Additionally, you and your long-term boyfriend, Shayne, had decided to forego gifts that year in favor of saving up for a house together. That meant birthdays, Christmas, and yes, Valentine’s Day gifts, were off the table because you both spend an outrageous amount of money on each other each year. So imagine your surprise upon seeing a gift neatly wrapped in the same red gift wrap the two of you had in your apartment sitting on your desk early Valentine’s Day morning.

“I thought we agreed on no gifts, Shayne.” You picked up the wrapped item, turning it over in search of a tag. When you found there was none, it only made you more suspicious of your boyfriend.

“That wasn’t me,” he said, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you fiddle with a loose piece of wrapping paper on the side. While he recognized the wrapping paper, he was one-hundred percent sure that he hadn’t bought you anything. You could check his bank statement if you didn’t believe him.

“Yeah, I’m sure thousands of people have that exact same wrapping paper,” Courtney chimed in. You had no idea where she had come from but judging by the still-steaming coffee in her hands, you were willing to bet from the office kitchen. “I’m pretty sure Ian has that wrapping paper, too.”

You blinked, unsure on how to process that information. “So you think Ian got me a Valentine’s Day gift?”

“Why would Ian--?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Courtney cut Shayne off with a laugh, settling her coffee on your desk. She took the gift from your hands, smoothing back the bit of wrapping paper you had been playing with. “I’m just making a point. This could have been literally anyone in the office.”

You gave her a smirk. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Uh, a who-dunnit in which we figure out who put this present there?”

Shayne looked a little more than peeved at that. “And when you find out who left the gift there, you can tell them that you’re in a loving relationship and have been for the past eight years.”

You pinched his cheeks, making kissy faces at your boyfriend. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell them that my incredibly handsome, loving, and amazing boyfriend didn’t appreciate their gift, bubba.”

Shayne’s cheeks reddened at the nickname, eyes rolling as you leaned in to pepper his face in butterfly kisses. He could be as jealous or as grumpy as he wanted but as long as he knew you were his, all was well. You trusted him and you were sure as hell that he trusted you as well.

“Go find out who sent you the gift.” He moved his face out of range of your constant kisses, taking one of your hands in his and pressing a soft kiss of his own to your knuckles to let you know he wasn’t mad. “And don’t call me bubba at work, that’s reserved for home and home only.”

With a laugh, you agreed. The nickname ‘bubba’ would stay home from thereon out. You turned to Courtney, who had taken to shaking the box in an attempt to figure out what was inside. The item rattled slightly, most likely having been swaddled tightly by tissue paper within the cardboard casing.

“It sounds like pottery,” Courtney deduced, giving it another firm shake. The rattling, similar to the sound of a metal spoon hitting the side of a ceramic bowl, made you wary of the way your friend was manhandling the gift.

“Maybe someone left it here on accident and it’s not actually for me,” you suggested. “After all, there’s no note or anything. I think even if it was from a secret admirer--which it’s not--” you gave Shayne a pointed look-- “I still think there’d be a note of some kind.”

“But we still can’t strike one out,” Courtney pointed out, setting the box down. The shiny red paper sparkled under the shitty office lights, the glitter already wearing off on, well, everything. “Okay, maybe if we start by eliminating people in the office we’ll find who the gift came from faster.”

“Good idea,” you said, pulling out a spare sheet of paper from your desk. Your fingers sought out a pen, yanking the cap off with your teeth. Quickly, you scribbled down the names of all the coworkers you can into regular contact with“So we already know it’s not from Shayne or you--that’s two people down already. And despite the fact that Ian also has this same wrapping paper, I really don’t think he would have left this for you.”

“Okay that’s three people down,” you crossed the names out, marking a heart next to Shayne’s name. You flipped the paper over, showing him the little heart you’d drawn. He frowned but caught the kiss you blew his way anyhow.

“Here’s an idea,” Shayne said, rolling his chair closer to you. Courtney took a noisy sip of her iced coffee, looking between the two of you like a tennis match. “Maybe, someone accidentally left it on your desk. Like any second now, someone’s gonna come by looking for that thing.”

You glanced at the neatly wrapped box, a little battered from Courtney’s thorough examination. It was possible that it wasn’t supposed to be meant for you. It was half-on-half-off your desk originally, the original cart it had shared had been pushed away by now, moved to the other side of the room.

You pulled the box toward you, running your finger along the middle and feeling for the sticky residue that would be a tell-tale sign of the tape that had once been there. Once you found it, you tapped the pad of your finger a few times watching as the paper clung to your skin before separating.

“The label’s fallen off,” you voiced your observation, looking around the floor for it. “If we find that, we’ll find who this was addressed to and who sent this in the first place.”

Courtney immediately set her drink down, getting on her hands and knees in search of the label. You set the box back down on your desk and got on your hands and knees as well, tying your hair out of your line of sight. You pushed Shayne away, laughing as he rolled back a bit further than you thought he would.

“Do you see it?” you asked, using your phone’s flashlight to look in the dark shadows under your desk. You squinted as the flashlight caught on something shiny, frowning when you saw that it was only a scrap piece of laminate. You picked it up anyways, disposing of it correctly and sitting back on your heels.

Courtney’s arm was halfway under your desk on the other end, reaching for something. You watched as she extracted a thin piece of cardstock. She waved the paper around, blowing off the bit of dust clinging to the corner.

“To, Jessica… who’s Jessica?”

You crowded over her shoulder to read the label. “I have no clue who Jessica is, but if we know the sender we can get it back to them.”

She unfolded the paper a bit more. “From… Ian? Is Ian dating?”

“This is way more exciting than me having a secret admirer, oh my God!” You took the label from Courtney, taping the label back down onto the box. “We should really get this back to Ian though.”

Courtney took the box from you, subtly glancing over your shoulder at your still-pouting boyfriend. He was trying to be sneaky, looking over at the two of you when he thought you weren’t looking. You rolled your eyes, laughing as you realized what was happening.

“He’ll get over it,” you said. “He’s just a little embarrassed. I’ll talk to him.”

Courtney nodded, wishing you luck.

You turned on your heel, looking at your ridiculous boyfriend and giving him a smile. You chuckled, sitting in your seat and sliding over to him and forcing his seat to spin so that you could slot your knees between his. You took his hands in yours, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Instantly, he relaxed, unclenching his fists and lowering his shoulders.

“You know that you have nothing to be afraid of, right? I love you and only you,” you reassured him. “Ten years and counting, remember?”

You pressed another kiss to his knuckles. This was nothing new, the extremely light PDA at work. Everyone had gotten used to the two of you by now, not caring as long as you weren’t fucking on the desks.

“Yeah,” he said, distracted. His thumb traced over where your ring finger met your palm. It wasn’t difficult for you to guess what he was thinking about. You waited for him to say the words, which you would inevitably reject.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him because you did. It was just that growing up around parents that fought all the time made you wary of the idea of marriage. At the beginning, your parents had been the most in-love people you’d ever known but as the years drug on, you watched as their “love” disappeared into booze for your mom and other women for your dad.

But sitting here in the office setting, as mundane and most likely cliches as it sounded, you wouldn’t hate the idea of marrying him. He reminded you of everything your parents weren’t and he managed to remind you every day that the two of you were not your parents and never would be, though the fear lingered.

“You’ve got work to do, lover boy,” you teased, pressing one last kiss to his knuckles. “And I have a video of your dorky ass to edit.”

Shayne sighed so lightly that if the printer had been running copies you would have missed it. But he let you get back to work, this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of conversation.

“I love you,” you reminded him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I love you, too.”

TAGLISTS

Permanent

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @lemirabitur @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000

Smosh

@andreasworlsboring101

#shayne topp #shayne topp imagine #shayne topp x reader #shayne topp fanfiction #shayne #topp #smosh #courtney miller #ian hecox #smosh games #shayne topp x fem!reader #fem!reader #reader insert #reader #Female reader #shayne topp x y/n #y/n #valentines day

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chainofclovers · 4 years ago

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@little-brisk tagged the entire internet a la livejournal, and I will do the same! Answer these if you wanna answer them.

1. Name/Nicknames: off to a great start by refusing to put my real name here! however, my fandom nickname is CoC or just “coc” which makes me laugh

2. Gender: (cis) woman, lazy femme, lesbian

3. Star Sign: scorpio! i’m not scary but i am very much a scorpio

4. Height: 5′3″ (i’m actually a bit taller than 5′3″ but it sounds like I’m saying “I’m six and three-quarters years old!” to say I’m 5′3.5″. But I am between 5′3″ and 5′4″.

5. Time: 9:28 a.m. eastern time

6. Birthday: November 4. My birthday is pretty much always me being filled with election anxiety, recovering from election anxiety, or experiencing the day of a massive election. I do not recommend being born at the start of the month in which an unstable democracy re-ups itself!

7. Favourite Band: right now it’s The Weather Station!!!!!!

8. Favourite Solo Artist: Dusty Springfield

9. Song Stuck in My Head: hahahah “Black Rainbows” by Cut Copy because I used a line from the song to title a fic I wrote yesterday

10. Last Movie: watched I Care a Lot last weekend

11. Last Show: my wife and i are about to start watching season four of Dix Pour Cent (Call My Agent) on Netflix. it’s so good!

12. When I Created This Blog: summer 2014!

13. What I Post: feelings about fictional women and real women

14. Last Thing I Googled: “torrey peters” (I’m reading Detransition, Baby right now and it’s so good and I wanted to know a bit more about her!)

15. Other Blogs: I have a website and a tumblr under my real name. That tumblr gets no use anymore and hasn’t for years.

16. Do I get asks?: Not super often, but sometimes! I get asks when I request prompts or ask questions, and sometimes I get really lovely anon (or not anon!) asks out of the blue. I rarely get anything nasty.

