#remember when people could only reply to a post if the last sentence ended in a question?

[theetwinkleboy]

question: does aizawa’s quirk work on the emitter of a quirk effect, the person or object under the effect of a quirk, or both? Like, if he looked a compress’ marbles, could he unmarble them, or would it only work if he looked at compress? Or, I guess that also depends on if marbling is a simple state change that doesn’t require further quirk use to maintain, or if it’s an active quirk that compress is maintaining. I wouldn’t think that his quirk would work on anything other than the emitters of the quirk, but I’ve seen lots of fics where Aizawa tries to break a quirk effect by using his quirk on the person under the effect.

Okay. Okay. So say someone is brainwashed by shinsou. In my opinion, Aizawa would only be able to stop the brainwashing if he looked at shinsou, not if he looked at the person he was brainwashing. And I don’t think he would be able to unmarble things even if he did look at compress. Thoughts?

[capseycartwright]

have been tagged in many wip wednesdays and seven sentence sundays the last few weeks i haven’t replied to, so instead here is a tidbit thursday

Eddie Diaz is fourteen years old the first time he thinks he might be gay. He remembers the moment so clearly – he was lying in bed, curled up under the covers, and the thought struck him like lighting – sudden, and seemingly out of nowhere, sending a shock down his spine as he lets the thought wash over him.

He remembers thinking it – Eddie doesn’t quite remember why the thought came to him, though. He thinks maybe it was because Carson from his third period math class got a girlfriend – Emily, who played soccer for their school team - and had proudly boasted to everyone before the bell rang that he’d kissed her for five whole minutes and Eddie was sort of confused as to why you’d want to do that when he’d much rather see what it was like to kiss Carson, and –

Oh.

Fourteen-year-old Eddie didn’t know a lot of gay people. He knew they existed, in a mythical sort of way, like Sophia was convinced unicorns did, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever actually met a real-life gay person. He’d only ever heard about them – from movies, and television shows, and the way his parents murmured in quiet voices about what a shame it was that Mrs. Garcia’s daughter, the one who had moved to New York for college, was a lesbian now – she’d have found a good husband if she wasn’t that way inclined, his mother had lamented, and his father had nodded his stoic agreement, offering his hope that Isabella Garcia would change her mind and settle down with a good man, in the end.

People were gay, Eddie knew – but at fourteen, he had the distinct impression that he wasn’t supposed to be one of them. Ramon Diaz had old-fashioned ideas about who his son was supposed to be – the only Diaz boy in a house of girls, Eddie’s job was to be the man of the house when Ramon would travel. Eddie was supposed to be strong-willed, and he was supposed to keep his emotions to himself, and he was supposed to be a man. Never mind that he was still a child – Eddie was supposed to be a man, and the kind of man his father expected him to be, wasn’t a gay one.

Eddie was fourteen when he wondered if he could be gay, and he was fourteen when he took that thought and buried it as deeply as he could.

tagging @clusterbuck @hattalove @doeeyeseddie @thatbuddie @mellaithwen @sibylsleaves @henswilsons @littlespoonevan @roy-kents and anyone else who wants an excuse to post a wee bit of fic!

[dreambunnynotes]

daily reflection: nov. 16th ❤︎

good morning lovely friends! here is what i accomplished and what i could have improved today, to hold myself accountable. it was really effective for me to know that i had posted my goals list on tumblr yesterday where others could see it; whenever i felt like giving in to my adhd brain that tells me that tasks are to be feared, i would simply remember that i had kind folks online who were interested in seeing me succeed hehe, it helped me so much! here is my first day ❤︎

accomplishments:

i completed all of my cleaning goals and more! it turned into a deeper clean than i thought it would be which felt really nice (and is usually how it goes once i get cleaning). it's so lovely to be able to start fresh with a clean working and sleeping space; it's so much easier to feel inspired, be productive, and take care of yourself when your environment is as ready for you as you are for it!

i wasn't going to complete all of my texting and calling tasks, BUT I DID! these types of tasks are the hardest for me to get done because i have pretty intense social anxiety and rejection sensitive dysphoria, and communicating with others both online and offline takes a lot of mental preparation and energy for me. but i did it, and i am so, so proud of myself! in fact...

