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creepypocky · 3 years ago

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Hello dear! May I have a romantic and Nsfw creepypasta match-up please? Feel free to ignore this if they are closed but if you do choose to do this then thank you so much! I hope you have a great day/night!

Zodiac sign: Leo sun, Aries moon, Leo rising

Personality Type: ENTP

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Straight (For now might be bi but i'm going with straight)

I'm 5'4 and I have a very tiny body frame so i'm extremely petite and pretty small. I'm not very curvy and I literally have the body of a cereal box...lol but its fine because I have nice hips and thighs. I have thick brown hair that goes down to my back and it gets tangled pretty easily but its kinda fluffy. I have brown eyes and tiny freckles all over my face and body. I also have a very strong grunge style, like Flannels, band t-shirts, combat boots, leather jackets etc. But i'd also always enjoy a nice oversized sweatshirt or hoodie with a pair of skinny, ripped jeans and some converses or something along those lines.

For my personality.....this is where things get interesting. At first people find me very intimidating due to my resting bitch face and cold exterior but I promise i'm not like that ALL the time. When you get to know me, i'm a big extrovert, goofy and about everything that comes out of my mouth is sarcasm or some dry humored joke. I'm also that one friend in a group where they literally will do the stupidest shit ever like for an example one time it was super dark outside and my other friend was there, while I was trying to climb a tree and I failed and fell out of the tree, and landed on my back. I got straight up after that somehow it didn't hurt.....like at all? But yeah i'm super reckless and sometimes people have to save me from myself if you get what I mean. I also have a very strong "I don't give a fuck" attitude and I will not hesitate to stick up for myself or my friends....like i'm the type of person where if someone glares at me, i'll glare right back. I can have bad anxiety and I can be very self destructive. This is where my feisty, stubborn, hardheaded side comes in. If I want something then i'll fight for it even if it hurts me and i'll get into a bad cycle of putting myself down and trying to do better even if I did great the first time but I always push myself too far and other people have to stop me because I usually can't see it when its happening. I also cover my emotions up and I have a lot of trouble talking about whats bothering me or what problems i'm having emotionally so I put up a wall and I act tough, or happy and sometimes i'll be the exact opposite but I try to hide it.

Weird things about me: I've grown up in the south all my life so sometimes when I talk a few words they'll come out sounding WAYYY more country and southern then I wanted, I don't have an accent but sometimes my words just come out that way. I also love the smell of cigarette smoke....let me explain. When I was a kid my parents smoked a lot and I was used to smelling it and now it reminds me of home and is sort of comforting.

Things I like: I love swimming (I was on a swim team for about 9 years), I love horror movies, I like rain and the sounds of thunderstorms because its calming to me, I also love the smell of rain, I like cloudy days, cooking, listening to 80's and 90's rock but mainly 90's because 90's is the best, My favorite bands are Bush, Audioslave, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Linkoln Park, Pearl jam but i'm pretty open to anything. Things I dislike: Spiders.......I will scream if I see a spider.

So for the nsfw part.....I'm very shy and i'd like it if someone guided me. But i'm 100% a Bottom and I love praise and maybe a tiny bit of degradation. I also have a big ownership kink like if someone tells me that i'm their's....then I might die. Also if they told me that they "Needed" me I would also die on the spot...in a good way. I'm also a sucker for marking like lovebites and hickies? Yes please. But please tease me and edge me because I prefer not having control so someone else being in control is just...lovely. Also pet names! Like Sunshine, Babygirl, Doll....AHHhh I might melt. Things I don't like are impact play or the whole "Daddy kink" It kinda just makes me cringe

I also don't think I really have a type but.....I do tend to love people who are brooding, and intimidating on the outside but a big teddy bear on the inside because that's how I am sometimes. I hate people who are fake or just passive aggressive because they are super annoying to deal with and honestly if you have something to say then just say it to my face rather than behind my back.

Hello :)

|| I enjoyed reading through this. I'll definitely work on it now. ||

I match you with ~ Jeff The Killer!

First off, he really likes your size and style, he has a think for small girls that can still be tough and that’s something he loves showing off when you get together lmfao, he’s like, “Yeah, my girls strong. Fuck you gonna do about it?”

Now, Jeff is a really unstable, violent guy. A lot of people (even me) don’t even see him ever being interested in being in a relationship, so when the creeps saw Jeff with his arm around you, they were immediately baffled by it.

The truth is, though, this man totally wants to have someone by his side, someone that accepts him even though he’s a killer. Someone that’s open to his feelings and is willing to look past all of the horrible shit he’s done.

You’re like that to him, it took him a very long time to get used to how he felt for you at first. At first he thought his brain was just being stupid, but Jeff isn’t dumb. He knows what these feelings feel like, and he recognized them almost immediately after that.

Jeff is really insane, and he constantly leans on you for support and depends on you to keep him leveled at times. It can get pressuring, but despite it all he always makes sure to not blame you if he ends up doing something dumb because he knows it’s not your fault.

He finds your clothing style pretty hot, he really loves badass kind of outfits with leather and band names, because as I said, he loves to show off that his girl is “cool” or something.

He thinks your resting bitch-face and cold exterior is really badass too, being around you always gives him so much confidence and its a great change from the usual fake confidence he has around everyone that he keeps up as a defense mechanism when in reality he was always pretty insecure.

I honestly think Jeff is an extrovert too, like he loves being around people and interacting with them (When they’re not normal people and don’t think he’s hideous, that is). I canon this mostly because when hes alone, then he’s also alone with his thoughts and his thoughts always end up wandering to his insecurities and what he hates about himself, but you often catch him during these times and you reassure him that everything will be okay and that you still love him.

He totally relates to being the friend that says stupidest shit, you two will often just go up to one of the creeps and just start spouting random shit. He honestly fucking loves being goofy with you, and you two are always creating awesome memories together when you prank the other creeps and sometimes each other and he honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

When you do stupid shit that gets you in trouble or puts you in danger, he’s always quick to get to you and make sure you’re okay, he would probably panic a lot though. Like, “What the fuck, dumbass?” “How the HELL did you do that???“ as he’s frantically trying to solve the situation. Will most definitely sit there and laugh at you for a good 5-10 minutes once the whole thing is dealt with though.

You being able to stick up for your friends is one of the great qualities about you that he absolutely adores, especially since before he became a killer he would always get bullied and nobody would ever stick up for him, so one day when you defend him against a bunch of assholes it just warms his heart up and makes him feel so loved, but he most likely wont admit that.

He’d let it slip eventually though.

When you’re feeling self-destructive, he is 100% there for you. Although he’s not really the best at giving advice, he’ll still sit there with you and let you talk your heart out and will listen to every single word because he wants to show that same contribution towards you that you’ve shown him. He’ll constantly reassure you that not everything is your fault and that you’re strong, and he’ll make little promises to you.

If it was a person in particular making you feel that way though, he’d definitely make sure to pay a visit to the motherfucker.

He admires your determination to fight for the things you want, but to an extent. He hates it when you overwork yourself or push beyond your limits to the point where it destroys you, and he wants you to know that you’re not alone and you can ask for help, you don’t have to destroy yourself. He’s more than willing to stay right there, by your side.

He understands hiding your true emotions, because well, he’s had to do it a lot around the other creeps and around his family when they were still alive. So he won’t ever push you to talk about somehting if you don’t want to, but he doesn’t want you to pretend to be okay either. He’s more than willing to just lay with you and do whatever you want if it would make you feel better.

He honestly likes how you have a southern accent at times, when he’s feeling upset or like his sanity is draining, your accent really soothes him so sometimes he’ll ask you to lay it on thick because he could honestly listen to you talk to him and listen to your accent all day if he wanted to.

It’s good that you like cigarette smoke because I canon this man smokes very often.

When it storms at night, he’ll always hold you close to him with a blanket and just listen to the storm sounds with you because it soothes him too. This man is really pent up from feeling driven to constantly murder and just sitting with you listening to the rain and thunder is one of the main things that level him.

He’s really not the best.... at cooking.... but, this means you can cook often for him since he won’t for himself. B)

He will just put you in a car and drive for hours to no destination and blast that 80s and 90s music just to see that smile on your face.

This man will 100000000000% destroy any spider within a 10 mile radius of you.

He understands not liking people who are fake because there were a lot of people who talked shit about him when he went to school, and when he has a problem with someone he will always say it to their face and make them understand that they’re a piece of shit to him.

NSFW:

You like being dominated and guided? Good, because this man is at least 95% a top. He thinks it’s adorable that you’re shy and will most definitely be willing to guide you through the whole thing and tell you exactly what to do for him.

Jeff is really possessive tbh, so when he’s fucking you he will constantly say shit like,

“Fucking mine”

“You’re nobody elses“

“You belong to me, only”

This man will definitely bite you everywhere, he lives to just throw you down onto the bed and start biting everywhere on your body and making sure to leave marks just so you know exactly who owns you.

Don’t worry honey, he will spend hours just filling you with his cock and telling you that you cant cum unless you beg more, or he’ll just pull out right when you’re about to cum on him and just slap your folds with his fingers as a way to make fun of you.

He’ll call you things like, “baby” “dollface” “darling” when he’s feeling passionate but oh boy if he’s feeling angry or he’s punishing you? Be prepared to be degraded all night.

There we go <3

Sorry if this is too long lmfao, I just think that Jeff is a really misunderstood piece of shit. I hope you’re having a great day and taking care of yourself, and I hope you enjoyed this matchup. :)

#creepypasta smut #creepypasta #matchup #creepypasta matchups #jeff the killer #anon ask #smut

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ineffable-endearments · 4 years ago

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Okay. Now I'm going to submit some theories about how I think Crowley and Aziraphale specifically are going to go in the future of Good Omens.

Again, this post is not really...specific theorizing about plot events. It's big-picture stuff.

With that said, this post will get a bit heavy at times, in the sense that it will contain opinions that not everyone will like. It drifted into rambling about queerbaiting and all that stuff. I'm not going to spam anyone's dashboard with drama over it, but it's very possible someone else might try. It's also not really a negative post, depending on what you want to hear, I suppose. But if you're only in the mood to read fluff today, you'll probably want to pass it up.

Oh! Also it's very long, and sexuality is discussed in a vague way that doesn't involve any story elements or body parts.

For starters, I don't think Good Omens 2 - or even 3, if that comes about - is going to have anything explicitly sexual or romantic between the two of them, where "explicit" is things like the characters giving outright definitions of their relationship or outright discussing exactly what goes on between them, either on or off-screen. I also don't think there's going to be kissing or "hooking up" (come on...that person on Twitter shouldn't have even asked). Those actions are too blatant for what Neil has already said about the series. While they technically leave some room for interpretation, they probably don't leave enough.