17. Why I Chose My URL: because it’s the same as my (nearly) meaningless fic pseudonym

18. Following: 306

19. Followers: 1020

20. Average Hours of Sleep: probably about 7?

21. Lucky Number: 22

22. Instruments: lol, I used to play the clarinet and you should feel glad I don’t anymore. Haven’t since middle school!

23. What I Am Wearing: I am still wearing my pajamas, which are some olive green sweatpants and a brewery t-shirt and a grey sweatshirt

24. Dream Job: I don’t entirely know my answer to this question. My dream life is a writing life, and I have as close to that as I can without literally quitting my job in order to write only the things that I, specifically, want to write. And I don’t want to do that because my feelings about my day job exist on the spectrum of like to love pretty much daily. Even if I’m usually stressed out I am very, very privileged and blessed in my work.

25. Dream Trip: Mexico City but probably not until I’ve learned more Spanish. I’d love to go back to the UK at some point. And I want to explore more of Canada! Oooh and the plains here in the U.S.

26. Favourite Food: homemade bread, by itself or with salted butter or with spicy peanut butter or with butter and radishes. i also love spicy food, especially thai curries, and vegetables (esp broccoli and broccoli rabe) roasted until they’re a little crisp, and lots of different potato-related foods, and the best thing I’ve cooked recently is salmon in a miso-maple glaze and the best thing my wife has cooked recently was this chickpea dish with greens and lots of cheese, omg

27. Nationality: american. womp womp

28. Favourite Song: "time (the revelator)” by Gillian Welch

29. Last Book I Read: the last book I finished was the care and feeding of waspish widows by Olivia Waite (fun book with a terrible cover, MAYBE IT’S JUST ME but if I’d written a book in which a fat forty-something woman is rightfully and happily an object of great sexual desire I’d be miffed if my book came out with a stock photo-style portrait of two thin women in their early thirties at most)

30. Top 3 fictional universes I would love to live in:

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo because reading that book was like meeting new friend after new friend and I really missed them after the book was over! I gave the book to one of my aunts for Christmas and she told me she felt like she’d just met a bunch of new people, and it made me so happy that she had that reaction too.

I am not cut out for a life on the run but all the outdoor settings on the show Wanted are so beautiful so I would be willing to live there and aid and abet Chelsea and Lola if they needed help. I’d return to my own reality the second I met one of those massive Australian bugs, though.

I know I’d be so miserable but Battlestar Galactica was really, really immersive TV for me and I think I’m decent in a crisis and I guess if I lived in the world of BSG I’d find out for real.

#about me #meme #a good old fashioned internet survey #personal

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peterparkerstarker · 5 years ago

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Employee Benefits - Starker

Written for my lovely Crush Anon who requested trans!Peter as a go go dancer at a gay nightclub, feat. “daddy kink, praise kink, humiliation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, the good stuff !!!”

Note: this fic uses the terms pussy and cunt to describe Peter’s junk as a trans man. I chose to use those terms because that’s what he was comfortable with as it plays into the humiliation kink, but it might not be for everyone and that’s okay. As a (mostly) cis writer, I tried really fucking hard to be as respectful as I could be about the trans experience, and make the humiliation more about Peter being desperate for Tony to fuck him than about his trans-ness.

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

Peter was nervous about tonight.

It was his first shift at his new job, and anybody would be nervous on their first day, he reminded himself. It was normal, totally and completely normal.

Except for the fact that this wasn’t a normal job. Not in the least bit. He knew what he was getting himself into when he’d applied. But now that he was actually here, all dressed up and ready to go, he suddenly wondered if this was a bad life decision.

Go go dancer at a gay bar. What the hell was he thinking?

Sure, he and MJ had spent so many late nights practicing his moves, and Ned had lent him the money for his outfit, or at least what little clothing it comprised of. And they’d both lied their asses off to get Aunt May to believe he was safe with them, at an overnight astronomy club field trip. He was 18, so he was perfectly within his right to get a job dancing at this bar, but May would’ve thrown a fit and grounded him, so this was the best option he’d had.

He shifted awkwardly in his outfit, a red leather chest harness that distracted from the binder he wore under it. At least he hoped it did. Ned had spent all his savings to help Peter order it online, and while Peter had insisted he’d pay him back by Christmas, they both knew there was no way he could afford to.

He had tight blue shorts on as well, into which he’d securely tucked his packer, another gift from Ned with MJ’s help for his birthday last year. Peter glanced at himself in the mirror one last time before deciding there was nothing else he could do to get ready and would have to just go out and do the fucking job. This is what he’d willingly signed up for, after all.

He took a deep breath and left the dressing room.

But now, as he stood there at the back of the stage, trembling, he wondered yet again what the fuck he was doing here. But something within him kept pushing him forward, made his legs keep moving until he came into the pulsing neon lights that lit up the club, the bass pounding and thrumming through his body, and with shaking hands he climbed into the cage that would be his work space for the next hour.

“We like to start the new guys out slow, so you’ll just be dancing for an hour at a time, with 30 minute breaks. We’ll see how that goes and then go from there,” the manager of the club had told him when offering him the job. An hour suddenly seemed like a lifetime now.

He let out a haltering breath, clicked the cage closed around him, and closed his eyes, feeling the music beat deep in his chest, connecting with it, letting his hips follow.

This was the easy part, the part that made him want this so bad. It made him feel high, or drunk or something like that, he honestly didn’t know what either sensation was like, so he had to guess this was similar. Regardless, it felt so fucking good. Like his brain disconnected just enough from his body to be okay. He wasn’t Penis Parker when he danced, he wasn’t the kid at school that everyone gawked and laughed at, he wasn’t any of the shit they put him through. He was just Peter, vibing with the beat and letting his body talk for him. And he didn’t hate his body in those moments. He felt like himself, and that also felt so fucking good.

He opened his eyes, surveying the dark and crowded dance floor, and smiled. People were watching him, entranced by the way he moved, some were even copying him, trying to look cool. Some were significantly more successful than others.

One song blurred into another, faster and more erratic, and he began to let loose a little more, taking up more space in the small cage, grinding against the bars and feeling warm, sweaty hands grope him, desperate to touch him. And fuck, that felt good too. It made him dizzy, being so wanted and desired by these men. They saw him and couldn’t help themselves. And he wanted it just as much as them.

The hour passed in a flash, Peter lost in the music and the groping touch and the high of it all. He saw the light flash that signaled shift change and he begrudgingly let himself out, stopping to wink at a few of the more handsy clubbers on his way out and went back onto the main stage

‘God, what a fucking trip’, he thought to himself. ‘I could get used to this.’

He stumbled backstage, suddenly so much more tired than he had realized, eager to sit down and take off his shoes. They hadn’t been hurting when he was dancing, but now he was so uncomfortably aware of the way they pinched his right pinkie toe and was desperate for reprieve.

The break went by quickly, shoes off, making sure to drink water and adjust himself in the bathroom, and then being whisked back on stage by the manager because he’d been such a hit that they wanted him back as soon as they could.

This time, he stepped in with confidence, eyes locking on a gorgeous man with dark rumpled hair, olive skin, and a tight black tank shirt. His skin glistened, tight muscles in full display as he stared back at Peter.

Hungry. That was the look the man was giving him.

Hunger.

It made him shiver with need, and god, he wanted to be pressed up tight against this man’s hard sweaty chest, grinding and kissing and nipping at his neck. He kept staring, never letting himself lose sight of the man, dancing just for him this time.

Other hands ghosted across his skin, streaking him with glitter, but he didn’t pay them any mind. He had his sights set on one conquest, and he’d be damned if he lost tonight.

Peter didn’t really have experience with sex, but he didn’t intend to let that stop him. He knew what he liked, knew all the fucked up, degenerate things he craved, and he would be damned if his inexperience was going to hold him back tonight.

He danced out the rest of his second set, eyes locked on the man, daring him silently to come closer, but the man was playing his own wordless game. He never came close enough to touch, never seemed to pay mind to the hordes of man grasping for any skin contact they could get with Peter’s soft, creamy skin.

He seemed almost… amused now. Like there was a joke only he was in on, and that only made Peter want him more. He wasn’t begging for Peter’s attention like these other men, he knew in no uncertain terms that he deserved it, and was going to get what he wanted.

It made Peter need him all the more.

His second set finally ended, and as he was climbing out of the cage, pushing away clingy hands of strangers, he lost sight of the man. He’d turned his back for a minute and suddenly the man was gone.

Fuck.

So much for that…

It was the end of his trial shift and he’d been hoping to sneak onto the dance floor to get up close and personal with the stranger, but try as he might, Peter couldn’t spot him anywhere.

He sighed and hurried back to the dressing room to peel off his sticky clothes and clean up. Tonight had been good, great even, but he was sad about the missed opportunity.

He walked into the dingy backstage room and blinked at the bright light, confused.

The man, the one he’d the past hour eye-fucking while he grinded mostly naked against metal cage bars was sitting there, looking calm and expectant.

Peter blinked again, confused and speechless. The man smiled a half-cocked grin and extended a hand as if to shake. “I’m Tony. And you are?”

Peter just kept blinking. ‘Jesus’, he thought, ‘Say something!’

He stuttered out his name and felt a blush rising hot and fast to his cheeks. Why was this guy back here? No one but staff was supposed to be back here.

“Bucky didn’t tell me he’d hired a new kid, and I’m gonna have to give him extra hell for not telling me just how incredible you look up there.”

Peter cleared his throat, working up the courage to say, “It’s my first night.. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Tony. I thought we just went over this?” he said, grinning again and leaning back in the dressing room chair Peter had used earlier.

“No, I know your name’s Tony, but why are you back here? Only staff is allowed, and I don’t want to get in trouble with the manager. He looks like he could kick my ass,” Peter said, finding the courage to square his shoulders and face this man head on.