self-compassion:

not only did i accomplish my original communication goals, i also ended up replying to two friends i hadn't seen in a long time, even though i was anxious! both of them were at my sister's show last night and i was so surprised to see them and a couple of other friends that i had to go have a bathroom cry from the anxiety lol. i had so many emotions coming up; the first was sadness and shame seeing that they had all come in a group together and that i wasn't with them. i joined them two seconds after i saw everyone, but the sadness was still there because i was positive they would have invited me into the group earlier if i had been less isolated this last year, which is where the guilt came in. i realized i had been isolating from my friends for so long out of fear that i wasn't wanted, didn't provide anything to them, and that maybe i didn't have people i liked being around after all, but that is so, so far from the truth; i do have friends who love me and who i love, and all of them were so loving, so kind, and actually sent me messages after the show telling me how much they loved me and how happy they were to see me! it made me cryyyy and feel so many feelings. i have plans to see them next week, and i actually feel like i'm overcoming my isolation era at long last; i'm really proud of myself for having self-compassion and using tools i've learned in therapy to better my life! :')

my next step is to learn more about and overcome this shame i have around letting my friends love me for who i am; the only way to learn more about it is to actually make plans to see friends and be vulnerable; wish me luck 😭💗

improvements to make:

as for my other tasks; i cleaned out one of my emails, but i have so many email accounts that it felt a little bit lacklustre to call that an accomplishment. today i'd like to break down how big the task of consolidating my digital life will actually be so that i can take measurable and consistent steps towards completing my goal (writing that sentence is baffling me right now - bunny from a few days ago never would have realized how much writing out her goals could help her in being less afraid of them! this feels like a huge accomplishment for my adhd brain!)

today felt like a really successful day, and i'm super proud of myself! this was only the beginning of what i actually want to accomplish in a day, but it was such a great way to try it out. i'm excited to see where this journey takes me and how these daily checklists and reflections will affect my productivity; they already have helped so much! if you've made it to the end of this, thank you for taking the time to read about my day, it means so much to me! lets try our best to have another successful day! ❤︎

[hot-take-tournament]

ngl kind of breaks my heart to see you used one of those ai bot things after the entire vocaloid debate. i really don't like that you did that and i'm a little disappointed. can you please not do that again?

I know - I do need to address this before anything else, because I fucked up

Please read the whole thing

If any of you don't know the context of this ask;

Basically, a while back I used the program AI Dungeon to generate a hot take for fun;

That's the program they use for those chaotic AI videos you find on youtube, like the ai ace attorney clown case and the sonic destruction scripts, which has some absolutely wild moments like these

I just put in a couple one-sentence questions to see what it would give me, not really expecting anything. But the take it did finally give me was not only completely depraved, but also felt like such a weirdly personal attack on me specifically that it left me genuinely speechless.

So, even though I didn't originally intend to do this, I decided to secretly make a poll for it claiming it was a submission, because I thought it might be fun to see if you guys could guess which one of the polls was the fake one, Blade Runner style.

I generated the take on the same day that submissions originally closed, but I only came clean about it last night because I started to feel super guilty about it after reading the vocaloid discourse - but the way I did it was vague, shitty and insincere.

I know it was 4 in the morning and I said I was going to get some sleep when I made the post last night, but after I saw the asks I immediately got about that post - like this one - I instead deleted it after like 2 minutes and spent the next 4-5 hours scouring the internet for as much information about this as I could find so I could get the full picture. This isn't the first time I fucked up on this blog because I didn't do my research, so I think I massively overcompensated - I really didn't want a repeat of that time the master post accidentally triggered multiple people's OCD; I still feel awful about that.

And as a result, I ended up passing out on my bathroom floor, which is why you haven't heard from me in a while.

I did genuinely read all the vocaloid discourse (asks, replies, notes, all of it) - but since I pulled this stunt ages ago, and the secret poll is already up, it was already too late. And it was because of that vocaloid discourse that I felt like it would just make me a hypocrite if I just swept it under the rug and kept quiet while everyone else was talking about the exact same subject, so I decided to just tell you guys as soon as possible because I'd feel shitty if I didn't - but I still phrased that post in a more light-hearted way because that was what I originally intended this whole thing to be, which was definitely a mistake, and I can't apologise enough for that.

And I know I didn't clarify this in that original post, but like I said, the program I used was AI Dungeon, which was something I remembered having fun with back in 2019/2020, spending hours generating unhinged Ace Attorney cases; and I remembered I still had an account from back then when it was still free to play, even though I hadn't touched it in 4 years - and I realised I would still be able to bypass the paywall using it.