I DO think it's quite possible other characters will continue to define the relationship FOR them and Crowley and Aziraphale will continue to not deny it.

As far as the queerbaiting debate, "is Good Omens queerbaiting"...it's gonna depend how you define it. I always learned that queerbaiting was basically where the creators intentionally make it look like a character is gay or otherwise queer but then swap that character development out for a cis identity and hetero relationship at the end. The point is that the "bait" leads to queer audiences being actively hurt. That's the behavior that seems awful to me, and I don't see Neil and company doing that.

However, I think it's far and away the most likely option that it will be left up to interpretation whether Crowley and Aziraphale are, you know, a buddy duo or a romantic couple or some sort of ineffable queerness all their own off-screen. So if your definition of queerbaiting is "the characters seem gay to us, but homophobes can tell themselves they're not," then yes, I think that debate will follow us to our graves if we let it.

I am a cisgender, possibly straight (?? demi/bi? I might never find out) woman. There is absolutely no way I could ever tell anybody, ESPECIALLY not gay guys and nonbinary people - the people Crowley and Aziraphale tend to resemble the most - how to feel about their treatment in the story. All I can offer is that I'm one flawed individual and there are things I have the emotional capacity to handle and things I don't. Crowley and Aziraphale as both a canon construct and a fandom pairing mean an absurd amount to me, and I can't hang around in spaces where people are constantly talking about how my own interpretations of them are not enough, or how the story is written with ill intentions. I don't want to stop anybody from venting about it, but I am going to be removing myself from those situations.

I like to imagine 1990 NeilandTerry, or TerryandNeil, as a sort of two-headed God who came up with Crowley and Aziraphale, set them loose on Creation, and now are watching them get up to way more ridiculous stuff in the brains of their fans than they'd ever imagined in the first place. I like to imagine them watching, amused and bemused, as their creations fall in love in thousands of universes, and saying, "Well, we didn't specifically Plan for this, but we did promise free will."

This is psychoanalytical toward a public figure and is therefore a bit dangerous, so please take it with an entire mountain of salt, but I sometimes think perhaps Neil sees some of his and Terry's friendship in Crowley and Aziraphale, and suspect that he wants to reserve the possibility that they could be platonic because he and Terry were platonic, while at the same time leaving room for the fans to have their own interpretations, too. Because if there's one thing that comes up really frequently with Neil, it's his belief in imagination and how much stories matter to people. He can have his little corner of the universe where A and C reflect himself and Terry, and we can have...literally anything we want, as long as we're willing to extrapolate just a little bit from canon. It's not even that much extrapolation! It's just "Yes, they love each other, so what exactly does love mean to you?" and if love means kissing, well then, if we can think it, we can have it.

Given that Neil has written LGBT+ characters before, I think he has non-bigoted reasons for wanting Aziraphale and Crowley to remain undefined, and given even the small chance that those reasons may involve the grieving process for a dead friend, I believe it is unkind to argue with him about it or hold his reputation hostage over it.

With that said, do I want canon kissing/hooking up/all that stuff we put in fics? Listen, I can't deny that I do! Personally, I'd be over the moon. I'd probably be so happy I'd have to go to the hospital to get sorted out. Even the thought of it makes me giddy and light-headed, because that physicality is a part of my own experience of love.

However, there are a lot of people who would feel left behind if that happened. Ace and aro people in the fandom whose love for their friends and partners is just as strong as mine, but who are sex-repulsed or just don't want to see kissing on-screen. The loss of Crowley and Aziraphale as a pairing who are extremely easy to interpret as queerplatonic would be hurtful to them, and I do not want to see them hurt like that. I don't think Neil does, either.

So, once again, the "best for everyone" option becomes a really strong canon relationship based in both narrative function and profound affection, which has genuinely thoughtful queer undertones and leaves open the logical possibility for romantic or sexual encounters but does not insist that they must happen. People, especially fans who are super invested, tend to have an easier time imagining scenarios that take place off-screen (e.g. kissing, sex) than they have erasing scenarios that they've already seen in canon (e.g., if someone wished they could continue viewing it as an ace relationship but they were shown "hooking up"). Also, while relationships are super emotional and extremely subjective, I'd argue that in a long-term adult partnership, the non-sexual connection is more important than the sexual one. As a fan, I'd prefer to extrapolate "they love each other so maybe they'd have sex" rather than "they're sexually attracted to each other so maybe they'll intertwine their whole existences together."

It probably isn't necessary to add, but I will anyway: I'm aware that Good Omens is sort of sacrificing social leverage - the ability to whack homophobes over the head with canon if they try to deny the show's queerness - and is thus not really contributing to making specifically gay relationships more widely seen and accepted. However, I don't think all stories have to invest heavily in every social issue they touch on for them to still be meaningful. I also do think Good Omens is an excellent example of a relationship that is extremely profound without being heteronormative.

I don't think the next season is going to be a rom-com. It will likely not even be a "love story," where the definition of "love story" is "a story that follows the development of a relationship and employs certain plot beats to make its point." Remember that conflicts and breakups are key to love stories, so if it IS a love story, then we're going to have to watch the relationship get challenged in ways some of us might have thought were already resolved in season 1! And while that could be thrilling and ultimately very good, it would also be likely to undercut some of the careful headcanoning and analysis we've already done. Any sequel is going to do that to some degree, but a second love story would probably do it a lot, with interpretations that people are even more protective of.

I'm sort of thinking the next season is likely to be a fantasy-heavy mystery, only because those are the two concepts Neil's introduction led with - an angel with amnesia who presents Crowley and Aziraphale with a mystery. Crowley and Aziraphale's connection to each other can still absolutely be a major theme! It can still be the thread stitching the plot together! It just probably, in my opinion, won't escalate and escalate and escalate like it did in season 1. And it will probably be woven in there among a lot of other plot threads that are, in many moments, louder. Still, I'd love to be left with the impression of these two existences, the light and the dark, subtly becoming more intimate, subtly growing more comfortable in this shared place they've chosen in the universe, gradually starting to behave like they know they aren't alone in the world anymore, all while other things happen to and around them.

Nonsexual physical intimacy - a really great hug, or leaning together on the sofa, or a forehead touch, or something like those, something that could happen in a lot of different kinds of relationships but is undoubtedly based in deep trust and affection and a desire to be close...that's the dream, for me. Oh, how lovely it would be.

Of course, I could be just absolutely, embarrassingly wrong about all this. I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

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violetwolfraven · 4 years ago

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Javid with 20 and 21? Like from friends, teaching each other their foreign language, to dating, both fully able to speak to one another.

One of us speaks a different language and teaches the other some stuff.

and

We both speak a different language and everyone thinks we’re dirty talking but we are literally just messing with them.

Fun! I’m gonna do Hispanic!Jack here because that’s a pretty popular headcanon. And I’m writing Mike and Ike as the same because I think they are??? In real life??? Even if they’re not they are in this. Also Modern AU because that seems simpler.

((I am so sorry that this kind of sucks. I could not come up with anything good for the life of me.))

...

“So, what’s your bet?” Jack asked.

Ike shrugged, “I’m 90% sure Jojo’s got the hots for my brother, but you know, they’re both stupid and probably won’t see it, so who knows?”

This was a yearly tradition Jack had with this certain friend of his. Every year on the first day of school since 6th grade, he and Ike would place bets who would come out in the coming school year. They decided who won simply by going by whoever was closest. As this was their freshman year of high school, they’d been doing it for 3 years, and while both were pretty sure that all of their friends were gay, bi, or pan, there was always the matter of when someone would feel safe enough to admit it.

Jack was proud to say, he usually won, but so far, one of them always managed to guess correctly who was coming out this year, usually within a month of when they actually did.

“So, you think Jojo’ll come out this year?”

“It’s hard to say. He’s got issues at home. If you really wanna know my bet, I think Elmer”

“Oh, yeah. He’s got the massive hots for Buttons. I’ll take that one. I bet he comes out by the end of first semester.”

Ike snorted, “Oh, I’m betting by the end of the month.”

“The usual amount of $20?”

“Obviously. Anyone else?”

“Hmm... Sniper,” Jack decided, “By Christmas.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s a solid bet,” Ike mused, “I’m guessing by Halloween.”

“You have an unreasonable amount of faith in our friends’ self-confidence,” Jack observed.

Ike laughed, “How about the new guy? He seems like a classic closet case.”

“I’m not sure.”

“With how you’ve been looking at him, I’d place bets on you hoping he’s gay.”

Jack figured the look on his face was probably pretty good with how Ike burst out laughing.

Suddenly, Race leaned over to Jack and said something in Italian, a language they both knew damn well Jack didn’t speak.

“Racer, ya know I don’t understand ya when you talk like that.”

“Well, that,” Race flicked Jack’s forehead, “Is just how it feels, big brother!”

“What were you talking about?” Davey asked.

Davey was Jack’s new best friend (adoptive younger brothers; Crutchie, Race, and Romeo not included) who he’d met literally this morning and would already die for. Though Davey was new to the friend group, it already felt, to Jack at least, like he had been there forever.

That did not mean he felt like telling him what Ike and him had just been talking about.

Ike was laughing awkwardly.

“I heard Jojo’s name,” Davey said, seeming to be thinking out loud, “And Elmer, Buttons, and Sniper. Still, talking about your friends doesn’t narrow the possible subjects down much.”

“Hey, Ike!” Mike hollered from the other end of the group, “Get over here! Kath brought her tarot cards!”

“Oh, rad! Sorry, Jack, you’s on your own!”

Ike was all to happy to leave. Race had already started having the argument of the day with Albert. Jack was alone on this one.

“Kath does tarot readings?” Davey asked skeptically.

Jack shrugged, “She don’t really believe in that stuff. She does it cause pretendin’ she does pisses off her dad. He doesn’t need to know it ain’t even her readin’ ‘em. Elmer’s the psychic one.”

“Elmer’s psychic?”

Jack laughed. He hadn’t thought Davey’s face could hold any more skepticism, but he’d been wrong.

“Who knows? Most of his predictions do come true, though.”

“What?”

Jack laughed again, “Let him read you if ya want. You’ll see.”

“Okay. Can he tell me what you and Ike were talking about?”

Crap. Jack had hoped talking about Kath and Elmer’s psychic thing would distract him.

Long story short, Jack panicked and said something sarcastic and mildly flirty.

“Learn Spanish and I’ll tell ya everything.”

Davey chuckled, “That’s cold, Kelly.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I am signed up for Spanish. Maybe you’ll just have to teach me what you know.”

Jack was honestly quite surprised by that.

Did Davey just flirt with him?

Before he could be sure, Davey gave him one last smile and headed over towards where Elmer was shuffling Kath’s tarot cards.

...