“Calm down, geez. Bucky isn’t telling anyone shit apparently. I’m Tony, the owner of this bar. Bucky works for me, he’s the bar manager, and he oversees the scheduling and hiring when I’m away for business trips, but this is my bar, I can do whatever I want. And to be quite honest,” he said, looking Peter up and down slowly. “What I want to do right now is you.”

Peter felt like his brain had short circuited just a bit.

This gorgeous man wanted him. And not just in an across a crowded room way. He’d come back to proposition Peter.

And fuck, did Peter want him. His body was aching and sore, but he wanted to do whatever this man asked of him, his need for this stranger overpowered any need for rest after hours of dancing on display.

Tony quirked his head to the side and added, ”Of course, if you’re not interested that’s perfectly fine, no harm no foul, welcome to the Iron Man team, we’re glad to have you and it’ll be strictly professional from here on out. But I get the sense that’s not what you want, is it?”

Peter shook his head no, maybe a little too eagerly, if Tony’s bark of a laugh was any indication.

Tony gestured to him to come closer, and Peter did, getting close enough to touch, but he refrained.

“I want you to kneel for me.”

And Peter did, falling to the ground wordlessly, entranced by the sheer power this man held over him with a look and a few simple words. He would do just about anything to feel Tony's touch, but that wasn’t the game they were playing, and he was more than happy to play this one out.

Tony stroked his cheek, gently, warm and sweet and never broke eye contact. Peter felt himself practically panting, needy and desperate for more.

“I’m probably twice your age, you know?” tony whispered

“I don’t care.”

“I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Well, I never knew my dad, so what does that matter?”

Tony grinned devilishly at that. “Daddy issues huh? I can most certainly work with that.” He unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock, and letting Peter stare doe-eyed at it in excitement. It was just as gorgeous as him, long and thick and just slightly curved up, cut and defined and glistening at the head with pre-cum.

A wet dream come to life.

Peter’s mouth watered, he needed so badly to get his tongue on Tony's cock. Needed to taste and feel and suck and swallow. Needed to fuck him and let Tony have his way with him. Needed to be used.

Tony nodded, ever so slightly, and Peter took that as a sign to start, licking up the length of him gently, ever so gently, and smiled as Tony let out a deep groan. He’d never done this before, but he’d watched enough porn to know the basics.

He knew it wasn’t the best head of Tony's life, but he didn’t care. He was sucking off a stranger on a dirty floor of a gay bar where he was now a gainfully employed go go dancer. Peter wasn’t going to waste a second worrying, he was too lost in the silky texture of Tony’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth, the way his hips thrust to meet Peter’s lips, the panting breaths Tony let out, the little moans of pleasure that encouraged him to keep going, let him know he was doing good.

“Ah, that’s it, such a dirty slut, on your knees for a man you just met. God, you’re gorgeous, lips wrapped around my cock. I wanna wreck you with it, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Tony asked.

Peter eagerly nodded, still too focused on licking the head of Tony's cock to properly reply, and Tony grabbed his chin sharply, pulling his face up to look up into his eyes.

“Such a cockslut. You can’t even focus enough to tell me that’s what you want. Bet I could lift you up and fuck you on this table right now and you’d be begging me to fill you. Is that what you want? Me to fuck you till you can’t take any more? Of course, I wouldn’t stop until I was done. I’d keep fucking your tight little hole, make you scream and cry. Do you want me to make you cry Peter?”

And Peter let out a moan ripped from somewhere deep in his chest. He’d never wanted anything more. He could feel himself dripping wet, his shorts were probably soaked through already.

He needed Tony to pound into him until he came, screaming and crying and begging for more. He needed to be tony’s fuck toy, humiliated and used. His whole body ached with the need to be wrecked by Tony's huge cock.

Tony saw the desperation in his eyes, the way his lip trembled, and suddenly lifted him up off the floor and onto the cluttered table top. Items clattered to the ground to make room for Peter’s slim body, but they didn’t pay attention to them, too caught up in kissing frantically, biting and sucking, Tony working his mouth down Peter’s neck, hard enough to leave bruises. It hurt so bad, but the minute he lifted his mouth from each spot, a wave of endorphins crashed through his body, like a high he’d never imagined before. He wanted tony to hurt him, keep hurting him enough to make him cry out, anything to keep feeling this fucking good.

Tony unceremoniously pulled down his shorts, packer and all, and stared in wide eyed hunger at Peter’s uncovered skin.

He suddenly felt so shy, so self conscious. Humiliated. A searing flash of heat worked its way under his skin. No one had seen him like this. Peter didn’t even like to look at this part of himself, but the way Tony looked at him, like an animal ready to pounce, starving and greedy. He pushed those feelings aside. He needed tony to fuck him, needed tony to know how much he wanted him, how wet he got for him.

And Tony did touch him, rubbing his swollen wet clit, gentle circles at first, getting a feel for Peter's body, and then faster, harder, brutal and wonderful all at once. As soon as Tony knew Peter could take a little, he would go full force, overwhelming him with sensation. It made him shake with need. He needed Tony to stuff his cock into him.

Peter let out a whine, grinding hard against his hand, and Tony grasped onto his chin again, holding him tight with the hand that wasn’t pumping away.

“Daddy doesn’t like greedy boys, you understand? You'll take what you're given and be grateful for it. Cum sluts don’t get to set the pace. You’re mine right now, and I say when you can come, understand?”

Peter looked away, embarrassed to respond, and Tony clinched harder onto his chin, grip tight enough to bruise. At the same time, his fingers slipped into Peter, two, maybe three? Peter wasn’t sure. All he knew was that Tony filling his pussy up was the best goddamn feeling in the world, and he needed more.

He nodded feverishly, letting out a breathy “ Yes daddy,” and was rewarded with Tony's fingers curling up inside him, hitting a spot that made his vision blur a bit.

“Good boy, such an obedient little thing when you want to be. Daddy’s gonna train you so well. I’ll have you coming all over my hand on command soon enough. You’ll be begging to drink my cum after I'm through with you.”

And as he said that, he took out his fingers, held them up for Peter to see his own pre-cum dripping and glistening in strands between his fingers, and then he was thrusting himself deep into Peter's cunt, the head of his cock hitting deep inside him. He was going to be so sore tomorrow, and the thought of feeling a reminder of tony’s cock deep inside him tomorrow made him shiver with excitement.

Tony pounded into him, a brutal pace that left him breathless. All the while, he bit and sucked bruises up Peter’s exposed collarbone, the waves of adrenaline hitting even harder with Tony buried deep inside him. He could feel it building, like waves of heat crashing over him.

“Fuck, Tony, I’m gonna… I think I'm gonna…”

“That’s it baby boy, come for daddy, want you to come all over my cock, wanna feel you tighten around me, you can do it, come for your daddy.”

And he did, clenching and wet and screaming out Tony's name. He hoped the pounding music from the dance floor was enough to drown out his yells as he came.

And then Tony was yelling along with him, spurting deep inside him, coating him with sticky wet cum, marking him, claiming him.

They lay there for a minute, Tony's heavy body pressing him down hard against the top of the table, sweaty and panting and grinning at each other like fools. Tony leaned down to kiss him. Gently, ever so gently. A tender kiss that made Peter fall in love that much more.

As Tony pulled out, Peter could feel his cum squelching inside him, oozing out of his gaping hole, cooling as it trickled down, a messy reminder of what they’d just done.

Tony helped Peter up, helped him clean himself up as best as he could, and gave him another kiss, turning Peter’s bruised chin up to stare into his eyes.

“Tomorrow night I want you here an hour early for your shift. We’ve got some extra hands on training to do… understand?” Tony asked, and Peter early agreed.

He collected his stuff, only just now starting to wonder how the hell he was going to hide these bruises from aunt may. He’d just have to tell her he was staying the night at Ned’s tomorrow, and ask MJ to help him conceal them with makeup.

He was about to leave, still floaty and out of it on how good it felt to be fucked like that, when Tony called out, “Make sure to tell Buck thanks from me on the way out, will you?”

Peter stared back, confused.

“He’s been trying to find me a new boy for a while now, he must’ve taken one look at you and known how badly I’d want you.”

Peter flushed, pride and shame swirling into each other.

“Don’t forget, an hour early tomorrow, and be ready to make daddy happy, understand?” he added, with a wink that made Peter wet all over again.

‘Not too bad for a first night on the job,’ he thought. He could certainly get used to these benefits.

#starker #trans!peter #go go dancer #night club au #gay club au #my fic #my writing

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years ago

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Survey #446

“so you can throw me to the wolves / tomorrow i will come back, leader of the whole pack”