I'd also just watched those snapcube Sonic Destruction videos that I linked above and it reminded me of that. And I dug up those old AI Dungeon Ace Attorney cases that I had generated and then recreated in objection i.o. back when I was 17/18, and had been sitting on my old computer's hard drive for ever since - and they still made me smile a little. So that's how I got the impulse to do this.

And that's also why, even though I knew about the writer's strike and do fully support it, it just didn't occur to me that the AI that gave us that same insane Sonic Destruction script that I'd just watched would be one of the programs the writers were striking over - I just assumed that it was only programs like ChatGPT, that can produce coherent scripts based on the accumulated information users feed into it; because those are programs that could definitely potentially be used to replace human writers. That's something AI Dungeon can't do, because it doesn't retain user input after you shut it down.

So I just saw AI Dungeon as that goofy ass confused AI that I loved as a kid, the one that provides insanely weird responses out of the blue as it desperately tries to cobble together a narrative, and it was used in videos that I still really like. And I thought it would be fine.

That was how I justified it at the time - but in hindsight, given how much I hate other GPT programs like ChatGPT, as well as AI art and all other generated content overall, it just makes me even more of a stupid hypocrite for making an exception for this one simply because I was blinded by nostalgia, and not bothering to look it up back then like I should've done. Because at the end of the day, a GPT program is a GPT program.

SO - Here's what I found online while reading up on it last night:

Because of the outdated GPT model AI Dungeon runs on, it isn't possible from a technical standpoint for it to learn like ChatGPT does. Even though it still uses a dataset, as far as I can tell it genuinely can't add to that dataset from user input except for when it explicitly asks for feedback (rarely, it will generate two responses instead of one, and ask you to pick the best one so it can learn - but you can turn that feature off.) And while it does try to learn while you're using it, it can't carry that information over between sessions. So even if you reload the same page again, it won't retain what it learned last time.

(Here's some information I found while combing ancient reddit threads that explains this better than I can)

But even if all of that is true, it doesn't matter.

Latitude, the developers of AI Dungeon, are super fucking scummy, and you shouldn't support them.

If you want to look up all of the many, many controversies surrounding AI Dungeon, you can - but I won't link them here, because serious content warnings apply.

Do not use this program.

I really hope the anon who sent this ask - and everyone else who called me out on this - stuck around, because I am so, so grateful that you all sent these, otherwise I probably would never have known.

I deleted the post almost instantly (because like I said, it was too light-hearted), and I'm really glad I did. And I swear I won't pull this shit again.

I know a lot of you hate the fact that I did this - that original post genuinely got me blocked by more of you guys than every single one of the polls combined - which is totally fair, and I wouldn't blame any of you for doing the same now.

I really just want to move on from this - but I can't just pretend that it didn't happen.

Support the writer's strike, don't use any AI programs.

I'm really sorry about this, and the fact that I didn't take it seriously enough - like I said, I promise it won't happen again.

</3

[httpiastri]

i’ll keep this short because i feel like you might be getting tired of my really really long long asks and also because my heart still aches from yesterday so im not feeling v talkative so

- you made a type in pepe’s name and you made him pee and idk i found it funny okay 😭😭 and its ironic because as i was typing this i made the same typo too

- def trust your intuition!! i’m literally just a teenage girl but there’s been instances where trusting my gut feeling has lead me out and away from really danger or at least warned me enough about it so i could mentally prepare for it

- and i also agree that there doesn’t have to be many coincidences for it to mean something!! sometimes just one coincidence is enough because of the timing and nature of the way it even came about yk?

- i was kinda raised with the beliefs of two religions…? if that makes sense, of course. but even when one religion contrasted the idea of fate and destiny i think it’s something younger me could never shake off and no amount of lessons could ever change that belief in me, and idk but pepe’s season so far kinda made me religious again (this sounds so stupid i’m so sorry 😭😭) but like i do believe in fate and destiny but also in manifestation (which basically means we choose and create our path in life) but rn i’m believing in fate and that there is a reason why his luck (and i say luck and not season, because he is a very talented driver, and the only thing that has been messing him up is his luck) is so awful rn, and that he will shine on the top step of the podium again. he won in barcelona last year, and did the so so good in all barcelona testing’s this year, so even if monaco messes up his race again (which i pray does not happen), barcelona will take good care of her golden child, pepe.