Spoiler alert: Davey was flirting with him. Jack quite honestly couldn’t believe his luck, because after a few months of Spanish tutoring and dancing around their feelings, they finally went on an actual date, and if you hit the fast forward button to junior year, they were still going strong.

And Jack had always been somewhat of a... dad friend for pretty much everyone else in his group, but he hadn’t even realized how hard that could be until suddenly, he was getting help from a boyfriend who many of the friend group had jokingly started referring to as ‘mom.’

Also, Davey was damn near fluent in Spanish, now, thanks to the class at school combined with being close with more than a few kids who’d grown up speaking it.

Oh, yeah. And Ike won the bet about Elmer coming out within the month. Jack won the one about Sniper coming out around Christmas time. In short, they were even.

Well, Jack felt like the lucky one, having gotten a boyfriend, but Ike got one about a year later, so... yeah, actually, they were still even.

“What are you thinking about?” Davey asked in Spanish. His accent was still not great, but it was definitely better than it was freshman year.

“Nothing,” Jack said before getting an idea, “But you know what we should do?”

“What?”

“We should pretend to flirt in Spanish.”

“What?” Davey looked super confused, “Why?”

“Because it’ll be funny.”

Mike, being in earshot, sniggered, seeming to agree. Jojo looked a little confused, but he was smiling, too.

Davey rolled his eyes, then lowered his voice to what could be considered a flirty tone, “Like this?”

“Just like that. Fantastic. Let’s mess with them and see how long it takes for someone to tell us to get a room.”

“I don’t really understand why you find that funny, but sure, if you want to. What should we actually talk about?”

“How about flowers? I need to get a certain friend something for her birthday. She said she likes flowers, so do you know what ‘you-know-who’s’ favorite flower is?”

“Why can’t you just say my sister’s name?”

“Because then they’ll suspect something. What’s her favorite flower?”

“I don’t know. I think she likes tulips. And I like lilies, by the way. It’s my birthday, too.”

“Oh, noted, love.”

Mike and Jojo seemed to be helping them, using body language that said they were super uncomfortable. As the only other two at the table who spoke or understood Spanish, Jack could only hope this would work.

Mike tilted his phone so they could see the screen. It was running a timer for how long it would take for someone to tell them to get a room.

Davey smirked cheekily, “You know what she really likes? Yarn crafts. She makes scarves and sweaters. You know this.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack put his hand on Davey’s knee, “I forgot about that. What’s her favorite color again?”

“Yellow. Well... it changes every week. Just get her whatever color. She’ll be happy.”

They kept talking like that, acting like they were flirting but talking about mundane topics, until, sure enough, Specs told them to get a room.

Impressive. Mike’s clock read that it took their friends seven minutes to notice.

Jack was definitely glad that Davey learned Spanish.

#newsies #javid #javey #jack kelly #davey jacobs #jack x davey #violet’s writing

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avengerscompound · 5 years ago

Text

Home - Chapter 4

Home: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2880

Warnings: Angst, parenthood, sexual manipulation, action, injuries, underage drinking and drug-taking.

Synopsis: 16 Years after the death of Daisy, Steve and Bucky have successfully raised two teenage kids with telepathy. Teens are never easy to live with though. Sarah in particular likes to test boundaries. Now on top of all the usual challenges of parenting, they have to deal with troublemaking demigods, a daughter who just wants to be accepted for who she is and running the Avengers. That’s when the children of other super-powered individuals start going missing.

Chapter 4

Bucky leaned against the bus stop shelter on Tenth Avenue in Hell’s Kitchen. He watched his son pace up and down the Street corner. He’d stop for a minute and hold his forehead before pacing again. After a while Jamie strode over to Bucky, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed.

“I dunno, dad. I think you should have brought Sarah out for this. That all city scanning thing is more her expertise. I’m better at the altering people’s thought pattern thing.” Jamie said, running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, but your sister has school,” Bucky said. “I know you can do it. We just need one person who saw anything. Keep trying. I have faith in you.”

Jamie shook his head. “There’s just so much noise. I can’t …” He trailed off, perking up and looking at a woman across the road.

“Got something?” Bucky asked.

Jamie pointed at the woman. An elderly white woman, pulling a bright pink shopping trolley behind her. “Can you go ask her if she saw anything. Even if she denies it, she’ll think about it.”

Bucky dashed across the broad avenue, darting in and out of the cars, much to the vocal annoyance of their drivers. He reached the woman and stepped in front of her. “Excuse me, ma’am.” He said. Pulling a photo of Danielle Cage from his jacket pocket. “I’m Bucky Barnes. You may have heard of me. I work with the Avengers.”

The woman eyed him suspiciously. “You’re the one with the metal arm.” She said it like it was an accusation.

Bucky smiled and held out his hand, flexing his fingers. “That’s me.” He said. “I’m just looking into the disappearance of this girl.” He held out the photo of Danielle to the woman. “Her name is Danielle Cage. She went missing from around here four days ago. Do you recognize her? Remember anything strange happening?”

Something dark flashed over the woman’s features and she winced like she was in pain. Her eyes clouded and when she finally spoke it was in a strangely chipper voice that didn’t match what she’d been saying previously. “I’m sorry, young man. I haven’t seen anything unusual. At least no more so than normal.”

“Are you sure, ma’am? Think real hard. Her parents are worried sick.” Bucky asked. He glanced back across the street to Jamie. He had one hand on his temple and the other was twitching like he was using one of Stark’s holographic computers and sorting through some files.

The woman scrunched up her face and actually made a sound like someone had hit her. “No,” she said. “I’m sorry. I need to go home. I think I’m getting a migraine.”

Bucky thanked her and made his way back across the road. “Anything?” He asked.

“Some people blocked off the street. They shot Danielle. No warning or anything. They must have had some of those bullets that were developed especially for Cage. I thought they’d run out of those… anyway, she just dropped. They dragged her into a van and then rounded up all the witnesses and injected them with something. I don’t know what but that memory was clouded something fierce. I think no one’s talking because no one remembered it happening.”

Bucky scowled. This was really bad. Not just some spur of the moment scheme. This has been plotted and executed flawlessly. “Could you tell who they were?”

Jamie frowned and wrung his hands. “Her memory was clouded. But dad, I think it was Hydra.”

Sarah sat in the back of the car with Olive and McKenna while Steve drove them to Artmania. Bucky was riding shotgun and McKenna was pretty obviously smitten with him.

It had taken all of three minutes after meeting Steve and Bucky for the two girls to realize that their best friends two dads that she rarely ever spoke about were, in fact, Captain America and The Winter Soldier. After some extreme fangirling that had made Sarah want to wipe their memories and kick them out of the car, things had finally settled down. While Sarah and Olive happily chatted about the bands they were going to see, McKenna drilled Bucky with questions.

She asked him about battles he’d been in, what it was like ‘in the olden days’, about his arm. She was obsessed with the arm. Could he feel with it? Did it hurt? How strong was it? She’d touch it and ask him if he felt it.

Eventually, Sarah snapped and told her to cut it out which made Steve smirk and Bucky punch him in the leg.

Steve pulled the car up to a drop off zone near the front gates. He turned his chair and looked back at the girls.

“We’re trusting you with a lot here, Sarah. You’re here to listen to music. Not meet boys. Not to drink. Not to take drugs. Don’t let us down.” He said.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I know, dad. Can we go?”

“Alright. Have fun. If you get in trouble call me.” He answered. The girls jumped out of the car and Steve watched as Sarah grabbed Olive’s hand and the three girls made their way to the entrance laughing.

“Don’t think you’re gonna have to worry about boys there, Stevie,” Bucky smirked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked.

“I think our girl might be into girls,” Bucky said. “Look at her.”

Steve shrugged and started to pull the car out turning it in the direction of home. “Girls are just like that. It’s not like when you and I were growing up either. Everyone is always touching.”

Bucky threw his head back, roaring with laughter. “I can’t believe you of all people can’t recognize when a person might be trying to hide their feelings in case they’re not reciprocated. She’s totally into that Olive girl.”

Steve scowled trying to remember if Sarah had ever mentioned crushes she had at all. She certainly wasn’t the boy-crazy type they paint teenage girls as on TV. She also liked to follow Carol around like a lost puppy. He’d always assumed it was because she saw her as a mother figure and she had powers that Sarah was envious of. What if that wasn’t it at all?

“Oh god, Buck. I have to give her a whole different talk.” Steve said, mortified.

“Why didn’t you tell us those were your dads?” McKenna squealed, as they made their way towards the festival entrance.

“Yeah, well look at how you reacted.” Sarah groaned.

“Did they adopt you or like are you related to one of them?” McKenna said.

Olive’s eyes went wide. “You can’t ask her that!” She yelped.

Sarah sighed. “No, it’s fine. Might as well get it all out on the table. Ask away.”

They joined a line for bag checks and McKenna jumped up and down clapping her hands. “Well, that one first. Like adopted. Surrogate. What?”

“It’s complicated. My dads both were with a woman as well. My brother’s biological dad is Bucky and mine is Steve.” Sarah said.

“That’s so weird!” McKenna squealed.

“McKenna!” Olive groaned covering her face.

“What happened to your mom? Did they break up?” McKenna asked.

“She died. Not long after I was born.” Sarah explained. They reached security pausing the conversation while they had their bags checked.

“So was she super-powered too?” McKenna asked.

Sarah nodded.

McKenna’s hands flew to her mouth. “Are you super-powered? Oh my god you are, aren’t you? What can you do?”

Sarah sighed. This was it. This was the day she lost her friends. “I have the strength …”

“Oh. My. God! How strong are you?”

“Pretty fuckin’ strong. Also, I can do this head stuff.”

McKenna grabbed her by both arms stopping them in their tracks. “What kind of head stuff?”

Sarah picked McKenna up and moved her from the path. McKenna squealed with delight and jogged after her. “I can read minds. Control people. Change memories.”

McKenna’s eyes went wide. “You can read my mind? What am I thinking now?”

“You’re thinking about how hot my dad is. Which is gross by the way. You know he’s like literally over a hundred years old.” Sarah groaned.

“He’s still hot. Both of them are. They used to share a girlfriend, you say? So they’re bi, not gay. Maybe they’d like to have another one?” McKenna said, throwing her arm over Sarah’s shoulder.

“You’re disgusting,” Sarah whined.

“Hey don’t talk to your new mother like that. You’re grounded, young lady.”

They made their way through the ticket gates and towards the main stage. Olive had started leaving room between her and Sarah. Sarah sighed. The whole festival was going to be soured by this. Olive had worked out what it meant to have a friend who can read your mind and now she didn’t want to be friends anymore.

Sarah approached her and put her arm around her waist.

Olive shrugged her off and stared at her. “Sarah …”

“I can read minds. I don’t do it to my friends.” Sarah said. It was a lie sure. But Sarah didn’t know what else to do. Either lie or have no friends. Olive noticeably relaxed.