Favourite cheese? American. Superman or Batman? I know literally nothing of Superman, but I like Batman. Who are your best friends? The only person I consider a best friend is Sara. Name the 3 most important people in your life: My mom, Sara, and... I suppose myself since I cherish my mental health VERY deeply. Are you currently learning from anyone how to play any instruments? No. Do you know anyone who is overly flirty with people? Girl or a boy? In my personal opinion, yes. I do believe it's possible to be "overly" flirty, considering you can really lead people on. It's a she. Do you believe vampires are real? Not the stereotypical Twilight kind. No. Have you ever been to a porn website? Were you addicted to it afterword? No. I'm really not into that. What is the most disgusting thing you think the opposite sex can do? I think the most disgusting thing anyone can do is commit rape. Would you rather be able to teleport or freeze time? Which one seems best? I feel teleportation is obviously more convenient and useful in dangerous situations. Have you seen the movie Twister? Did the tornadoes look real to you? LKJFL;AKSDJFKLASJDLFKA;WE NOOOOOOOOOO. I am WAY too terrified of tornadoes to watch that. Have you actually been through a devastating natural disaster before? Hurricane Floyd was pretty devastating. I was too young to really remember it, though. Did your mom ever fix your eggs and bacon into a smiley face as a kid? She probably did. What fast food place, in your opinion, has the best french fries? BOJANGLE'S, AHHHHHHHHHHHH. Do you believe one day aliens might take over the planet Earth? I mean, it's possible, but I don't know. Do you remember when they used to actually throw candy out at parades? I didn't know they stopped. Does it bother you when people burp around you or do you do it too? I couldn't possibly care less, it's a natural bodily function. Just because of societal standards though, I don't burp in public, though, but only around family and close friends. What is one kind of music you’d do anything to not listen to in the car? Anything like rap that has a STUPIDLY loud bass that just annoys everyone within a ten mile radius. When was the last time you babysat, if ever? Did anything bad happen? A year or two ago, for my nephew. No one else was free to watch him, so I had no choice. Nothing bad happened, besides nearly having a panic attack. Do you ever talk to people you met online through webcam? Or is that weird? No. Even Sara and I don't do it, because I'm too self-conscious of how I look. Even though she's seen me plenty before irl. Would you ever consider becoming a scientist? Why would you or why not? Well, I majored in biology briefly... I wanted to be a wildlife biologist. I just adore animals and thought I could do it. I just couldn't handle school. When is the next time you’ll talk to the cousin you’re closest to? I'm not especially close to any of my cousins. Are you really into vintage things? Have you ever been into that stuff? Yessss! is writing something that you enjoy doing? Definitely. Would you rather read or write? Write. Would you rather draw or take photographs? If I wind up being very proud of the product, I prefer drawing, but I take pictures far more. When was the last time you cheated at something? I have no clue. Has anyone ever copied off of your homework assignments? I think so? Do you have any pictures of celebs saved to your computer? ... *stares at my folder labelled "Mark"* What would you consider your favorite holiday? Why is this? Christmas. I love the whole vibe of it. The weather, the smells, the treats, my niece's and nephew's excitement... I adore all the lights and decorations, the gratefulness for family and your loved ones in general... I just love Christmas. If you’re a girl, do you have big hips? Too big? I'd say my hips are normal. Girls, do you think you look good in dresses or not? God no. Not anymore. Have you ever taken a pottery class before? Nope. How many times have you seen Star Wars? Be honest. Once. I didn't like it. Has your best friend ever made you cry? Yes. But in her defense, we've both made the other cry. Have you ever entered a talent competition? God no, I ain't got shit to flaunt. Are you smiling in your Facebook profile picture? Yes. If you wear eye shadow, do you put on a dark colour or a light? And if you wear mascara, what colour is it? I only ever wear black for both of those. What is your favourite Christmas movie? Jim Carrey's How the Grinch Stole Christmas. What do you get complimented on the most? My Markiplier tattoo, actually. What do you think of your best friend’s ex? One I REALLY don't like, the other I'm neutral about. Are you biracial? No. Do you have Pop-Tarts in your house right now? No. We try to not buy them, given they're just TOTALLY empty calories. They don't fill me at all. Is anyone’s birthday coming up? No. Does/did either of your parents serve in the military? No. Do you like sour candy? I LOVE sour candy. Where would you like to go on your honeymoon? Alaska, to see the Northern Lights. Do you usually wear sunglasses when you’re driving? I haven't driven in well over a year. Hell, maybe two. But no, because I'd need prescription sunglasses. Ignoring nutrition, could you live off veggies for the rest of your life? God no. Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yeah. What time do you usually have dinner? 5:30-6:30, usually. What’s your favourite meat? Chicken, I think. What is your favourite meal of the day and why? Breakfast. I just enjoy breakfast foods. What colour is your shampoo? White. Tell me a silly little old wive’s tale you believed when you were a child: My older sister got me to believe that if you said a word a ridiculous amount of times, it'd be the only word you knew how to say anymore, lmao. Shut up, I was little. What was the last magazine you bought? Do you subscribe to any? I don't buy magazines. Whose Facebook profile did you last look at? Was there anything that caught your attention? Uh, that's a good question. Do you regret your last relationship? Not at all. What’s better, mashed potatoes or sweet potatoes? Mashed potatoes, though I'm picky with them and the texture. Did you ever used to make cookies, cakes, or pie with your grandma? No. Do you like kids? Not especially. They ask too many questions and can be really rude, even though I know they usually don't mean to be. What are you listening to? I'm watching Gab Smolders play Dino Crisis 2. I finished her playthrough of Final Fantasy X, so now I feel a void in my soul that I am trying to fill with a new series lmao. Do you burn incense? Not really anymore. I'm not against it, I just... haven't. What is your favorite kind of cracker? Cheese-Itz. Can you name a single song by Billy Joel without looking it up? Yeah; I can name a few, actually. My dad loves Billy Joel, so I heard him a lot growing up. "Piano Man" is a classic. Do you like regular peppermint candy canes, or do you prefer different flavored ones [fruits, bubble gum, cinnamon, etc.]? I actually really like the Jolly Rancher ones. Have you ever been kissed while sitting atop the hood of a car? That's actually possible... but I'm not sure. I think I have a faint memory of lying on a car hood with Jason before. What do you think is the dumbest/tackiest piercing? I don't like calling a piercing either of those, like if they make someone feel more confident and attractive, good for them. I can say I'm personally not a fan of the smiley piercing, though. Have you ever requested a song on the radio? No. When I was a kid at a birthday party, though, one of the girls did. Does your mother still take care of you if you get ill? She helps a lot, yeah. What is one song that always brings back memories every time you hear it? Honestly, too many. I attach way too aggressively to songs. Do you currently have any pimples? Not currently, no. Did anything disturb your sleep at all last night? Ugh, yes. I couldn't sleep for shit. How does it make you feel looking at pics with your ex and someone else? I have only seen one picture of Jason with the girl he dated after me and it. Set. Me. On. Fucking. Fire. It's pathetic. If you’re not in college, why? All it did was give me emotional breakdowns. What do you think about MTV? I am way too out of the loop on what goes on on any TV channel to answer this. What was your very first day of your very first job like? What’d you do? How long did it take you to get the hang of it, and feel comfortable with working? This was waaaay too long ago... All I remember is actually being hopeful, though nervous. I never got to the point of feeling comfortable there. Or at any job. If you have a dog, are they friendly to strangers or other dogs? We don't have a dog, but we do have a cat that is EXTREMELY skittish around strangers. Someone he doesn't know comes through the door? He's bolting to hide. Do people ever comment on or joke about your driving? Well, I got flipped off once by a driver, so... I'd consider that a silent comment. I, to this day, don't know why they (it was a group of guys) did it, but it's stuck with me. What was the last thing to move you? Are you easily moved or inspired? The ending of FFX alsdkfjkaljlkwjer. And yes. If you`ve ever seen your very favorite band, did you cry when you saw them? Was it like a dream come true? If you`ve never seen them, do you think you would? I haven't, but I probably would a little bit. Of all the reality competitions you’ve watched, who are some of your all-time favorite contestants and what shows were they from? From America's Got Talent, I adore(d) Landau Eugene Murphy Jr., as well as Prince Poppycock. I keep up with them both on Facebook. Ever had a friend named Alex or John? One of my closest online friends was Alex. A couple years ago she just... got a boyfriend and fell off the face of the earth. Are you happy with your relationship status? I mean... no, I'm ridiculously lonely, but being single is for the best right now. What kind of stuff do you like on your hot dogs? Just ketchup and mustard. Have you ever been in a spelling bee? No. What is the most annoying thing that your parents do? Mom absolutely always assumes she's right. Dad repeats himself like CRAZY. Would you say you’re someone who has good manners? Yes. Did you parents know what gender you were before you were born? Actually, the doctors couldn't determine mine (or any of Mom's kids') because my legs were ALWAYS crossed when they did ultrasounds. Mom says she "knew" I was a girl, though. Have you ever been addicted to something unhealthy? I'm addicted to caffeine, yes. Who makes the best desserts in your entire family? Hm, I dunno. Do you have good dreams or nightmares more? I have very severe sleep apnea that results in very violent nightmares almost any time I sleep without my APAP mask. Even WITH the damn mask, I have them a lot. When was the last time someone insulted you? What was the insult? *shrug* Do you have trouble reading small fonts? Yes. I used to find it aesthetically pleasing, but my vision is just too bad now, even with my (shitty) glasses. Do you know anybody that believes that magic/witchery truly exists? I think so. Do you find watching animals in their natural habitat to be exciting & fascinating? Absolutely!! The last time you had sex: did you want it, or did the other person want it? ... You know it's supposed to be a mutual desire, right?? What does your sibling(s) call you? "Britt." Has anyone you’ve known claimed to be psychic? Maybe? I'm unsure. Did/do you believe them? Hell no. I don't believe in psychics and believe people who claim to be so are manipulative pieces of shit. Is anything annoying you right now? I am bored to an inexplicable level askldjfla;wejlr. Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? Yeah. Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents or someone else? No. Have you ever felt abandoned? Well yes. By definition, my dad abandoned our family. Where are you? I’m in my bed. What’s been the worst part of this day? I've just been so, so bored. I'm sick and fucking tired of dealing with anhedonia. Who last encouraged you to better yourself? My therapist.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''throne'' by bring me the horizon

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waywardodysseys · 5 years ago

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Unconditionally

Warnings: none but maybe some sexual tension

Word count: 2.7+k

Author’s Note: because everyone deserves to be loved unconditionally; sorry not sorry for this; part 1 of ?; enjoy!

Your heart quickens inside of your chest when you lay your eyes on him. You take in his disheveled chestnut brown hair and wide smile. His coffee colored eyes crinkle as he smiles at you.

“Pedro, this is Y/N,” Kendrick says as he pats Pedro’s shoulder. “She’s the writer I told you about.”

Pedro nods once and holds his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

Your hand had been shaky but once it was inside of his grip, your nerves calmed. You smile back saying, “nice to meet you too.”