- i realise ive rambled too much again 😕😕

- but yeah omg one of my biggest questions when i was child was why i was put on this world at this exact time and this location because like?? i was always a very emotional child but i was always grateful to be surrounded by so many lovely people, even when i was being bullied in school or whatever. but i also used to feel guilty because why me? when there are others in the world suffering, why did i get the better life, but i think that’s a bit too much for rn.

- also i think paul’s cockiness isn’t too surprising, i think in circumstances where he’s doing really well after two very important teams didn’t stick by him, it’s understandable that he would be acting that way but some of the things he says just makes me go a bit 😦😦 like the wonder kid comment and yesterday’s comment

- but yes i tried to keep it short but i really hope pepe gets his chance to do well again, and i hope its a win, because you mentioned patterns with maiden wins and yesterday my feed decided to just fill itself with pepe posts and i saw one from you from last year: https://www.tumblr.com/httpiastri/732051888669917184 and in the tags you said he had such a good start to the season but then got unlucky and i just looked back at last year’s race results and his dnfs at the end of season were so horrible too BUT he also did end up with 3 wins that season so maybe its like a sandwich pattern thing… where he did well at the start last year, got unlucky at the end of season, got unlucky again (minus his first race podium) and then becomes supremely lucky again at the middle to end of this season

idk im so tired and upset rn and another word i don’t know in english but i hope your week gets better as it goes by!! monaco is just this week so in a few days time, this won’t be the most recent pepe race that we remember, and hopefully by then his luck has changed so the most recent pepe week we remember is an amazing one (i hope that sentence made sense because my brain’s been lagging a bit recently) but yes, thank you for taking the time to reply to my v long asks, and i hope i haven’t been stressing you out with these asks because i really don’t want you to feel pressured to always type out a really long reply to mine— but anyway, have a lovely day ahead, and an even better tomorrow!!💗💗

p.s. thank you for writing about pepe snapping at you and giving you the silent treatment and accidentally making you cry because i imagined the exact same thing yesterday and now it’s in written form so i’m def not going crazy 😵‍💫😵‍💫 but i think id feel guilty if i cried and he had to comfort me because he’s been the one with the horrible luck these past few months?? not me?? but i think it could lead to some really sweet bonding where i give him one of my good luck charms which lead him to win or at least score a podium finish in his next race so

oops i rambled again im so sorry 😭😭😭

- 🪷

?!?! i would NEVER get tired of your messages wth???????? theyre the highlights of my day honestly 😭 im so sorry for being late to answer sometimes but ive been so extremely tired these last few weeks…. i promise to get better 💔 but please never feel like you have to make a message short or like you can't send this or that!!!!!!!!

i looooved reading the pee part of this message because i was like "😭😭 r u gonna realize why i wrote that maybe…." 😭😭😭😭😭😭 and then seeing these messages made me laugh out loud aaaa

i have decided to trust my intuition more bcs of you !!! it will be interesting where it takes me even if it's abt smaller things :)

don't say it's stupid, i think it makes sense!!! personally i feel like life is a good mix of all of those and while i do think you can choose a lot of what happens to you, i guess i believe that not everything can be changed because some things are more fate-y. but i do believe that everything will work out in the end and even if things don't go how you intend them to (/what you manifest), you'll get the right results in the end as long as you have the right mindset & so on? if that makes sense?? im also a believer in karma so like if you do good things then good things will definitely happen to you. so i 100% agree abt pepe and the fate thing, it doesn't matter if he has a few tough races because he's a good driver and deserves to do well, so if he just keeps fighting and doesn't give up then he will be rewarded in the end 🥺 oh i will be so so so happy if he gets that home race win again, it would truly be the highlight of my year 😭 but i have a good feeling about monaco again !!!!

yesss i feel the exact same way, i feel so insanely lucky to have grown up in this country, in this family, with all of these opportunities and all of the good stuff around me.... i think that a lot of stuff i do today also are very deeply connected to things i felt in my childhood? in a way that i feel like i've had like revelations abt stuff????? like i went through a rlly hard time with my family when i was like 10 and i really didn't wanna go to practice, but the second i met my friends and started playing i was just like "aH this sport has the ability of erasing all of my issues?? sign me the f up" and so 12 years later, ive dedicated my whole life to it..... idk if you get what i mean but i have so many other examples but 😭 but yes i totally get the guilty feeling, esp when im not doing what i should be or like using the opportunities ive been given. the fact that im allowed to go to school, which btw is for free (!!!!), and yet i don't find the energy to study? when people all over the world would kill to learn how to read?? and so on