The three girls spent a few hours listening to bands at the main stage and then decided to go take a walk around the festival. The bought some foods from food trucks and decided to eat it sitting around a fire pit.

“I didn’t realize how cold I was until we sat in front of this fire,” Olive said, scooting closer to Sarah.

A couple of guys in their mid-twenties whispered something to each other. “We’ve got something that will help you warm up.” One of them said offering a flask to the girls.

McKenna took it hesitantly. “What is it?” She asked.

“It’s just whiskey. You aren’t scared are you?” The guy says.

McKenna pulled a face and defiantly took a drink before handing it to Olive. She started coughing as the liquid hit the back of her throat. Olive followed suit and passed the flask to Sarah.

Sarah toyed with the flask. She’d promised her dad she wouldn’t drink but she also knew it wouldn’t affect her. She raised it to her lips and stared at the guys over the fire and then skulled the whole container in one go. She tossed the flask to the guys who were staring at her with their mouths hanging open.

“Holy shit, Sarah!” McKenna said. “Is that because…”

Sarah nodded and made the zip it gesture over her lips.

Sarah’s stunt had the opposite effect to what she wanted. The guys were spurred on in their attempts to hit on her and her friends. They bought more drinks and kept plying the girls with them. As Olive and McKenna got drunker Sarah just started to get jealous. Other drugs were offered to them and once again Sarah remained completely sober.

“You guys should really stop now,” Sarah grumbled.

“That blond guy is cute, don’t you think?” Olive said, ignore Sarah and rubbing her face on Sarah’s arm.

“You don’t even like boys,” Sarah said.

Olive looked at her with her eyes wide. “You said you didn’t read my mind.” She said. “You’re a freak. I do like boys. Leave me alone.” She pushed Sarah and then moved around the fire, sitting next to the blond. She glared at Sarah and the blond put his arm around her.

Sarah sighed. “And so it begins.” She muttered to herself.

“Hello, princess.” A familiar voice said, from behind her. Sarah turned to see Loki standing behind her.

“Loki? Did dad send you to watch me?” She asked.

Loki sat down next to her. He was dressed in casual black clothes. Blending in well with the crowd at the festival. He laughed. “You think either of your fathers would trust me to watch you.”

Sarah giggled. “I guess you’re right. What are you doing here?”

Loki ran his hand through Sarah’s hair, twirling a lock of it around his finger. “I can tell when something is bothering my future queen.”

Sarah elbowed him. “Cut it out, creeper.”

“You know you are above all these insects. You should not concern yourself with their mortal problems.” Loki purred.

Sarah frowned. “But look at them. Dad told me not to drink or do drugs. But why bother telling me? It doesn’t do anything. I could take all the drugs at this festival and just walk out of here. I just want to be a teenager and fuck up and make mistakes like a teenager.”

Loki played with Sarah’s hair for a moment in silence. “I have something you can take.” He said. “It should affect you.”

Sarah looked at him twisting her hands together. Olive had started kissing the guy she was sitting with. Sarah could feel that she wasn’t enjoying it. It was just to upset her.

“What does it do?” She asked.

“For an Asgardian it makes us see other realities. It opens our minds and connects us with all things. It can cause paranoia. Being connected to everything can make the evils come to the forefront.” Loki explained.

“I already feel connected to everything,” Sarah said, frowning.

“On this realm. Yes.” Loki said. “It’s up to you. I know what it feels like to not belong.”

Sarah looked back at her friends. They did seem to be having a kind of fun she was jealous of and worried that she wouldn’t be able to understand.

“Okay.” She said.

“Open your mouth.”

Sarah tilted her head back and opened her mouth. Loki dripped some liquid from an ornate glass vial onto her tongue. It affected her almost immediately. Her pupils dilated and the world suddenly cleared. She looked at the fire and she could see lifeforms skip from the flames. Glowing green threads seemed to run between each person, binding them together. She looked at Loki. He shimmered blue.

She raised his hand so it faced palm out and hovered it in front of hers. Sparks traveled between them, blue from him and red from her. They stood out compared to everyone else there.

“Can you see that, Loki?” Sarah breathed.

“I have seen it. Yes.”

“Why are we different to everyone else?” She asked.

Loki chuckled. “Because we are gods, my darling. Why do you think I’ve started pursuing you like I have?”

Sarah started dancing her fingers over Loki’s palm, watching how their sparks intermingled. “I’m a god? But my parents weren’t gods. Not like you are.”

“No, you’re something new,” Loki said. He moved his hand to her back and slowly ran his palm up and down her back. He knew the risk of this high turning into something dark and dangerous. He spoke softly. Soothing her.

Sarah rested her head on Loki’s shoulder watching the fire dance. “Loki can you be a girl again?”

“Certainly.” His form shimmered. Sarah stared at her and poked her breast.

“How come I can feel them?” She asked.

Loki laughed. “It’s not an illusion, my love. I can be what you need me to be.”

“How come the mundies didn’t notice you change?”

“They are feeble witted. They only notice what they want to.” Loki said, still stroking his hand up and down her back.

Sarah looked back over at her friends. They were both flirting and kissing with the guys opposite her. She sighed.

“What’s wrong, princess?” Loki asked.

“How come the only person who’s interested in me is like a million years older than me and has known me my whole life? It’s weird.” She said.

“These mortals fear all who are different to them. I, however, see you for who you are. I see your value. I can wait for you. You are worth the wait.” Loki replied.

Sarah looked into Loki’s eyes and swallowed. “No one has ever even kissed me.” She said.

Loki stroked her fingers over Sarah’s jaw. “What do you want, my darling?”

Sarah shook her head.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Loki asked.

“I - I - I want you to …” She started leaning into Loki and her head suddenly snapped to the side staring at her friends. The thoughts from the men over there had filled her head. They were planning on taking Olive and McKenna somewhere quiet to fuck them whether they wanted to or not.

Sarah jumped to her feet and stormed over to them. “Get the fuck away from my friends!” She shouted.

Her vision went dark and she felt like something was clutching at her. She spun around to see nothing. The fire was green not red. When she turned back one of the men was on his feet yelling. She could hear him and she couldn’t. There were so many voices. She punched out and he went flying.

McKenna jumped to her feet and grabbed Sarah by the shoulders shaking her. “What the fuck, Sarah?” She shouted.

“He was gonna - gonna do stuff.” Sarah grabbed her head. It was all becoming jumbled. She turned to where Loki had been sitting. He was gone.

Sarah grabbed Olive and McKenna by the hands. “We have to go!” She said and started pulling them to the exit.

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers #captain america #the winter soldier #captain america fanfic #the winter soldier fanfic #stucky #fanfic #fanfiction #finding home #home

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long-bodyswap · 6 years ago

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Deal With The Devil

by vchris1989

I told my son all his life to wear a hat whenever possible, but like any rebellious child, he ignored me and was convinced he was right- that the ravages of UV damage, photoaging, and skin cancer would just ignore him. I couldn’t even get him to wear sunscreen or wear sunglasses. He thinks I’m being type A just because I care about him and his well being, but the real reason is much more selfish. You see, centuries ago I accidentally made a deal with an unfriendly metaphysical entity, Yeah let’s just go with that. Doesn’t sound as bad as deal with the devil, but that’s basically what it was. I was born in an era when maintaining youth was much more difficult because we didn’t understand the importance of diet and exercise to overall physical attractiveness and youth maintenance. We didn’t even have sunscreen or understand that the sun causes over 90% of all skin aging, with the rest being a combo of diet, exercise, sleep quality, bad habits, pollution, and genes. You can see I’ve done my research, but back in the 1600′s, when I was a 45 year old man and verging on death (a respectable age of death back then), the devil heard my cry for help, which he later claimed pierced dimensional walls. I so wanted to live and be youthful again. To have a fresh start at eternal youth. However, if he had just given me an immortality/youth potion I never would have died and there wouldn’t be any soul to collect. That’s when he gave me my ultimatum; that I could possess my son, who had just turned 18, and that I could repeat this process infinitely, experiencing youth and power, and also being responsible for breeding my future vessel. I was assured that in the interim period between bodies I would be protected from disease and fatal accidents. The price for all of this would be the soul of the son I would then inhabit. I think you know what path I took…I used to be quite ashamed, but after about the fifth generation I became numb to the process. In the grand scheme of my life, this is as routine as Spring cleaning. Out with the old, in with the new. So when my son finally turned 18, I began assembling the necessary materials and reciting the incantation which by now I have memorized by heart. This is the perfect time to begin because James is out back, doing his damn sunbathing alone on our private beach. All these years have helped me accumulate quite a portfolio of wealth and investments, all of which will be transferred to James when my current descendant vessel passes upon my transfer. After finishing the incantation I blow out the last candle and collapse to the ground before my spirit is ripped out of my vessel and flies at lightning speeds towards the beach where James is out, asleep and shirtless as he perfects his bronze. My spirit flies straight down from the sky, slamming into his tight and toned stomach, making those abs contract in response as the impact sends me cascading all throughout his body in one quick swoosh. James awakens in a panic, trembling and convulsing, groaning in discomfort as he feels full beyond what is physically possible. His legs squirm together, toes curling and eyes clenched shut while he grips his hands into fists around the towel, pulling with all his might as he tries to will me out of him. James has always been a fighter- anyone could see that from the way his pecs and abs seem to be popping with effort, but it’s no use. My essence flows through his veins and fills every cell of his body, adhering and making his form my own. He screams one last echoing cry before arching his back and collapsing down onto the towel. I’m breathing super heavy, feeling young and athletic lungs expand and contract as I lay in the sand with shut eyes. My heart is racing faster than it ever could in my previous vessel, sending bursts of endorphins and young male testosterone crashing though my new veins, particularly through the veins in my new cock. This is always my favorite part! The inspection of my new body. I’ve had many generations to breed my future vessels into the handsome, cute, and athletic type like James happens to be. James might actually be my favorite so far. I mean, Fuck, the kid’s got amazing legs. Lean yet strong, and dusted with the perfect amount of manly brown hair, leading all the way up his thighs to the prize. James is one hung little fucker, just like I planned when I was breeding him. In spite of his lean physique, the wood he’s packing must be 9 inches hard, perfect thickness surrounded by a perfectly trimmed bush of brown hair. I always teach my sons the important of personal grooming- it makes my first exploration of their bodies much more enjoyable. Going up, James has a lean and toned core- the type of abs and pecs that aren’t huge, but fuck they are perfectly chiseled. There’s just a light brown treasure trail traveling down to his crotch, but I’m hopeful that when he hits his early twenties there will be more chest hair and ab hair. That’s right, because his body is all mine now. No matter how many sons I breed and take over it just never gets old- the satisfaction of entering them and stealing control of their bodies- feeling fresh lungs breathe as I test out my new voice and run my new hands all up and down my new vessel, unable to contain the smile and giddiness overtaking my new face. “You really were a good son, James,” I say as my youthful and sexy voice sends a chill down my spine. “But you make an even better vessel,” I say seductively as I reach my hands around the elastic waistband of these swim trunks, sliding them down and cooing as I rub along my abs and chest, squeezing James’ nipples and giving that meat room to grow to its full 9 inches. Squirming in the sand, I finally reach my limit and grab onto that dick, yelling ecstatically as I’m overcome by the electric pleasure cascading down my crotch all the way to my curled toes and up my tight abs and pecs, making my whole body tense up in appreciation. “Get’s better each time!” I moan as I pump my son’s meat out in the open on the sunny beach. Good thing I own the damn beach so I have some privacy. If James wasn’t sweating before, he’s fucking glistening by the time I feel his balls tightening, earth-crumbling pressure building inside me and spreading down my thighs and up my core as I grit my teeth trying to give this meat the best pounding it’s ever had. “OHHHHHHHH FFFUUUUUUCCCKKKKKKKK!!!!!” I roar as the pressure becomes too much. I shriek as each load erupts from my cock, splashing all over my chest, abs, and face as convulsions of sensation make my back arch against my will. I’m gasping for breath as this stream of manly fluids rockets out of me, making me feel young again- ready to live again. It’s been a month and life couldn’t be better. I get so bored at these funerals after having gone to so many, but it’s just part of the routine. People tell me how sorry they are about my “dad.” I put on my best sad face, maybe even shedding a tear if I have particularly fond memories in the vessel, but by the time I get to the lawyers office and reclaim my assets in my younger body, I am smiles from ear to ear. I plan on living large for the rest of the summer before starting college. I’m always very hard on the future vessels I breed, so James was accepted to Yale University, a family tradition. While there I’ll have time to meet a suitable breeding mate to make my future vessel, but for now I can have some fun! You see, over the years I’ve had time to explore and so I would say I am bi with a slight preference for guys. This was all absolutely forbidden in my time, but what a wonderful era to be alive when I can be an 18 year-old heir to a family dynasty and fortune who loves to power-bottom with his tight, boy ass. I’ve done some exploring, and James’ hole is the best one of any vessel I have ever bred! I intend to make great use of it! This is pretty random, but I think I might change things up with my next son. Maybe move South and pressure him to get into Duke. Hell, I’ll just build them a new library or something and he should be fine. It might be a few decades away, but that’s just the blink of an eye in my perfect existence.