You feel his thumb rub over the back of your hand, a gentle and calming gesture. It made you feel at ease, like he knew meeting him had sent your nerves into overdrive. When he let go of your hand, you suddenly felt cold, alone. Meeting people for the first time was unbearable for you but you knew you had to do it. Especially with big star on the small screen actor Kendrick Sanders – an African American gay male – as one of your best friends.

You spent the rest of the night with a few other people you knew, occasionally lifting your eyes to find Pedro in the crowd. You wonder if you were more extroverted would you have talked to him more or just simply thought he was another friend of Kendrick’s; someone you’d only come across now and again.

You don’t see Pedro again until a Christmas party Kendrick hosts six months later at a swanky hotel in lower Manhattan. You’re dressed in a tea-length red dress with a light black jacket. You are making small talk with someone when Kendrick approaches you.

“He’s here,” Kendrick says as he pulls you aside.

You raise your eyebrows. “Who?”

“Pedro.” Kendrick smiles as he laughs.

“I don’t care,” you whisper back, but part of you did.

“Oh! Come on Y/N! I saw you looking for him at my birthday party after you sheepishly walked away from him.” Kendrick sips at his drink. “You should go say hi.”

You roll your eyes, “he probably won’t remember me.”

Kendrick smiles even wider; his eyes seem to twinkle. “Who knows. Go say hi.”

Your eyes travel across the ballroom and they land on Pedro’s form. He has a beer bottle in one hand and the other in the pocket of his trousers. He’s nodding his head and smiling, listening to whoever grabbed his ear for a conversation.

“Go,” Kendrick hisses from behind you.

“I don’t like you.” You hiss back.

Kendrick laughs. “You do. Go for it girl.”

You sigh as you straighten your jacket and begin walking over towards Pedro. Getting closer to him you realize he’s talking to Brie Larson. You stop and turn around.

Kendrick is right there, and he turns you back around, “go. Don’t let some blondie stand in your way.”

You swallow. “Kendrick. No.”

“Yes.” Kendrick says as he places his hand on your back, moving you forward. “We’ve been friends for years now Y/N. I know the look in your eyes when you want something, someone.”

“I don’t like you.” You repeat.

“You do.” Kendrick says as you two are mere feet away from Pedro.

Your heart’s pounding loudly in your chest as you take the last few steps toward Pedro. He must have seen you out of his peripheral vision because he looks up and over at you. He smiles, one side of his mouth is higher than the other. His mustache is thinner but he’s still the same Pedro you met months before. Without any hesitation he moves away from Brie and walks over, grabbing your hand and pulling you away from Kendrick, towards the open doors leading to the balcony overlooking the city on a surprisingly mild winter evening.

You feel his thumb over the back of your hand. It calms you instantly.

“Kendrick said you’d be here.” Pedro finally says when you two are outside.

Wait. What?, you think. “He did?”

Pedro nods. “I asked who was going to be here. He didn’t mention you until I asked him specifically if you were coming.”

Your eyes dart back into the ballroom. You see Kendrick smiling at you and raising his glass. You didn’t know if you were hateful or thankful, maybe both. “He didn’t say you would be here,” you say finally finding your voice.

Pedro sips at his beer, shrugs his shoulders. “How have you been?”

“Good. You?” You ask as your eyes glide over Pedro’s nearly six-foot-tall body.

“Glad I get a break for a few weeks. Go back to Chile and visit my family.” Pedro looks you over. “What are your plans for the holidays?”

“Not sure.” Which was the truth. “Finish writing the pilot for Kendrick’s show. Maybe work on the book I’ve been writing.”

“Book?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it about?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on. Tell me. I love to read.”

You sigh and rest against the railing. “Woman loses her daughter; decides she wants to teach English aboard to get away from everyone’s sad stares. Falls in love, gets kidnap, finds herself. Yadda yadda.” You didn’t want to bore him with any more details.

“Interesting. I request the first copy now.”

You smile, “I’ll make a note.”

“Any plans to see your family?”

You shrug, “I really haven’t finalized anything but yes, I probably will see them.”

“Where are you from?”

“Midwest.” You give him a vague response. He doesn’t need to know everything.

“So you’re a transplant to New York?”

“Yes. A few years ago. An old friend from college wanted to come out here for a summer internship. She knew I wanted to write and told me to find one too, so I did. I met Kendrick during that summer.”

Kendrick had been starting out as an actor on a television show, which you had interned on. You two became fast friends and you had moved up to writing for the show instead of being a measly intern. Eventually a few other shows had hired you out to help them, so you had moved on but kept in touch with Kendrick. Then at his birthday party Kendrick told you about his idea for a new show and he wanted you to write the pilot, and the entire season, which would consist of six episodes for now. You were meeting with Netflix in January to pitch it to them.

Music drifted out the doors and greeted your ears. The melody was soft and slow.

Pedro places his empty bottle on a tray as a waiter walked by. He then held out his hand, “wanna dance?”

You swallow at his outstretched hand. “I’m not much of a…”

“You’ll be fine. Come on.” Pedro says as he wiggles his fingers.

You grab his hand and let him lead you back inside to the dance floor. He gathers you in his arms. One hand resting on your back as he takes your right hand into his left. Your free hand travels up his arm and rests gently on his shoulder. You keep your gaze focused on the top three buttons of the black dress top he is wearing, for you feel if you look into his eyes, you’ll become jittery and clammy.

Seconds tick by before Pedro whispers, “do you want to have dinner with me?”

You tense up in his arms. Him asking you to dinner – what in the…?

“We can wait till January. No rush.” He says lightly.

You don’t trust how your voice will sound if you speak. You nod your head and hum a “mmhmm.”

He laughs lightly as he removes his hand from your back and places it under your chin. He lifts it slowly, making you look into his eyes. His thumb strokes your jawline, he then strokes your cheek, causing you to blush.

You drink in the look he’s giving you. One of smitten and kindness. His look, his touch calms you. When other men have looked at you this way, your heart had always quickened inside your chest but with Pedro it’s the complete opposite. You think of a saying you’ve heard before – when you meet your soul mate everything is calm. Could Pedro be…? You don’t complete the thought. You were just two people who knew the same guy, yet the same guy was trying to set you two up.

“Ever been kissed under the mistletoe?” His voice is soft, interrupting your thoughts.

“What?” You then process what he asked. “Uh, no.”

He lifts your chin slightly more, revealing to you he had stopped dancing and moved the two of you under the mistletoe hanging above your heads.

You return your gaze to Pedro. Not sure if you are wanting him to plant one on you in a room of people both of you have either had or are currently working with. You swallow as you open your mouth, but Pedro stops you by placing his mouth on yours.

His lips are soft and gentle. His mustache tickles your upper lip and you want more. You could get lost in his kiss; you want to get lost in his kiss. If there weren’t others in the room, you’d probably ask him to take you right then and there.

Pedro pulls you closer to him as he pulls slightly away from your lips.

“Pedro,” you whisper, your eyes still closed.

Pedro traces your swollen lips. “Y/N.”

You open your eyes and look at him. You want more, need more. Dare you ask him for more and without a second thought you say, “again. Please.”

Without stalling, he complies and merges his mouth with yours again. This time he keeps an arm wrapped around you and uses his free hand to cup your cheek. His fingers travel into your Y/H/C hair as you become greedy.

Your hands are on the lapel of his jacket, keeping him in place as your lips move against his. You take the risk and push your tongue against his lips, and he opens them, letting you get a taste of him, a taste of the beer he was drinking before. You don’t want this kiss to end, you don’t want to wait to January, but you know you must. You reach up with a hand placing it on the back of his head, your fingers threading themselves through his soft locks of chestnut brown hair.

Pedro gives into your kiss, into your greediness. He’s just as greedy. He wanted more after the first taste. Was a little afraid to ask but glad you wanted more, and he gave you more without question.

You’re the first to pull way but you’re still wrapped in Pedro’s left arm. You reach up and trace his swollen lips. You want those lips all over your skin, you want to feel the prickliness of his mustache along your skin, sending shivers down your spine, and goosebumps across your flesh. You want him all to yourself.

“January can’t come soon enough,” you breathlessly say.

He smiles, “agreed.”

-------

“When’s the date again?” Kendrick asks for the umpteenth time.

You roll your eyes. “Friday night.”

“Where is he taking you?”

“I don’t know.”

“What are you are wearing?”

“I don’t know.” You ground out.

Kendrick sighs. “He tell you what you need to wear or, you know, give you any hints.”

“He said it’s nice.”

Kendrick purses his lips together. “So dinner at least.”

“Yes.” You sigh as the two of you walk out of Netflix’s headquarters.

Once outside in the mild California January air you finally face each other, hug and giggle. Netflix had just said yes to Kendrick’s show and wanted to start filming as soon as March. You had already begun working on the fourth episode because over the holiday break you had plenty of time to write and think about the kiss you had shared with Pedro.

You two had exchanged numbers and kept in contact. Sending texts to each other, even Facetiming here and there. He had finally told you a week ago he was returning to New York City and told you he was taking you out this Friday evening. You knew you would be back in time for the date.

“Somewhere nice,” Pedro had told you. He had said nothing else.

Now Kendrick squeezed you before letting go. “Let’s go shopping.”

“For what?”

“A new dress. For you, for your date! We are in Los Angeles. Let’s go down to Rodeo Drive.”

“Fine, but nothing too racy, or revealing! I am not putting out on the first date however…” your mind wondered off to the kiss you and Pedro had shared at the Christmas party.

“However?” Kendrick asks.

”No. I am not putting out on the first date. Especially since it’s Pedro.”

“The man of your dreams,” Kendrick says over your voice when you mention Pedro’s name.

You laugh. “Whatever Kenny.”

“Hey!” Kendrick says teasingly. “I hate that.”

You smile. “I know.”

Both of you walk down towards the parking lot relishing in the fact you both had just scored a show with Netflix, and you were going on a date with Pedro Pascal.