oh yes 100%, i love the cockiness tbh, it's well-deserved. just like i love pepe's attitude too 🥰

yes yes yes it definitely could be!!!! fingers crossed for a good middle of the season 🥺 also so silly that i wrote abt spa because i was like sooo torn in spa 😭 because obvs i love him (wasn't as obsessed as i am rn tho) but i was so shocked at how he didn't get any kind of penalty (or did i forget abt that?...)...... yes it was probs the team's fault but still 😵

you put it very well, this weekend will be amazing and definitely one to remember <3333 thank you for taking the time to send me these long asks love!!! you definitely have not been stressing me out, i love love reading them and i do not feel pressured. i hope you're having a lovely week s far and that it gets better and better for the weekend !!!!!💗

awwww darling im definitely not going crazy too...... i love his soft side but i also like him showing a bit of emotion yk?? and yes pls like "no don't say you're sorry, im sorry that i haven't supported you enough for a win" 🥺 good luck charms thoooo....... my heart is melting 😭

yet again, shuuuush i don't wanna hear u saying u rambled too much!! you didn't ramble enough, i want twice this much next time!!!!!!! (pls don't feel pressured to write if you don't want to shdjfkhd i just love hearing from you 🥺 no matter if its short or long)(though i prefer long 🥰)

[doctorgeekery]

20 Questions For Writers

Thanks for the tag @sinvulkt!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

I have 7 works.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

60,129. Wow, a lot more than I thought, especially since I am terrible about posting things I write.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Looking at my official statistics, apparently I have written the most for Marvel (4). Most of those are marvel crossovers with some sort.

However, Marvel is definitely NOT what I have written for the most. Back in middle school and high school, I wrote a lot of Harry Potter fanfiction and posted it on harrypotterfanfiction.com back when that still existed. I wrote two novel-length stories in addition to one-shots. If I were to add those to my AO3 stats, things would be very different.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

1. It's Nice Being an Avenger (2,331 kudos)

2. The Dark Knight and Gotham’s Prince: Our Sweethearts (1,070 kudos)

3. Just Call Me Lucifer, Love (778 Kudos)

4. Avenging with the Nine-Nine (475 Kudos)

5. Melting the Ice (78 Kudos)

The number one fic is a crossover of Netflix's Daredevil and the MCU Avengers. It wasn't too popular for about two years after I wrote it, but then after Charlie Cox as Matt Murdock/Daredevil appeared in Spider-Man: No Way Home, the popularity skyrocketed. I got at least ten kudos every day for about two months after that movie.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I do not get them terribly often so I try to remember to reply to all of them. Some of them I might forget to reply to and wait until a few months later, though.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I tend to usually post-humorous fic to AO3, so of what I have posted, the angstiest fic is probably "Harklin", which is set in the Star Wars High Republic. I usually end on a positive note. The darkest fic I've written - one I wrote in high school in which the main character committed suicide - had a somewhat uplifting last few sentences as the main character only committed suicide so she could be with the ghost she fell in love with.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings. "The Dark Knight and Gotham’s Prince: Our Sweethearts" is probably one of the happiest, though - I had a few commenters gushing about the happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on your fic?

Nope! I am glad. Sometimes people will point out minor corrections/mistakes, but that's not hate. And I'm glad they do it, because then I go back and fix it.

9. Do you write smut?

No. I read it sometimes, but I have no desire to write it.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes, I have a few crossovers posted - most notably the Marvel/Lucifer TV crossover and the Marvel/Brooklyn-99 crossover. It is interesting, since I rarely read crossovers, but I love to write them.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so? Never checked, but nobody has told me that it has been, soooooo.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Just hit this milestone a few years ago! Someone asked me if they could translate "The Dark Knight and Gotham’s Prince: Our Sweethearts" into Chinese, I said yes, and it is now posted as a translation of my fic. HUGE honor - the day it was posted I was grinning so much.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Yes, I co-wrote a one-shot once back when I was writing on harrypotterfanfiction.com. I literally just looked it up on wayback machine because I don't remember it well (looks like I published it in 2014), but it was for a challenge/competition thing with another randomly assigned author. We got along quite well and had a lot of fun!