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goddessofgamma · 6 years ago

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Writing Cities and Faulty Electronics, Chapter 6 (Ao3 Link)

Summary: Bruce is is a haze after his date with Thor, but gets some news that will radically alter his week.

Bruce couldn’t believe himself. He’d kissed Thor. He had been the one to lean in, the one to start something. Thor kissed me back, he remembered. Thor held me to him, kissed me like there was nothing he would rather do in the world.

So maybe Valkyrie had been right, he had been checking Thor out. The idea of having a crush on someone was pretty alien to Bruce, he hadn’t properly been in a relationship for about a decade. Since he’d been at Edinburgh, he’d only had the occasional blind dates (all with women) that Tony insisted he go on. Bruce had pushed any romantic thoughts to the back of his head for a long time. He hadn’t even properly considered dating a man before Thor made his way into his life. Sure, he found men attractive, but he wasn’t looking for love, and he really didn’t feel like telling Tony he was bi only to have more blind dates, this time with men, thrust upon him.

Thor had been unexpected. A beautiful, intelligent man who seemed to be really interested in Bruce, put in the situation of having a shed load of reasons for spending time together. His voice is so lovely, Bruce thought as he watched Thor give a lecture, the afternoon before their date. I could listen to him for days.

The whole evening had been a flood of emotions, happiness, anticipation, nervousness. Somehow, even feeling nervous around Thor made him feel good, got him high on excitement, on Thor’s enthusiasm. Bruce hadn’t been sure at the start of the evening whether Thor understood that Valkyrie had set this up as a date. But Thor had held his hand as they waited for their food, his eyes darted between Bruce’s eyes and lips.

Doubts and worries that Bruce had held were overridden as Thor became more affectionate. It was like collecting evidence; holding someone’s hand at a dinner for two, looking with desire at your companion’s lips, these were things people did on dates, things that were firmly placed in the ‘romance’ category of actions.

It hadn’t even felt like a decision when he leant in on tip-toes to kiss Thor. He’d felt a pull, magnetic, towards Thor, a need to know what it felt like to kiss him, to hold him close. As the kiss was returned, Bruce released a tension in him he didn’t even know was there, dissolving into Thor’s arms.

Bruce knew he should have more time to process his feelings, shouldn’t stay the night with Thor, but the whole walk home he could think of little else. He thought of the feeling of Thor’s body pushed hard against him, the taste of his lips, so unfamiliarly masculine and still so sweet. His mind wandered further, extrapolating how Thor’s strong arms would feel around him, imagining how it would have been if he’d stayed, how good it would feel to let himself go with Thor with him every step of the way.

Snapping himself out of his thoughts before he made a fool of himself in public, Bruce opened the gate to his small terraced house.

His phone was glowing red, showing that he had a new message. He grappled with whether to answer it, knowing it would spoil his mood, but reluctantly pressed the play button.

The first message was from the home his father had been looked after. Brian Banner had passed away in his sleep, following kidney failure. The sentence rang hollow to Bruce. He wasn’t shocked, he didn’t feel sad or happy. He just felt numb. The man he’d been scared of since before he could remember anything was dead. The funeral was to be held in two days.

The second message was from Bruce’s cousin, Jennifer Walters. The sound of her voice immediately made Bruce connect much more to the call than he had to the anonymous nurse from the other call. Jen said that the home had called her when they couldn’t get through to Bruce. She’d understand if he didn’t want to go to the funeral, but she would love to see him, and wanted to be there for him if he needed her.

Bruce had a strange feeling in his chest, that a whole part of his life just felt inconclusive. He’d spent so much of his life in fear, wanting to get away from his father and now he was gone, but Bruce couldn’t picture him gone in his mind. The last image he had of him was as he was at his parole hearing, where they agreed to send him to a specialised facility for elderly offenders. Brian looked frail then, almost physically falling apart, but his voice was the same as the man who had yelled at him, yelled at his mother until yelling at her hadn’t been enough for him.

In that moment, Bruce decided. He needed to go to the funeral, needed to get himself to believe that his father was dead, that this was all over.

He booked his tickets over, phoned Jen to ask if he could stay over, sent an email to T’challa to request leave due to bereavement. It felt strange to Bruce to call it a ‘bereavement’. He really didn’t feel like mourning.

Barely able to sleep, Bruce had so many conflicting emotions that he felt queasy. He woke up to the piercing sound of his alarm, his heart racing at 100 beats per minute at his anticipation.

Hulk had been fed last Monday, and so would be okay for food until after he returned but he dropped Val a message asking if she could pop in to check on him anyway.

“G’bye Hulk, I’ve leaving for a few days.”

Hulk hissed.

“Screw you, you little asshole,” Bruce said, his tone fond.

He left for the airport with just a small carry on bag with a few crumpled clothes in it and an Irn-Bru to keep him awake after such a bad night’s sleep.

Jen met him at Los Alamos airport, and as soon as Bruce saw her, his heart slowed to a normal pace.

“Bruce! It’s so good to see you.” She wrapped him in a hug. “It’s been too long.”

“I know, Jen I should have visited in the summer, I just –“ He couldn’t think of a proper explanation. “You know what I’m like.” She nodded.

“You’re too wrapped up in your work.” She shrugged. “So am I.”

She drove him to the apartment she was renting while she was here, telling him all about a recent case she was the defence lawyer for as they went.

“The prosecution was using a deathbed confession as their main piece of evidence, it was so flimsy, and even then, my client wouldn’t just call it out as a lie. We got him off, but God, he was a difficult client,” She finished. Bruce smiled, not really understanding the ins and outs of Jen’s job but proud of her anyway. I guess all those days spent studying in the library together really paid off.

“So, what’s going on with you? You must have just started teaching again, right, how’s that?”

“Eh, good, it’s going good. My students are really attentive, and we’ve got a new lecturer in the apartment –“ His speech slowed a little as he dwelled on Thor. “- He’s really great. Uh, I mean, it’s been really great having him around, helping the department.”

“That’s nice, it’ll be really good for you to have another friend and colleague to talk about the science stuff I don’t understand,” Jen said absent-mindedly, focusing more on driving.

“Um, yeah, another friend.” Bruce adjusted his glasses, unsure whether to properly tell Jen about Thor.

“What was that about?” Jen shot him a look.

“What was what about?”

“You hesitated.”

“Aren’t I allowed to just hesitate a bit?” Bruce loved Jen but sometimes he thought she knew her mannerisms little too well.

“Sure you are, but I know it means you aren’t telling me everything. Tell me about this new lecturer guy.”

“Er,” He couldn’t think why to say no. “He’s called Thor Odinson, he specialises in electromagnetics.” Bruce tried not to let his excitement about Thor shine through in his voice.

“Is he Scandinavian?” Bruce shot her a ‘how did you come to that conclusion?’ look. “Oh, come on, with a name like Thor? He’s either Scandinavian or his parents were a couple of these white American parents who give their kids names like ‘Kayleigh’ but somehow spelt with eleven ‘e’s.”

“He’s Icelandic, originally, so not technically Scandinavian.”

“Does he look like a Thor?”

“How is it possible to ‘Look like a Thor’?”

“Is he pale with blond or ginger hair and a long beard? And super tall?”

“Not a long beard.”

Jen laughed.

“So he does look like a Thor.”

They pulled into the driveway and made their way to Jen’s apartment. Talking for hours, Bruce felt comfortable, remembering the good part of home, how nice it was to have someone who had known him so long that he felt that nothing he said could be a shock in her company. A few hours into their conversation, Jen finally found it in herself to bring up the reason that Bruce had come back to America in the first place.

“You don’t have to go to his funeral, you know.” Jen was calm as she said it, having clearly considered what she was going to say.

“I know,” Bruce quietly replied. “I don’t –“ He couldn’t think of the right phrasing. “I don’t wanna pay my respects, you know. I don’t – I didn’t respect him. But I’m here now and I just wanted it to be over, wanted everything with him to be over.”

Jen nodded.

The funeral was quiet, with only three people in attendance. No one had anything nice to say about Brian Banner. Bruce considered that if he were a more forgiving person, he might thank his father pushing his interest in nuclear physics, but he flinched at the thought. Science is my thing. He doesn’t get to have any claim to any of my achievements.