On Friday evening, back in the bitter cold of a New York City winter, you stand looking at your reflection in a floor length mirror. Your makeup was light, not too heavy. Your Y/H/C hair was wavy and went down just past your shoulders. The dress you and Kendrick had decided on fit you perfectly even with the few curves you had and wasn’t too revealing. The lavender color was beautiful when you first laid your eyes on upon the dress hanging on display inside the first store you and Kendrick had walked into, and once you had tried it on, you didn’t want to try anything else on.

“Perfect dress for the perfect date,” Kendrick had said once you stepped out of the fitting room.

You had looked yourself over in the mirror and did a 360. Yes, it was perfect.

The dress was tea-length, the kind of length you preferred. You were never one for short skirts and tight, revealing clothing. You rarely put yourself out there and it was partially because you were an introvert through and through. You enjoyed sweatpants and baggy shirts and hoodies. Even Kendrick knew you weren’t one to put yourself out there, yet he had become one of your best friends and pushed you further in your life, in your career then you could ever believe.

Now you smooth out the silk material before turning around and grabbing your wristlet which had your phone, some money, a spare lip-gloss and a condom at Kendrick’s request.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You had hissed at Kendrick when he handed one over to you.

“Always be prepared sweetie,” Kendrick had said with a smirk.

“I am not putting out…”

Kendrick had raised his eyebrows. “You never know. The way you two kissed at the Christmas party…honey, you two should have gotten a room that night!”

You had slapped Kendrick’s arm playfully and felt a surge of heat go off throughout your entire body. “I hate you.”

Kendrick had shrugged then placed the condom in the wristlet. “You love me, and you’ll love me even more when you use it.”

“I will not be thinking of you when I use it.”

“Good. Don’t.” Kendrick had said with a laugh.

The doorbell chimed throughout the apartment you shared with your old college friend. She was at work but had wished you luck before leaving. You hadn’t even told her who the date was with and you planned to keep it that way.

You smile as you walk from your room down the hallway to the front door. You open it and are greeted by a smiling Pedro in a black suit, with a white top. He’s holding a bouquet of roses in his hand. “Come in.”

Pedro walks into your apartment and with his free hand he pulls you to him and kisses you deeply.

You moan lightly as you wrap your arms around his neck, returning the deep kiss. Oh, god, how you’ve waited more than long enough to feel his lips on yours and to feel his arms around you.

Pedro pulls away and presses his forehead against yours as he breathlessly says, “I’ve waited a month to kiss you. Was counting down the days. I don’t want to go that long again.”

“Me either,” you absently say as your fingers weave themselves through his hair. Wait. What?, you think as you slowly pull back. “Pedro…”

“I want to date you, only you. I’m ready to dive into this.” He looks at you as he strokes your cheek. “Are you?”

More than ever. “Yes.”

Chapter Two

#unconditionally #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #fanfiction #multichapter #when you meet your soul mate everything is calm

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missytearex · 5 years ago

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Hi! So I’ve decided to do monthly recs instead of weekly recs from now on, which mean this list is kinda long, so I put all the under 10k fics under the cut, but be sure to check them out too! And remember to leave kudos and comments when you do ❤

Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics — [fic post]

larry | 113k | mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Not That Gone by @a-brighter-yellow --- [fic post]

larry | 61k | explicit

A few weeks after Louis and Harry, *ahem*, reconnect at their high school reunion, Harry temporarily moves back home. Louis isn't sure he has the emotional fortitude for a prolonged fling with the man of the dreams.

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl — [fic post]

larry | 40k | explicit

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

I Just Want You to Stay by @sadaveniren --- [fic post]

larry | 34k | explicit

Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

The Spaces Between Us by @justalittlelouislove — [fic post]

ziam | 33k | explicit

Liam is a ghost bound to nothing, feeling nothing. Until he finds Zayn and learns what it means to feel everything.

Give A Little Sing To The Singles by @londonfoginacup --- [fic post]

larry | 31k | teen and up

Harry Styles is an adult now, with a real adult job (and benefits! Whatever those are!). He spends his days at the copier. Copying things.

That being said, no one told Harry that being an adult came with a confusingly chaotic boss, a copier machine that would be hell-bent on ruining his life, and a coworker so good looking that Harry might just have to quit. After all, Christmas is coming and if their office doesn’t win the decorating contest, Louis has threatened to break several laws and kneecaps in retaliation.

Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

larry | 25k | not rated

every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

reach the stars by @disgruntledkittenface — [fic post]

horshaw | 19k | mature

Spring 2021. Four years after breaking up with Louis and moving to New York with his best friend Aimee, Nick runs into Niall and they start dating. When their relationship gets serious, Nick struggles to tell Niall how much he means to him.

Everything I Do by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 16k | explicit

the one where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

High Heels, Red Dress by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 15k | explicit

Louis answers the call when Pearl Harbor is attacked and there is no way around it. The United States is at war. Hiding his queer identity isn't so hard until he attracts the attention of a particular soldier. It's all lies and secrets until the war is finally over. Maybe then Louis can finally have his happy ending. It's up to fate to decide.

when half spent was the night by @juliusschmidt --- [fic post]

larry | 14k | mature

Hi Harry,

I’ve skimmed your website and am interested in hiring you to be my doula. I’m 7 ½ months pregnant and not keen to do this whole labor and birth thing alone. After looking around, I thought you might be a good fit because you mention enjoying unusual people with unusual birth requests. I can meet up any day this week.

Lou

You are the feeling of drugs, pulling the chain of my love by @peujeune — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 10k | explicit

Louis gets bored with all the questions by the next week and tells everyone, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off, in a Facebook post he subsequently deletes the next day. Instead, he chooses to ignore all his friends.

And text Nick.

you’ve set my soul to dreaming by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed — [fic post]

larry | 9k | teen and up

Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

The Truth I Can’t Explain (Smoke and Mirrors) by @fallinglikethis — [fic post]

larry | 9k | mature

Louis Tomlinson scans the horizon. It’s dark, but his werewolf eyes are equipped for that. He sees clearly in the inky black of the forest around them. He and every other wolf can see the moment the first blood mage crosses the boundary into their compound. The mages must think they’ve disabled the wards on the edges of the boundary but the wolves did that themselves when they found out the mages were coming. Louis’ pack has opened the door and put down the welcome mat. It’s up to the mages whether that mat becomes stained in blood.

on the same page by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 8k | mature

The one where Louis doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 7k | not rated

the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don’t exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Gingerbread Show Off by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 6k | general audiences

The Gingerbread Show Off is the biggest event of the year at Harry's still sort of new to him job, and when he's given a spot to compete in it he's beyond excited. When he realizes that he's going to be paired up with Louis, the man who's been sneakily stealing his ideas since almost their first day of working together, he's understandably frustrated.

He still wants to win, though, and he's not going to let his office enemy bring him down.

The Circle of Life is Not a Circle, it’s a Stick by @lounonymouse --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | teen and up

This is a story about Louis, his husband Nick, their daughter Ella, and her pet stick insect Mr Sticky McStick-Face.

B-Sides & C-Cuts by @bitter-leaf — [fic post]

shiall | 5k | teen and up

Niall’s stuck in Toronto the day before Christmas Eve. Shawn plans to make the most of it.

A Not So Silent Night by @lightwoodsmagic --- [fic post]

ziam | 5k | teen and up

Liam's had a crush on Zayn for months, every time they talk on the phone just making him grow fonder. He's just never met him in real life. When he finally gets to meet him, it turns out that he can't take his eyes off him dancing on the table at the bank's Christmas party. Especially when he starts taking off his sweater.

Summer Love by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 5k | teen and up

Summers at his lake house are Harry’s favorite time of the year. They’re treasured moments in time spent with Louis, his favorite person. The boy with the bluest eyes, the brightest smile and loudest laugh. Harry’s best friend for all of his summers. He’s gonna marry him someday. All that Louis needs to do is ask him - again.

my heart got caught on your sleeve by @foliealou — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson decides to come out: a story in three acts.

it's getting bluer (and you can't keep faking) by @dinoflangellate --- [fic post]

nessie | 4k | explicit

For a second, Niall can’t move, pinned in place by Bressie’s casual words. Get you sorted could mean so many things, things he wants, and his brain almost explodes.

I Knew From The First Time by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Harry spent weeks picking out a gorgeous ring, and months planning every little detail of the perfect anniversary trip to propose to Louis. Except it doesn't go as planned and the ring disappears.

Harry Styles Plays with Kittens While Answering Questions by @sadaveniren — [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Louis runs a Youtube channel and Harry is his celebrity guest

to love you in word and deed by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 4k | general audiences

Louis loves everything about living with Harry. Except for Harry’s effusive proposals. Because the problem is, it’s getting harder and harder for Louis to keep reacting like they’re jokes.

Roll the Dice by @allwaswell16 — [fic post]

larry | 3k | explicit

Louis has been in love with Harry since they were eighteen. It isn’t until Harry’s thirtieth birthday in Las Vegas that Louis must finally decide to either tell Harry how he feels or let him marry someone else.

molecular by @dinoflangellate — [fic post]

zouis | 3k | teen and up

The team pushes into the lab, jostling each other through the sliding glass doors. Eenie, meenie, miney, mo. There they are, the four of them, present and accounted for. Louis shoves his way in last, looking sweaty and triumphant, and the hand around Zayn’s heart finally unclenches.

Unto You by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

Louis is a lamplighter celebrating the saturnalia season in his own way.

Harry is heavily pregnant and new in the city.

The holiday of Christmas is yet to be created.

Brring Brring (that’s the land line) by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 3k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been dating for six months and two weeks.

It’s one in the morning, and the phone rings.

Snowdrops and Mice Pops by @ohharold --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

The boys are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas incapable of taking the Hogwarts Express back to London. A botched together friends Christmas would have to do.

step into christmas by leighbot

zarry | 2k | general audiences

the one where Zayn's written a Christmas book for children and Harry brings his son to a local reading.