14. What‘s your all-time favourite ship?

When reading fanfiction, I tend to not read a lot of romance, and I don't write a lot of romance, either. I don't have a "this is 100% my favorite ship" that I am sure about, but the first one that popped into my brain when reading that question is Supercorp.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

"Avenging with the 99" - essentially, the cast of Brooklyn 99 teams up with some Avengers for their annual Halloween Heist. There's so much pranking and a lot of fun, but a) after a certain point, I struggled with where to take it and b) I know at one point I planned who was going to win... but it's been so long that I have forgotten.

In middle and high school, I planned out an entire seven book series for Albus Potter, Harry Potter's son. I completed the first two books (something I will always be proud of) and started writing the third while I was still editing the second book, but then I quit. I had outlines of plans for all seven of the books, which I know I still have somewhere. At this point, it has been so many years and I have fallen out with the Harry Potter fandom completely, so I know I will never go back to it.

16. What’s your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I love to write dialogue, as it comes so naturally to me. Easiest part of writing, by far.

17. What’s your writing weaknesses?

One, I hardly ever write. Most things I write I don't complete. But when it comes to writing itself, I am AWFUL at description. I can't describe locations, people, etc. If you see a fic of mine with a lot of description, know that it took me a painfully long time. Often when writing a first draft of something, I will say [insert description of place here later] because trying to describe things ruins my flow.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I have never done it, but I don't see why not. I think it depends how much - a few short phrases here or there would be awesome, but I don't think all of the dialogue should be in a different language than the rest of the fic.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Honestly, "The Dark Knight and Gotham’s Prince: Our Sweethearts" is one of my favorites to go back and re-read. I still laugh when I re-read it.

I will always be proud of the first fic I ever wrote, simply because it was novel-length (75K words) and I did an excellent job for a 13-15 year old. I would never want to re-read it now, though - I will probably cringe at it.

As for tagging... uh, I think @sinvulkt already tagged most people from our Star Wars discord, so I shall change fandoms and tag @starsandstormyseas. I will also tag @chaosgoblinhours because I love their Gutterworks series.

[soobskies]

Hi :> I'm still new to tumblr so idk how to use it but for now I'll post a soobinxreader story

You were always labelled as the nerd kid in your expensive school, who only got in with a scholarship. Soobin on the other hand was known for being the rich and cool kid who has atleast 10 dates a day and also the principals son.

Your first impression of him was a mean jerk since he always had a bunch of girls around him always acted like a brat towards everyone even the teachers knowing he could get away with everything since his dad was the principal and just show his puppy dog eyes at him.

At lunch time soobin was hanging out with his friend group until taehyun suggested an idea to make a bet with soobin "If y/n falls for you in a month you get 10k from each of us" Since Soobin had alot of pride said "I could do it in a few days." sarcastically.

While you were studying for your upcoming test in the library an unexpected visitor came in, when he came closer to you you thought he was going to talk to the pretty girl behind you and went back to reading your book. Then suddenly you heard someone pulling out a chair infront of you, it was Soobin. "Would you like to-" before he even finished his sentence you replied with a cold "No." "But I was saying-" "I'm not interested"

"Why not" he asked "I don't even need to explain how you're always not up to anything good" you said while proceeding to read your book. He kept tugging on your shirt and just sat there until he knew you wouldn't even budge.

The next day in the cafeteria yeonjun asked "How is it going? With you and y/n?" "She didn't even let me finish my sentence!" Soobin said, scoffing.

At the end of history class, he came by to your seat, attempting to ask you again. This time you don't interrupt. "Would you like to go out with me?" he said softly. Remembering the times when he used to bully you, you said "No" He asked "Why?" You simply just said "Attitude, try to change a bit" "If I change would you agree to go out with me?" You teasingly said "Maybe"

After a few days, you notice some things changing about soobin. How he refuses to go out with some girls, tries to be nicer to the people around him. One time he even helped arrange the books in the library, you found him so sweet but then remembered it was all for you to go out with him.

It's been a few weeks since he last asked you that question, until he finally asked again. You thought hard about it then said " Why not?" His face lit up with excitement hearing those words come out of your mouth. Accidentally pulling you in a hug, you didn't want to pull away, you liked his presence.

He planned a movie date with you. It was a horror movie and you were easily scared. Gripping into his shirt, holding his hand and trying to hide your face with the box of popcorn. He found you really cute that way, so mesmerizing to look at. "Y/n" he slowly whispered your name "What is it?" "I love you" then pulled you close to him.

After the movie ended you went to a cafe and got some coffee, , sitting on the table you couldn't stop noticing how soobin keeps looking at you every now and then.