He gave up the right to that when he slammed my mom’s head against the sidewalk. No, Bruce corrected himself. He gave up his right to claim having anything to do with me before that, when he threatened me, yelled at my mother.

Emotions were buzzing through Bruce, feelings of anger and sadness and spite. He could feel it in his veins, as though someone had whipped a whirlwind of conflicting hormones and nerve signals through him. His breathing sped, and he pleaded with himself not to cry. He doesn’t deserve me crying at his funeral. He stole my childhood, stole my mom, he doesn’t get to have this.

Trying to hold back his tears only made it worse, and soon his eyes were red and Jen was at his side, not holding him, knowing he’d need space, but staying there for him.

“I’m not sad he’s gone,” Bruce quietly said to Jen when the funeral was over, and they could go back home. “I haven’t given a crap about him in thirty-five years.”

“I know.” Jen’s response was calm, not wanting to make Bruce say any more than he was comfortable with.

They ended up getting Chinese take-out, as both of them were awful at cooking. Jen had done all she could to cheer Bruce up and it was starting to work. Who knows? Maybe crying and stopping bottling your emotions up of a little while is actually a healthier coping mechanism.

As they were eating, Jen was checking her phone, which was winding Bruce up a little because it was quite unlike her. The fuzzy feeling of having had an emotional outburst was still flowing through Bruce, but he was in a much better mood.

“Wow, this new lecturer of yours is really, well, something.”

Bruce’s head snapped up to look at her.

“What? Thor? Why do you say that?”

“I’m on his instagram. Have you seen this?”

“No.” Bruce gestured to Jen to show him. His pictures were really funny, no pictures of him working out or being overly serious. They ranged from picture of him and his brother on Halloween, dressed as a snake and a ghost, to one of the classiest pictures on his account, of him posing in a cat café, captioned ‘Do radioactive cats live 18 half-lives?’. Bruce felt heated at seeing Thor. He still hadn’t processed their kiss, found himself wondering if had gone mad and imagined it. Unable to stop a small smile on his lips, Bruce prayed he wasn’t blushing.

“They’re nice photos,” Bruce said, trying to sound normal.

“Nice? They’re a bit weird but I think the fact that he’s hotter than one of those hydrothermal vents you did your third PhD on more than makes up for it.” Bruce tried not to directly look at her, feeling his face heat. “What is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bruce, you’re not looking at me properly. What is it? Is it something about this Thor man?”

Why is it so difficult to tell her? Bruce knew Jen should be the easiest person to tell. She was a liberal as they come, loved Bruce unconditionally. It took a moment for Bruce to click that this would be his first time coming out to anyone. Valkyrie was proudly bi, and kind of assumed everyone else she met was bi until proven otherwise, so he hadn’t even had to tell her. With Thor, well, he hadn’t come out, he’d just kissed him.

Jen was the person in Bruce’s life who’d been there the longest, so even though Bruce knew she would be supportive, he felt like it would change how she saw him, rewrite memories from years ago as a new part of himself was revealed to her. He almost felt embarrassed for not telling her earlier, like he was making too big a deal of it now by having kept it to himself.

This is stupid. I’ll tell her, I can’t feel bad for not telling her before it was relevant, I’ve never really talked much about any of my relationships, she’ll understand.

“I-“ He made himself look at her properly. “I went on a date with him on Thursday.”

Jen’s eyes went wide. She wasn’t the sort of person to go and seek out gossip and root through people’s personal lives, but she did appreciate an interesting piece of news.

“You went on a date with this amazing, brainy muscle-god-man?” Bruce involuntarily smiled.

“Yeah.”

“How did it go?”

“Great.” Bruce didn’t know how to explain it. “More than great.” Jen raised an eyebrow. “Not like that! I – We talked and went for dinner, and kissed him and it was great.” Bruce felt embarrassed saying it, but mentally reprimanded himself. Just because you’re talking about a date with a man, doesn’t mean that it’s any more explicit or inappropriate to talk to your cousin about, Bruce had to remind himself.

Jen beamed at him.

“Aww, Brucie has a crush. Are you going to see him again?”

“Yeah, I will. I thought I’d see him at lectures this week, but then I came here-“

“Did you tell him what had happened?”

“No, I got the phone call after the date and I wasn’t gonna call him up after the date to tell him ‘oh that was a great evening, but my dad was biting the dust as we were biting our shawarma’. I’ll see him soon, though.” Bruce could feel himself get excited at the prospect.

“Does he know that? That you’ll want to see him again?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He’s incredible. How would he ever think I wouldn’t want to keep seeing him?

#bruce banner #thor #thorbruce #gammahammer #thunderscience

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pandabearlikes · 8 years ago

Text

My Husband, Kim JunMeow

Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Chapter o2. I’m Not A Vixen, I Swear

My mother blinks. I stand there as frozen as a popsicle could get and maybe even more frozen than that. Color strips from my face and I’m seconds from passing out in front of the two most important figures destined to be part of my life. With a chummy grin, the stud extends his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” he politely greets with a bow. My mind whirls and my hands reflexively jerk out to retreat his arm as if I’m afraid the female in front of us would morph into a real tiger and maul his beautiful hands off.

Hesitantly, my mother takes his hand. My pretend husband’s politeness strikes her as a positive attribute from the list of qualities her potential son-in-law must have.

“Kim Jun…Meow…?” she raises a brow.

“Mmhm,” his friendly smile charms my mother like a spell.

“Okay, OK, Mum, you got his name. I’ll explain all else through the phone!” I speedily separate them and proceed to scoot her out the door. “I love you, Mum. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll go home over the weekend for dinner,” I apologize and give her a fleeting kiss on the cheek. It calms her enough to not grill me further. With a short shake of the head and palm holding her throbbing head, she struts down the block and gets into her car.

I slam the door shut and heave the deepest of deep breaths. My back slides down the ornate engraved designs of the wooden front door. Palms rest themselves against my sore chest as I take a moment to process what in the actual world just happened. Am I secretly the main character of a crazy webtoon or something?? Hey, you gotta admit it, W was a kick ass Korean drama but the ending was kind of —

Large hands outstretch in front of me, breaking me from my habitual scatter-brained thoughts. Its owner leans over like a gentlemen, prince in shining armor straight out of a fairy tale. On instincts, I take his hand and he helps me onto my feet. The miscalculated force guides me to land right into his chest. It’s so warm and broad and perfect and my heart starts to bubble and go crazy. Bashfully, I peer up at him. Cheeks heat up in temperatures rivaling the degree of the hotness gemstones in the night sky. I think I’m floating on clouds. He’s beautiful. My fingertips trail down his chest and torso.

“Are you okay?” the handsome man breaks the silence by questioning. It dispels the entrancing bewitchment and finally registering what I was doing, I bounce myself back and away from him to hide behind my living room table. I gulp.

How did you get in here? Who are you…?

Instead, the words that spill from my mouth are, “Did we…”

“Hm?” he tilts his head and innocently, inches forward. My eyes roam down his chocolate abs and I know it’s stupid but I feel a sense of satisfaction. The thought of losing my virginity to such a god-like man was…silly…but satisfying because social college norms are pressuring. You try to ignore it but it gets to you sometimes and having gone through 90% of college without having touched the opposite sex made me feel unwanted. Stupid. Stupid thoughts. And priorities much? Shouldn't I be asking him for his identity? He could be a serial killer for God’s sake.

“Did we…do it?” I elaborate.

“Do what?” the man is now just two feet from me. Sensing my discomfort, he settles at the other end of the living room table. A soft smile spreads across his juicy lips and I’m so in awe by how quickly my pulse calms down to his simple act.

“You know…” I chew on my inner cheek, lower my head, and shift my feet.

“I know…?” he pouts. He looks so soft and cuddly, his cheeks puff up and I have to grind my heels against the floor to not go up and pinch them.

“Did we…have sex…?” I mumble.

“Sex?” the attractive human raises his brow. The slight twitch of the corner of his lips sends my heart trembling once again.

“…You know…hah…” I rub the back of my neck, “Hah…we’re both fully grown adults…it’s okay. Chill…chill…it’s not that big of a deal…everyone does it…it’s normal…we don’t have to make it such a big dea—"

As a spurt words out of nervousness, I fail to acknowledge his advancement until he’s literally standing right in front of me. Our toes tickle one another and I’m such a coward, I can’t even tilt my head up to look at him. Instead, my vision coincidentally lands on the bump covered by the blanket around his hip. From the close distance, the thin cotton fabric could only hide so much.

“Like mating…?” his voice is just as soft as his cheeks. But his odd question causes me to look up at him with an utterly confused expression.

“Ye-…yeah…” I blink and nod. Both our cheeks dusts in cherry blossom pink.

“No, I would never do that to you,” he responds. I jolt my head up and bite my lower lip, a little hurt by his response. Again, there goes these stupid and foolish thoughts of self-worthlessness due to being rejected by a perfect guy…

“…without your permission…” the man finishes his genuine statement. Sucking in air, I peer into his oscillating orbs again. They’re so sparkly, with a tinge of azure blue. My tummy flip-flops as my brain repeats his sweet words over and over again. I flatten my lips. He gifts me a pure and gentle smile and automatically, my expressions mimic his. It’s ridiculous and I am not a believer of true love, much less, love at first sight but this moment may have just disproved all my beliefs or non-beliefs.

But I didn’t want to seem like an easy girl nor want to let go of my pride so I backtrack and cross my arms over my chest. “Do you use that line with all the girls you sleep with?” I accuse. He blinks. Hissing, I grumble under my breath, “But I don’t feel any pain…If we did it I should be super sore because you’re so bi—“ I catch myself before my chatterbox lips vocalize any more of my thoughts. He laughs into his smile.

“I…would never hurt you…” the man sincerely promises.

“We-well…tell me who you are then…” I chuck back.

“Kim JunMeow,” he answers right away.

“Kim Jun…Meow…?” I scratch my head, “That’s the oddness name I’ve ever…”

Sensing my distrust, the lovely man picks up one of my scattered notebooks and pens from the table and scribbles onto it. With an adorable signature grin, he turns the notebook and reveals the writing.

“Kim JunMyeon,” I read out loud. “Oh, JunMyeon,” I laugh. “You can’t even say your own name? Is JunMeow a nickname?” I giggle and admit, “It’s kinda cute.”

Junmyeon’s expressions liven at my comment. “Will you call me by ‘JunMeow’ then?” he shyly requests and looks at me with hopeful eyes.

“Sure!” I chirp. The room echoes with our bashful giggles. Then I backtrack again; my expression grows serious and I grab a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon. Narrowing my eyes, I finally ask the questions I should have asked a long time ago. “Who are you?” Wait, God damn it, you just asked that. Ask the other question. “I mean…How did you find me?!”