Oh Valley Girl by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 2k | general audiences

Out past the rolling hills and the churning sea sits a little fishing village, nestled in a valley where its residents are protected from the elements, as well as from the outside world as a whole.

Harry lives in this little fishing village, and she loves nothing more than feeling the earth beneath her and seeing the sky above her and sometimes dreaming of adventure.

Then one day a ship arrives.

Tricks and Treats by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | general audiences

wherein Louis receives a package not intended for him, Harry has a brilliant idea, and the two of them meet properly at a Halloween party.

Gratuitous puns, bone® jokes, and creepy neighbors abound!

This Is Halloween by @hadtobelou --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | explicit

Louis' Halloween doesn't go as planned.

Scarily Incompatible by soidiallednine

larry | 666 | general audiences

Harry seems perfect for Louis. Lottie certainly thinks so. But one really scary choice by Harry will doom them before they start.

something weird (but it do look good) by @uhohmorshedios — [fic post]

larry | 666 | teen and up

Harry’s upset that Louis didn’t appreciate his attempt to put a very-Harry twist on a Halloween meme and Louis tries his best to make it up to him.

take my hand (i won’t let go) by @tempolarriefix — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

in which zayn and liam are in love, niall doesn’t want to third wheel, louis hates scary things, and harry works in a haunted house.

aka the ficlet haunted house meet-cute that you never knew you needed.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia by @kingsofeverything — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis just wants to fall in love for eternity.

the future reflected by @louandhazaf — [fic post]

larry | 666 | not rated

Louis didn’t take the stupid game seriously. Maybe he should’ve.

The Literal Gates of Hell by @evilovesyou — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis has a passion for the supernatural and tends to drag his friends into his ghost and demon hunting adventures. His guardian angel isn’t too pleased when they set out to find one of the actual gates of hell.

You Win by @ziamhaze --- [fic post]

ziam | 666 | general audiences

Based off this AU: A werewolf finds a human who is strolling in the woods late at night, and just before the werewolf goes to attack the human, the human then starts to beat box and the werewolf is too intrigued to attack them.

I Still Follow by @smoke-flowers — [fic post]

zarry | 606 | general audiences

The sky is cloaked in black velvet, but he swears he sees stars.

#fic rec #my recs #my lists #december 2019 #28th appreciation

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jungnoir · 5 years ago

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could i request “s/he’s beautiful. i hope s/he makes you happy.” with lucas please and thank you!

like the kind of movie we used to hate;

wong yukhei | “he’s [great]. I hope he makes you happy.” ex!au. | 1.7k words. | angst.

a/n: I LOVE g.soul/golden, and he recently released this song which fits this so well. funnily enough, I started writing this before I heard it and I realized how well it worked, so here you go!

Were you satisfied with the martyr Yukhei made of himself for you?

There was a good enough chance the invitation ended up in his mailbox by mistake, or perhaps it was just a ploy to get him to send money in lieu of attending (money which he didn’t really have the heart to be giving out, rough times and all that), but whatever the reason behind the palpable surprise on your face, he was here. Wong Yukhei, the boy you’d fallen in love with before he’d fallen in love with you, not the boy who was still in love with you after you’d fallen out of love with him.

He jokes around with your mutual friends, most of them surprisingly paired up and two-by-two leaving early to be mushy in private, and he grins all toothy when you and your new fiancé stand at the head of the table to thank everyone for coming to the celebration dinner. He swallows down the expensive steak you both were paying for even though he hadn’t had a real appetite since he’d decided he would come, chasing it down with even more expensive red wine. He hoped he was reminding you of the person you almost married.

By the end of the night, he’s completely exhausted himself and knows he needs to go soon, so he announces his departure loudly to the table, earning a chorus of complaints and pleas for him to stay, and then he rounds around to you and your soon-to-be and gives you both quick, friendly hugs. He hugs you first, just to get it out of the way, trying not to nuzzle into your neck like he used to, and then he’s on his way to the men’s room to relieve himself of all that “rich ass grape juice”. That earns another round of laughs fit for a completely inconspicuous exit.

Then he’s leaning over the sink with cold water running off his face in rivets to wake himself up from this ugly dream.

This was so much - way too much - and why was he so stupid as to actually come? Was it his pride, wary of being wounded by the possibility of you taking his absence as submission? Maybe it was his friends who all pressured him to “get the closure he needed”, probably because he might not get an accidental invitation to the wedding. Perhaps it was both, or the unshakeable need to see you in person again.

He saw you online, of course. You both agreed to be friends and so he saw the Insta posts of you and your fiancé cuddling at his place before he muted your account. He also got the obligatory “Happy birthday!” “Merry Christmas!” and “Happy New Year!” texts you copy and pasted to everyone, of which he replied to hours too late under the guise of having been too busy to see when you’d sent it. That was it. He missed being able to look you in the eyes, and yet he barely did any of that tonight.

Someone enters the restroom and he immediately straightens up, grabbing a few paper towels to dab his face dry as he cracks a heartless joke, “Must be more of a lightweight on the good stuff than I thought.” The guy gives him a good-hearted chuckle and goes about his business. Yeah, this isn’t the place to have a fucking breakdown, Yukhei.

Gathering himself together, he tosses his trash and checks himself over once more. The collared shirt he wears feels so stiff on him and he just can’t wait to pull it off on the car ride home, so he pops open a few buttons at the top in hopes it’ll help him breathe a bit better. His eyes are just tinged a little red, but it’ll be fine. He can take the back exit out.

Just as Yukhei is leaving the restroom, he is startled to see someone in his way. He immediately apologizes for the close collision, not thinking anything of it with his gaze set on the exit.

“Yukhei?”

Oh god, he hates how quickly he looks back at you.

You’re standing there, hands wringing each other as you smile up at him albeit half-heartedly, “Sorry, you were about to leave. I won’t keep you.”

The stupid part of him that misses hearing your voice is what keeps him standing there, shaking his head and smiling gently at you. He shoves his hands into his pants lackadaisically, shrugging, “I’m not in too much of a hurry. Called an Uber. I’d just be waiting outside in the cold until then.” He’d ordered one twenty minutes before he’d even worked up the courage to say his goodbyes.

Your eyes widen a little and you nod, “Oh! You know, we were just about to leave. I’m sure we could drop you off at home. There’s no need to waste the money.”

Riding in the back of your fiancé’s sedan? He’d rather choke. “Nah, it’s ok. I’m… I’m actually headed somewhere else, so I wouldn’t wanna trouble you.”

“A party?” You inquire. You’re still wringing your hands.

“A friend’s place, actually.” He lazily smirks and hopes that you don’t ask who so he won’t have to make the lie any more intricate.

There’s a slight dimming in your eyes when he says that. It’s so potent, the look on you that says you’re aching to ask, but you think better of it because you clamp your lips together in a tight-lipped smile. Tonight might be too much, but you weren’t looking to make it any more than it already was. “Ah. Got you. I hope you get there safely, then. Make sure you check the license plate before you get in and let m- your friend know who you’re riding with. It’s dangerous.”

How familiar a worry this was for you. He recalled a time when you were telling him to do such a thing with you. Apparently, you did too.

“’course. I’ll be good. You two get home safely too, okay? Don’t get handsy behind the wheel.” Yukhei hopes that his joke is both the right amount of detached and friendly as he can muster right now. He’s got just enough energy to keep this up for a few more minutes.

You look a little scandalized, but humor him with a laugh, “Yeah, you know how I get on a few drinks.”

Rolling his lips inward to wet them, Yukhei gives you a nod and a hum, turning his body toward the exit. He just hopes that your fiancé won’t come over to collect you, put his hands on your waist, whisper in your ear and bask in the triumphant glow of being the one who you decided to marry. He doesn’t have that much energy.

You must become aware that he’s becoming disinterested in the subject matter, because you quickly start talking again, “Hey, um, I hope tonight was alright… I didn’t want to leave you out of this, you know? You… I love you, you know? I wanted you to be here, and I’d like you to be at the wedding too, but I don’t want… I think I made you uncomfortable.”

Oh, you thought that much? Perhaps you weren’t as heartless as he’d initially thought that day he’d received the invitation.

Truthfully, there was a lot he could say right now. He was sure most of it you’d hate to hear but would feel so good coming off his chest. He was also sure most of it would get him kicked out for causing a scene, to which… well, as his patience wanes, he isn’t sure he’ll give much of a shit about. Most of it was for his phone, tucked away in notes that no one would ever read and that he’d hopefully be able to delete one day.

It’s just… this one bit that slips out anyway. “I was surprised… but I’m glad you wanted me here. I… um,” a pained laugh escapes him, “I think you got a good thing going here, sweetness. He’s great. I hope he makes you happy. I promise I’m good. Missed seeing you is all.” His eyes are burning again, fuck. He really needs to get out of here.

“Oh, okay,” you whisper, having the gall to look conflicted over it for a moment, “yeah, I missed seeing you too. Seeing you and our friends tonight again reminded me of old times. I just realized how much I missed that, and how much I want it back. I’d like for us all to do something like this again sometime, maybe without… my fiancé.” Laughing, you shrug your shoulders. At the same time, the same guy from before walks out of the men’s room, nearly bumping into you. Yukhei’s hand leaves his pocket in hopes of pulling you out of the way, perhaps to him, but the man catches himself in time.

“Oops, sorry.” The guy laughs towards you and then, finally noticing Yukhei there probably looking a right disaster, raises his brows and quickly excuses himself.

To his great relief, Yukhei’s phone beeps in his pocket and he quickly fishes it out, practically crying at the sight of the arrival notification. He looks up at you and gives you a quick smile, “Yeah! How about you text me about it later? I’d love to catch up more. My ride’s here though, so I gotta go.”