When he drove you home he kissed you on the lips infront of your door, his lips were so soft and you could still taste the chocolate drink he had earlier. You waved goodbye to him and you just couldn't sleep after that. All you had in mind was S O O B I N

The next day at school you and soobin were inseparable. You both were having a great time until his friends showed up. "So you finally got her to fall for you? Here's your 40k" Taehyun said loud enough for you to hear. "What is this all about?" Soobin tried to stop taehyun but he said " It was all a bet" Those words shattered your heart to pieces and you run to the bathroom. Tears falling for your eyes, thinking about the good times you had with soobin, it was all... Fake.

The next few days soobin wouldn't stop trying to call, text and explain to you. You wouldn't give in, promised to yourself that you will never fall for anyone again. After you avoided him, soobin never dated anyone else in the meanwhile. He was determined to explain to you.

He went to the library where he knew you would be there. And of course, as soon as you saw him you were already getting out of your chair, soobin held your hand just before you were about to leave. "Please, just let me explain" You were silent, wanting to give him a chance to speak up. "Yeah, it was all a bet at first but when I started changing my attitude, I learnt that being nice and kind was better than being a jerk like in the past, in that moment I fell for you, wanting you in my presence. I wanted to tell you about the bet but I was afraid that you will hate me, please forgive me." he said, tears almost falling from his eyes. You couldn't help but melt from his words. "How about we start again?" you said. Both of you walked out of the library, holding hands.

[mosviqu]

IT PISSES ME OFF SO MUCH AND I HATE ALL OF THE THINGS I GOT TO KNOW ABOUT THIS ERA THEIR HARD WORK IS NOT APPRECIATED ENOUGH WAHHH

i didn't even have the motivation to check out the last song from them ngl💔💔very sad about them but maybe i will like it after watching music shows lmao i wont give up (fully) on the 03liners💔 WAITTTT TRUE HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT INTAK WHAT THE HECK I WAS SO HAPPY ABOUT HIM (and same i saw that they are having a cb and i was like:o i forgot about u guys:o) AN AMAZING CREW!!!! also would selfishly add enhypen sunoo he is a lovely 03 liner as well🥹 (idk know mcnd☹️☹️ i heard like 2-3 of their songs but i never checked them out☹️ BUT IM HAPPY THERE IS AN 03 LINER IN THERE!!!)

IT IS IMPORTANT BUT IM STILL NOT SURE IF ITS 100% TRUE😭 i love keeho so much like that was the point where i was like yeah u are going to be my fav from here!! seeing the screenshots of it still makes me laugh so much

i can imagine that😭 my sister was in the exact same situation as u💀

IT WAS!!!! dino is lovely and i would love to see u being his body guard ngl🤣 I DONT UNDERSTAND WHY THEY DIDNT DO IT💔💔just such a big heartbreak💔💔ALSO TALKING ABOUT TREASURE DID U HEAR THE SNIPPET HE POSTED OF A SONG??? it sounds very great imo

I CAN SO RELATE TO THAT!!! english is so hard without english classes i never realized that till now💔 i only talk in english with my sister but it's a mess i even just struggle to put together sentences now😭 writing my replies takes so much brain cells from me so i always just pray that u will get what i'm trying to say even if it's not correct lmao🥸 RECORDING VLOGS IS SO MUCH FUN!! i did it for a while and it was so amazing so i recommend it only sent them to my bestie but it was actually so funny😭 THE BRITISH PEOPLE GOT US REAL HARD💔

(AHHH THANK U SO MUCH;-; I APPRECIATE IT!!! HANBIN!!! I HOPE U WILL HAVE MORE MOMENTS OVER HIM LMAO HE IS VERY GREAT😌 although be careful with asking me about zbone members cuz idk three of them;-; but working on it🤞 and u can tag me or message me ofc i dont mind🥹💕) (liebestraum anon🥳💕)

LITERALLYYYY i saw a tiktok where it compared all the other dances where its a member x woman (ten or baek) and it said "so this is okay, but this isnt?" showing enha and the comments were like "we are the problem" LMAO so at least they are self-aware.