“I followed you home,” the gullible man honestly answers.

My jaw hits the ground with a scoff. “Are you a psychopath?!” I shrill. “I knew it, I’ve been dry all my life, no perfect man would suddenly drop into my world,” I groan and then shout, “How did you even get into my apartment?!?! I’m calling the police!!”

“No! No, please calm down!” Junmyeon holds his palms up.

“Are you a rapist?! A serial killer? Oh my God…I’m going to die. I’m going to…” I shout gibberish as my knees start to shake. He starts to make his way toward me. Trembling, I hold the lamp out like a sword and shield. “Please…please…” I start to break down when he’s inches from me. Though not too tall, his physique towers over me. His strong grip gathers hold of the lamp and he slowly twists it out of my grasp. “I barely lived life. I’ve never fallen in love or achieved any life goals. Please don’t kill me…” I start to beg when he completely strips me of any weaponry or protective barrier. He locks me with his deep gaze as my body uncontrollably convulses at the thought of being raped and killed and the sad thought that my mother was probably anxiously waiting at home for my phone call. I squeeze my eyes shut and let tears fall down like a broken pearl necklace along my cheeks. He’s so close, I could feel heat radiating from his skin and rush through my pores. Then, the unthinkable happens. Strong arms mold around the curvature of my back as its owner brings me into his embrace. Still, not comprehending his actions, I continue to shake against his chest. He presses me closer until the minimal space between our skin starts to perspire.

“I would never hurt you,” Junmyeon repeats his promise from before while tenderly stroking the side of my arm to calm me down. His touch is the closest thing to a miracle; the trembles quiet.

“Yo-you hic you just said you followed hic me home…” I hiccup from fright.

“You let me in,” he honestly answers.

Confusion settles into my soul and I aggressively pinch my arm because I’m so sure I’m stuck in a crazy dream right now. I’ve been reading too much erotic fan fiction for my own good. If only I had as much interest in my college text books…My skin is beet red but the illusion before me fails to dispel. Junmyeon grabs hold of my hand to stop my self-inflicted bruise. He takes my arm and starts to softly brush the red spot with his thumb; it startles me. Taking his lowered guard to my advantage, I grab onto his wrist and launch him in the direction of the door. He groans as his body slams against the front door. Immediately, I climb on top of him to subdue him. His hands naturally hold the sides of my hip and suddenly, our position is more suggestive than I had intended. My breathing is heavy and panting from all the action and anxiety. Junmyeon peers up with a look of innocence and puzzlement. As soon as I feel a heated throb against my thigh, i bounce off him.

“I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU ARE BUT YOU NEED TO LEAVE OR ELSE I’M CALLING THE COPS!” I warn.

He gives me ‘em puppy eyes, they’re so familiar…but I can’t quite grasp the situation. My phone rings. With my eyes locked on Kim JunMeow - I mean Myeon, I sidewalk like a crab over to the kitchen counter to grab hold of my device.

“Hello?”

My father’s thunderous voice almost deafens me. I hold my phone out at an arm’s length to salvage my hearing. “I AM DOWNSTAIRS. YOUNG LADY, YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING!”

I should be relieved. My father, who is a retired police officer is here to save me from this psychopath stalker, but I’m not. I’m not relieved. Anxiety and worry fills my souls for whatever reason, I can’t quite pinpoint. A moment of de ja vu clouds my mind as I glance over to the patient and innocent-looking man. Quickly, I shake off the feeling and misinterpret it as a sign that I was stupidly more afraid of getting in trouble with my parents than being murdered. Very stupid indeed, my logic needs some reworking.

As soon as my father hangs up, I dash across the room, take Junmyeon by the hands and tug him back into my room. Wardrobe doors swing open. I dig through my clothes for the largest t-shirt I could find and hold the contenders up to Junmyeon to find the most appropriate and presentable one. I don’t even question why he showed up at my house without clothes to begin with.

“You’re pretty skinny, I think you’ll fit this one!” I announce, chuck a black t-shirt at him, and run to dig through my drawers for some jogger pants.

Junmyeon frowns at the graphics on the shirt that read, “Cats are Devil’s Spawn.”

“What are you doing?! Put it on! My dad’s coming up as we speak!” I rush. When the man doesn’t move, I physically go up to him, stretch the jogger pant’s waist band out, and get down on my knees. “Leg up!” I order. Obediently, Junmyeon lets me slip the pants up. I catch a glimpse of his goods by accident and almost choke on my saliva.

Keys start to jiggle at the door. I’m a mess, I jolt up onto my feet and motion for Junmyeon to lift up his arms so I could slip the t-shirt on but he’s stubborn about not wearing the chosen t-shirt. “ARM UP!” I growl. The man with breathtaking boyish looks puff up his cheeks and shake his head.

“KIM JUNMEOW!” I bark, “My father will be right here any moment!”

His lower lip protrudes at the increased volume of my voice.

“Be good…” For some reason, I reach out and pet his head.

“Fine,” Junmyeon murmurs and finally reaches his arms over his head. Instantaneously, I throw the shirt over him and pull. He’s skinny but so ripped, his pecs protrude through the t-shirt.

“YOUNG LADY, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU ARE MARRIED?!” My father barges straight through my bedroom door, disregarding the fact that I’d have to spend a chunk of my paycheck to repair it. But worse of all, my hands are still tangled in between Junmyeon’s abs and the shirt.

Fourth time. I never ever want to hear my full name ever again. Immediately, I jerk my hand away from Junmyeon to cover my ears. On the other hand, my pretend husband is already absorbed into his character. His arms protectively round over my body. The older man scrutinizes him, his nostrils flaring out with invisible fire. Junmyeon spins me around even though the escapist part of me would much rather face plant against his chest.

“Hello, Sir. I am Kim JunMeow,” my pretend husband bows and stretches out a hand to take my father’s. This time, I grab his hand before my shark of a father could sever his limb off. The furious man hisses at my disrespectful actions but can’t disapprove of Junmyeon’s politeness.

“Kim Jun…Meow?” the older man’s response is similar to his wife’s.

“Hah…” I nervously laugh, “He means Kim JunMyeon, Dad. JunMeow is just the pet name I gave him…heh…” I scratch my head and find myself, also, absorbed in my character too. My palm rests against Junmyeon’s abdomen and we stand there like any other normal couple.

“What do you do? And when did you meet me daughter?” the retired sheriff takes a seat on my vanity chair and starts to interrogate.

“I protect your daughter and summer of 1996,” Junmyeon honestly answers, though, at the time, I assume it is a straight out lie. I look at him, impressed with his job well done.

The interrogator narrows his eyes but the shock of Junmyeon’s answers makes him speechless. My mother had detailed to him that I had randomly married a mysterious man she’s never met and it was quite possibly an impulsive or shot gun marriage.

“Are you pregnant?”

“NO!” I instantly answer.

“Young Man, do your parents know you got married?”

“No,” Junmyeon shakes his head. I subtly smack his back to reprimand him for his honesty.

“Why did the two of you get married without your parents' permission?! Huh?!?” My father stomps his feet in rage.

“Because I love her,” my pretend husband shocks me with his response. “I want to protect her. I never met my father and humans separated me from my mother when I was eight weeks old. I’ve never seen her since and quite frankly, I don’t even remember how she looks like.” My heart drops at his confession, I peer up at him almost searching for a hint that would tell me all of this was an act and that he didn’t have to go through such unbearable trauma so early in his life. Because no one deserves such tragedy. And yet, his jaws are tense and eyes grow glossy at the memory.

My father too, softens his strong front at the younger male’s story. “That…that is not an excuse for you not to ask for my permission for my daughter’s hand in marriage, Young Man. You don’t have parents but she does.”

“Dad!” I hiss. I think I’m stupid for having fallen prey to this man’s lies.

“Stay out of this,” the middle-aged man orders, “This is a conversation between men.”

To my father’s words, I cower and lower my head in shame. Yet, to my bewilderment, the normally placid Junmyeon bravely counters, “Why is it a conversation between men, Sir? Aren’t we talking about your daughter and my marriage? She has full right to take part in the conversation.” I inhale sharply. My father jolts up onto his feet and glares at Junmyeon with intimidation for daring to talk back at him. Instinctively, I step in front of my husband and hold my arm out in a protective stance.

In a mature gesture, Junmyeon bows his head and states, “Sir, I admit our marriage was quite impulsive and abrupt. It was my fault for not informing you.”

“Dad…” I murmur a plea, “Please…” Please what… “Do-don’t…” my lips tremble, though I’m not sure why. “Don’t break us apart…” I choke. Both men in the room paralyze with guilt. I lift my hand up to my cheeks and realize I was crying…no…I was sobbing. This sudden rush of emotions is so incomprehensible to me. I don’t understand why…why…but I start choking with tears. An unbearable feeling of having a wound resurface in my heart causes me to clench my chest. Distraught, Junmyeon brings me into his tight embrace, stroking my hair and whispering, “It’s okay” in my ear. Speechless, the older man can only watch as his supposed son-in-law steals away the job once reserved for him.

“Sir, I apologize for everything. I’ll stop by and have this chat with you another time,” Junmyeon promises as he holds me. My sobs only grow and it breaks both of my guardians' hearts. I’m riddled with confusion, myself.

Junmyeon doesn’t let go of me even after my father leaves. Hiccuping, I peel myself away from him and wipe my eyes. “I hic I don’t know what hic is hic going on but you need to hic go!” I direct him to the door. “Let’s pretend that nothing happened between us last night.” Well, technically nothing happened between us…but… Compliantly, he lets me shove him to the front of the door but stands his ground when I tell him to go his merry way.

“I’m not leaving when you are like this,” Junmyeon strictly says. Looking down, I notice even my hands are shaking. What has gotten into me?

Chuckling, I wipe my tears and try to suppress my sobs as best as possible. “I should have majored in Acting, shouldn’t I?” I downplay the incident because I still don’t know why I suddenly burst into tears.

Junmyeon’s gentle expression tells me he doesn’t buy it. “I’ll leave after I know that you’re okay,” he bargains.

I bite my lip and turn away to avoid his enticing gaze. With his brows sinking a bit and lips in a pout, he looks so fluffy and cuddly and I wasn’t sure if I’d hop into his embrace without my own knowledge. Instead, he steps back into the room, stops in front of me, and takes my hand.

“Go,” I say, though my heart tells him to stay. But I learn very quickly that listening my heart is an untrustworthy one-way trip to misery.

“You really want me to go?” Junmyeon softly questions as he kneads my fingers.

“Go.”

I can’t stop the half twitch of my brows when he lets go of my hands. Footsteps grow lighter and lighter, my heart drops when they stop. Calm your thirst, Woman. You barely know him. Frustrated, I tousle my hair. When I look up again, I do a double take. My eyes widen.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” I suck in my breath and almost trip over flat surface.