Sighing, you nod, “For sure! See you later, Yukhei! Be safe.”

He mutters something of a response to that as he quickly pushes his way out of the exit, waving over his shoulder and jogging his way to the front where his ride awaits. With everything sorted, he climbs in the back and breathes the biggest sigh of relief of the night when the car pulls off. He’s even more relieved that his driver isn’t talkative, playing a low indie song over the speakers that thankfully drowns out his attempts at concealing his sniffling. If his driver can hear, he doesn’t mention it.

But it’s just the first night. If you weren’t pulling his leg, there’d be plenty more, and with each one, seeing you would get easier. Post-breakup friendships suck, but it’ll come with time. You’ve moved on already, he’ll follow along soon enough. Eventually, he’d stop hating everything. This was just the first night.

#lucas scenarios #yukhei scenarios #lucas imagines #yukhei imagines #lucas #wong yukhei #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct #wayv #majwrites #sbmusings

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avoutput · 5 years ago

Text

Final Fantasy VII Legacy || Memories of a Great Storm

Legacies take shape before you, around you, through you, and beyond you. As incredible as it might be to be the subject of a legacy, the true strength of a legacy is how it builds you up. When you are young and finding yourself, the building process is a ride, a rumbling beneath your feet, wet clouds in the sky above your head. When a legacy is forming, there are signs that you are still too young to see, but you can feel it. It beckons to you, wanting you to be a part of it. You want to stand at the shore of its coming alongside all the others who want to feel the waves at their feet. Like all storms, everything has to be just right. And like a tree falling in the woods, someone has to be there to witness it, to tell its tale, and in doing so, this tale becomes woven into you. Because it isn’t just the storm, the waves, the quaking that makes the legacy, it’s the people who survive that keep it alive. Final Fantasy VII was for me, this great storm.

The first time I played Final Fantasy VII was on the floor of my cousin’s room on Christmas day. Every tsunami starts as a ripple. I didn’t have a Playstation. In fact, despite reading multiple gaming magazines, I must have glazed past it, because I had never even heard of it. I was too blinded by the Nintendo 64 and its legacy. I went from a Nintendo baby to a Sega kid between console generations, and I missed out on a lot of the SNES until the end of its life cycle. I didn’t want to miss out again, so I put on blinders and put in a parental request for the N64. You can imagine my surprise when FF7’s opening cinematic played out on a tiny tube tv. The ripples became waves and the ocean began to move. When I started playing, I wasn’t even sure what was happening, who anyone was, and how there could have been 6 other games I had never played. My cousin was trying to explain the concept to me, but I couldn’t hear him. I just wanted more. But, it was Christmas day, and in my family, that meant family time. Work. Maybe a slightly unique aspect of my family, but Christmas presents were opened at night around the entire extended family. The middle-kids were responsible for passing out all of the gifts to every other member of the family, and this was a long and painful process, especially for an 11 year old. Once everyone was finished, the middle kids opened their gifts in front of everyone. And even though I hadn’t asked for it, all I could think of was how much I wanted one of those boxes to be a Playstation. Not only did I not have any luck with that, I also didn’t get longer than 30 minutes with the game. Instead, every moment was punctuated by familial obligation. I went home unhappy, unsatisfied, my mind never left Midgar. I took a step further from the shore, deeper into the water.

The internet was still young and so was I. The best I could do, the best I could find, was fan pages and old magazines with little information. I absorbed as much as I could, but color pages and chibi gif animations of the FF7 crew just couldn’t cut it. But in all of the noise, there was some news. They were making a PC port of FF7. Alarm bells. Surely my 2 year-old desktop would be too far behind to play the game. My dreams felt again dashed. Through all of this, my obsession made my mother vaguely happy in a roundabout way. The desktop background of the living room PC was Tifa, and her big breasts helped my mother believe I wasn’t as gay as her earlier impressions, a conspiracy theory of her own making. To this day, she still makes jokes about Tifa. The only thing that would have only made her happier is if she was black. Anyway, the world had caught on to Final Fantasy, and I wanted to be a part of it. But when you’re 11, time is much more of a key to gaining something, it has to pass for anything to happen. As an adult, you can make things happen, but kids, they need an angle. A hard angle. That usually means you need the parents to come through, but they need to be unwitting participants in your obsession, pawns in your game.

Luckily, my dad was KING PAWN. My father, always the type to want to be on the cutting edge, bought us (himself) a laptop. This was out of nowhere, no prodding or manipulation, and while his claims for having bought the machine for work and school were dubious at best, I went with it. And with that came the specs I would need to play the PC version. But there was a catch. Christmas had passed and my birthday was in the fall, months from our current Spring. There wasn’t a free pass in sight. No amount of chores would fill my coffers and quell the storm in my heart. I need another rube. But with Spring came green. Money right out of the ground. My best friend had a lawn mower and I had a plan. Get this, what if we mowed lawns… for money? Bam! Winning ticket. There were one million old ladies and lads dying to give money to cute kids dragging a lawnmower from house to house. After mowing what felt like one thousand lawns, I was able to buy a copy. The storm was becoming a hurricane.

It was time to monopolize my dad’s new toy. Like most of his new toys, if it wasn’t a paperback book, he spent barely any time with it after a few weeks, so it worked in my favor. As fast as childhood actually passes, to children, the relative perception of time’s passing is slower than an adult’s. The more they want something, the longer it takes to manifest. Mix that with a negatively polarized Murphy’s Law, and you get your worst scenario; a computer that can run the first few hours, but crashes during certain enemy moves. This is where we meet the eye of the storm. My resolve is broken, my will shattered. How will I ever play this game? A million years passed (about a week), and that is when I realized my closest friend had gotten a new computer that last Christmas. A proper desktop model, in his own bedroom. It hadn’t occurred to me to bring the game to his house because PC games required an install and I couldn’t just bring the game home and continue my save file whenever I felt like it. Still, that next weekend, like every weekend, we had a sleepover, and for the third time, I started the game over. I took the game as slowly and methodically this time as I had before. The eye of the storm was slipping past. I was able to pass the Sector 5 Slum to Sector 6 tunnel I had gotten stuck in at home. By that time, I was the only one left awake. As I neared the top of the Shinra building, I could feel the storm in my heart reaching a fever pitch. I was so close. I saved Aeris, met Red XIII, beat Rufus, and sat in awe as Cloud rolled down the stairs on a thundering motorcycle. My heart was racing as I took out enemies to save my allies until there was no more road left. I was so excited, I was at the edge of Midgar. As I punished the highway monstrosity between me and my escape, the storm was beginning to calm, and then, turning red, he melted down and exploded in Final Fantasy fashion. And I had done it. My characters were free. The game was over. To be continued in Final Fantasy 8. RIght?

The hurricane died down, the characters begin to discuss their next steps. At this point, I have been playing around 9 hours straight. It was about 2 or 3 AM. I was just beginning to resign myself to take to a pillow and pad on the floor. But then the earth beneath the sea began to move and the waves began to take shape once again. And then, suddenly and with no provocation, the city of Midgar became a mere fraction of its size and Cloud became a giant. The world had shrunk and in the distance the curvature of the world could be seen. I began to move around and enemies appeared on my path. The waves miles of shore had become the size of skyscrapers. All at once I realized that it wasn’t the end. There was more. So much more. It wouldn’t be Final Fantasy 8 until I beat Sephiroth. There were 2 other discs. What was I thinking? Of course there was more. But why did it take so long to get here, to find more. I was bamboozled by the sights and sounds of Midgar, sung a sirens song by Avalanche and Shinra, and believed my mission would take shape and be completed inside the walls of some slums in some city that surely didn’t make up the entire world. Sephiroth and Shinra were a threat to the world, not just the people of this city. That was when the tidal wave met the shore. A tsunami of realization. A whole new identity was consuming me.

In the calm of the wave that had consumed me, weightless in my memories, my brain started making connections. My cousin introduced me to manga like Dragon Ball and Akira. I had grown up on a steady diet of Mario Bros, Sailor Moon, Sonic the Hedgehog, not to mention the growing phenom Pokemon. He told me all these animated dreamscapes came from Japan. A friend of mine showed me Final Fantasy III on his SNES, but it didn’t excite me like Link to the Past or Mario Kart. Cloud was not in Final Fantasy III as far as I could remember, but I had missed the other installments in between. And the world didn’t look at all similar. Who made this game? Squaresoft? I’ve never played a genuine Nintendo game on a computer before. But this came out on Playstation. What is happening? Oh, Sephiroth put a tree through a snake. Maybe all of these things are Japanese? My cousin told me Sega and Nintendo were from Japan. Wow, that is a big cannon and now I have to march and get on a boat? How much longer could this game be? I could feel myself getting tired. This is a nice beach town. What time is it? I have to get to the Golden Saucer next. A tap on my shoulder, sun in my eyes, my friend says, “Dude, you are still awake? Did you play all night?”

My eyes were open. The tidal wave had passed and I was baptised a whole new person. I was awake floating on a sea of my own consciousness. The next 10 years of my life would be shaped by RPG’s, Anime, Manga, Computers, D&D, and Cinema. Nerd Culture. I found a whole new person after playing Final Fantasy VII. It put together pieces that had been lying scattered, shaping a fan, a creative, and a more curious soul. I would challenge peers to try these new experiences, hoping it would awaken them the way it had me. I hadn’t realized that what awoke me was the perfect storm yet and that for most people, they wouldn’t be able to experience it the same way I had. I was able to find comradery in my closest friends and all of these cultural touchstones bound us even to this day. Final Fantasy VII’s legacy, maybe all legacies, aren’t just the collective experiences of having been a part of its success, but in the lives that were shaped around it; we are the base at which the monument stands. It’s legacy is strengthened by those who survived the storm and it continues to thrive because it was the perfect storm. A storm that still draws people in. A great storm that never died. A story we all still tell.

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