Junmyeon is stripping out of his clothes. Choking myself from my quick breathing, I rush forward to stop him before he got to his bottoms. My hands outstretch to grab onto his loose waistband but miss it by a jiffy. His perfectly symmetrical butt cheeks stare back at me as he lets the jogging pants fall to the floor.

“AHHH!” I scream and cover my face with my hands. Notice, I said face and not eyes, my fingers part in “V” because my thirst or as Fifty Shades of Grey would describe as “inner goddess” contradict with my outer reserved demeanor. And NO, I didn’t read Fifty Shades of Grey O.o I just saw the movie trailer…but I digress. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, KIM JUNMYEON?!”

With his blank kitten stare, he starts to turn.

“DON’T TURN AROUND!” I shout.

��Hm?” the man innocently explains, “The shirt and pants are yours so I didn’t want to leave with them without your permission.”

“YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION! PLEASE TAKE THEM!” I instantly reply and physically lift the pants back up to cover him. The thought of other woman getting a glimpse of his body angered me for whatever reason I don’t know. Maybe, I’m just hella possessive. Wiping off the sweat from my forehead, I throw my head back in exhaustion. First that cat and now —

“Wait…what happened to…” I scratch my head and scan my premise for any signs of the furry monster.

Junmyeon is finally allowed to turn around.

“Put the shirt back on,” I command as I get down on my knees and look under my sofa for the lost cat.

“I don’t want to,” my pretend husband complains. Running my fingers through my hair, I throw him a displeased look.

“Be good and put back on your shirt, please,” I hear myself say.

“No,” Junmyeon crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. The shirt is an abandoned heap on the floor. For a moment, I mistake it to be the missing cat playing hide and seek and lift it up.

“Argh,” I toss the shirt at the hot stud, who flicks his arm to reject my present. “Argh, you act like Lila’s ungrateful cat!” I groan under my breath. Junmyeon takes a seat at the arm of the sofa and observe me as I almost tear my apartment up in search of the runaway feline.

“I don’t like that shirt, even if I love you,” he grumbles.

I stuck my head out of my laundry basket and ask, “Why?”

“I love cats.”

“Oh my God.” My body collapses onto the floor in disbelief.

Junmyeon suppresses a chuckle at my dramatic reaction. “You used to too…” he whispers but I don’t hear over my own hypothesis about how every one has been hypnotized by freakin’ cats.

“You should just marry Lila. My God, you two would love each other,” I half-heartedly say as I dig through the boxes above my shelves in case the kitty fell asleep there.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you and we’re married now,” he smiles into his reply. I stop the search to look at him. Mistake. Cleaning my throat, I hold a hand up to block my view of his flawlessly sculptured abs.

“You’re really good at acting. Are you an actor?” I probe.

“Nope.”

“Are you…a thief?” I narrow my eyes. Hey, they are good at lying after all.

“Nope,” Junmyeon answers, this time a little amused.

“Then what are you?”

“A cat,” he bluntly answers.

I roll my eyes and throw a sofa pillow at him. He catches it with ease and hugs it against his chest. “You’re such a good liar. You almost had me earlier,” I click my tongue, now pretending to search through my house so that he didn’t know I am actually interested in his response.

“Earlier?”

“Earlier, with my father,” I completely terminate the search and plop myself onto the sofa next to him. Finally, I can look at him without my heart racing in turbulent speeds due to the nifty pillow blocking my eyes from gawking over his lethal bod.

“I was honest with every word I said,” Junmyeon retorts.

Scrutinizing his facial features, I try to hunt for any hints of dishonesty. But his expression is so pure and lovely. Unknowingly, my lips curve up into a friendly smile.

“I will protect you…”

Shaking my head, I laugh.

“…with my life,” he quiets me with his words. It doesn’t make sense but I feel my heart clench.

“…You…you must be an expert at picking up girls…” I remark to distract myself.

“Popular with them but I don’t pick up girls on purpose.”

I scoff and he chuckles. Even his laughter is friendly.

“…So…about your—“ I turn my whole body around and begin to ask but the loud grumble of his stomach halts my curiosity. Junmyeon slaps his tummy.

“Hungry?”

“Hm…” he timidly lowers his head, “A little.”

“Want some ramen?” I offer and chirpily get up to the kitchen to cook brunch.

“Do you have fish?” Junmyeon questions as he follows you.

“Fish? Hm…I think I have some. Do you mind leftovers?” I say while rummaging through my fridge. I close the door a bit when I sense Junmyeon hovering over me. Heh. I’m not the most organize to say the least…especially not the refrigerator.

“Nope. My diet is primarily eating what people throw away anyway…I’m used to it,” he states with such nonchalance that if makes my heart sink a little. Though, I’m uncertain of his identity, a part of me believes his promise that he’d never hurt me.

“I also have chicken breast left, do you want some?” I attempt to dig out the most delicious and presentable dishes a broke ass college student could have.

“Yes!! Fish and chicken breast are my favorite,” the handsome man cheers. Muffling a giggle, I throw all the food onto a plastic container and chuck it into the microwave while I start to prepare the ramen. From his seat, Junmyeon watches me with admiration. He looks like a giddy, fluffy, happy kitty. His invisible tail wags to the sound of the microwave’s beep.

It smells like pure bliss, my tummy flip-flops with anticipation. Steam vaporizes into the air. I turn off the fire and bring the entire pot of ramen onto the kitchen counter. Quickly, I motion for the gullible man to come over. He leaps up onto his feet and joins me at the table.

“Here you go,” I divide the left over tilapia and chicken onto two plates and serve him one. Eyeing his food as if they are bricks of gold, he lifts a hand and gets ready to dig in.

“Wa-wait!” I chime and hand him a fork. “Wow. You must be hungry.”

Smiling, he takes it and starts to chomp away. With a giggle, I take the lid off the pot and fetch myself a bit of ramen. “Hot. Hot!” I squirm and whimper at my scalded tongue. Junmyeon blinks. “Ramen is so delicious but you always have to wait a few minute—“ I start but notice a fork come into my peripheral vision. My new friend had forked a piece of fish and held it up to my lip.

“You…you can eat it,” I shake my head. “I have some of myself,” I explain as my cheeks start to heat up. That was seriously so sweet, knowing that he had offered to share his favorite food. Rubbing my neck, I slurp up the cooled ramen.

“So…” I start.

“Hm?” he looks up from his meal.

“You said what you told my dad was all true…?”

“Yes,” Junmyeon firmly states.

“So about your dad…and mom…” my voice softens in projection as I spot the wavering glint in his pearly orbs.

“Yeah,” he nods.

My heart drops. The thought of a small 8 week old baby being torn from his mother crushes my soul. And I don’t know why and I don’t know when, a tear slips down my cheeks. Yes, I’m overly empathetic, but it still doesn’t quite make sense why I’m suddenly an emotional wreck in the presence of this man. With a sad smile, Junmyeon reaches out his hand and brushes off the tear. I freeze in place.

“You saved me though,” he whispers.

“Huh?” I blink. My sweet fake husband simply gifts me a wide smile of gratitude. Just like a cat, he licks the plate of the last crumbs and sauces. Laughing, I offer him some ramen but he declines them, stating that they aren’t healthy.

“Oh goodness, are you one of those health freaks? Is that why you have such a nice body?” I tease and serve my portion of the fish and chicken breast onto his plate. The kitten boy grins brightly and munches away.

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” I complain.

“I don’t like that shirt,” he replies with a mouthful of food. It makes his chubby cheeks look like that of chipmunks.

“So picky…” I roll my eyes and tap on my phone. A gasp escapes my throat. Junmyeon blinks. “Look, I have to get to class now…um…” The young man’s shoulders droop, realizing it was time for him to take his leave.

I scratch my head. “Wait for me to come back…okay?”

His eyes flicker and flattened lips curve upward. The enthusiastic nod of a reaction causes my heart to flutter. Checking that the gas on the stove were turned off, I gather my textbooks and backpack and head for the door.

With a hand over the doorknob, I playfully question, “You’re not a thief, right?”

“Nope.”

“Okay,” I giggle and swing open the door, “I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll wait for you,” he promises. I throw him back a smile. “Wait, bring an umbrella.”

“The weatherman said it was sunny today,” I note, but he places an umbrella into my hand and squeezes.

My protector watches me as I step through the door before he heads back into the apartment. But I surprise him by popping my head back in. “Kim JunMeow~” I call.

He twirls around with pure bliss upon his face.

“If you don’t like that shirt, feel free to grab another one,” I chuckle.

Can’t concentrate in class. Can’t concentrate.

My friend, Lila, sniffs me. With raised brow, I distance myself. First, my mother sniffs me and now my best friend sniffs me…did I really smell like…

“What does sex smell like?” I pop the question, which causes Lila to choke on her coffee.

“Certainly not like you two,” a popular girl, seated behind us, overhears, and mocks, “You two reek of cat.”

“Oh, shut up,” I bark, roll loose leaf paper into a ball, and launch it at her.

“But…hey…to be honest…you do kinda smell like cat today. Trust me, I would know,” Lila whispers into my ear.

With the toss of my head, I groan, “It was pouring last night so I took home a lost cat.”

A loud gasp shrills from Lila’s lips; she bounces up and down in her seat. “Can I come over?! Can I come over?!?!”

“NO!” I accidentally shout louder than expected.

“Why?” the cat lover slumps.

“The cat isn’t there anymore,” I lie. Well, it isn’t exactly a lie…it’s only that the fact she can’t come over is because I’m hiding a testosterone filled human, who I suspect is a part-time nudist.

As soon as the professor dismisses the class, I pack my bag, wave a fleeting goodbye to my dear friend, and skip happily back home. Raindrops coat my skin; my little feet dances along the puddles. Twirling, twirling, I spin down the streets, in circles. My umbrella sends splashes of rainwater back onto earth like paint on canvas. It doesn’t even occur to me that I’m so over-the-moon until I spot my glowing reflection on a glass building. Kim Junmyeon may be strange but he fills a hole in my heart I never knew existed until today.

“I’m home! Which shirt did you pick out? It better one be one of my Victoria Sec—“ I scan the premise and toss my shoes off. “Kim Junmyeon?” I call, parading through my living room into my kitchen. I open my bedroom door and even checked the bathroom. My heart starts to sink. He said he’d…wait for me…

Just as I am about to slump against my couch, an intruder reveals himself.

“Meow~” the handsome white kitty comes up to my feet and rounds his furry paws around my ankle. His chubby cheeks snuggle against my skin, welcoming me back home.

A/N: Omg this chapter is so long. Junmyeon is so innocent & girl is so thirsty hahaha. Rereading the striping scene made me crack up.

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