no because i was really disappointed too >:(( but the title track still slaps i said what i said. watched them perform it too and they have cute bubbly vibes i am heartbroken for the lack of interest from my side. NO BC WHEN I STARTED BIASING INTAK AND REALISED HE WAS A 03 LINER I HAD A MENTAL BREAKDOWN. ((still am a jiung girlie at heart tho). i am really excited for their cb tho it sounds amazing!!! HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT SUNOO WHAT THE FUCK AAAAAAAAAA IM SO SORRY he's my fav 03 liner. ((there are actually 2 03 liners in mcnd but i forgot the other one LMAO i honestly cant remember their names anymore but i had a very short mcnd phase lol. all i know is that i'd die for minjae thats all)

i would honestly be a good bodyguard bc i have a lot of rage in me. like i could fully fight someone if i was mad enough LMAOO. everything for dino baby <3 I DID SEE THE SNIPPET I LOST MY SHIT LOWKEY HIGHKEY I AM SO EXCITED AAAAAAA

i mean english isnt really hard for me if we are talking abt writing and stuff but speaking out loud is more difficult if you don't regularly do it >:( dont worry we are on the same wavelength i always know what u mean w your replies AHAH sometimes i speak in eng w my roommate bc she is an english major (she only picked the major bc of me and then i ended up doing psychology so i owe her this bc her english isnt as good as mine) I USED TO RECORD VLOGS W MY BROTHER but we never posted them thank god. i'm still down to do it honestly its so fun LMAO

hanbin.......i looked up his name on tiktok once and now my fyp is filled with him and im so in love he's so cute and adorable and sweet like i saw clips of ppl giving him letters and how much he loves getting them and even asked if anyone has letters for him please zb1 fans give him letters!!!!!! no bc i only know ricky, hanbin, zhang hao and matthew :,) but the more i see them on my fyp the more i am convinced to stan once they debut like i legit debated on watching boys planet yesterday bc i lowkey like survival shows but when i found out the eps are 2 hours long i decided to just....not...do that...

also a small update on the tbz recs i did some progress and i really liked diamond life and survive the night :p i have like 11 songs left from the ones u recommended LMAO but yeah i loved those two

[theshelbyclan]

Baby Outlaw

Summary: Natasha has found out about another little girl who managed to escape the Red Room and she’s put Yelena onto it. But you escaped over a year ago and have no intention of being found (Part 1)

A/N: Here we go: my first not-Peaky fanfic on this blog. I started writing this one a while back and I’ve written a few more parts already, but I just wanna see first if anyone is interested in this one. Also, I wrote this one with an OC originally, but decided to post it as a reader insert, because people on here prefer those usually. Anyways, let me know what you think and whether you’d like to read more!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Words: 3228

*****

“Yelena.”

“Hi! Are you calling me from your superhero friends’ headquarters? Are they with you now? How is the god from space doing? Tell them I said ‘hi’!” She excitedly answered the phone, only to suddenly change her tone, “Wait, what is wrong with you? You sound so serious.”

Natasha was serious, “I need you to track someone down.”

“I am,” her younger sister still didn’t quite understand, “You gave me the file with all the girls, remember? I’ve been tracking them all down for the last months.”

“I know, I’ve heard.” Still there was the urgency in her sister’s voice and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yelena. “This one is special.”

“They all are.” To Yelena, this was a matter of principle; from faceless weapons they were now free women, all important and valued. Still she understood, “Special why?”

Natasha sighed on the other end of the line, “Do you remember everything Dreykov did after I managed to get out?” She tried to hide the guilt from her voice as much as she could, but didn’t quite manage it.

“Of course. The security got much stricter, punishments harder, and the chemical subjugation. No one escaped after that.”

“Well, someone did,” Natasha said sharply. “Another girl managed to get away, only a year ago. She escaped from the woods, when they were training her. During the blind dropping.”

Yelena remember that part of their training well. The young girls were dropped in the middle of the woods during the freezing winter and had to get back on their own. It had taken her days to do it. A lot of girls never came back. “But wait, that means she’s only small...” she wondered out loud.

“I think she’s twelve now, thirteen maybe?”

“How did she get away? The tracker...”

“She cut it out of her leg,” Natasha finished her sentence for her. “This must’ve been before they did the operation on her.”

“Umnaya devochka...” Yelena mused with some admiration in her voice.

“She won’t be in your files.”

“I can find her,” Yelena said confidently, “if you can tell me where she was last seen?”

“St. Petersburg,” Natasha was obviously rummaging through some files on the other end, “but that was almost a year ago.”

Yelena nodded and was quiet for a little while. Then she wondered, “Why is she special? To you. There were so many little girls. We all were little girls once.”

Her sister didn’t reply straight away and when she did, some emotion slipped into her voice, “She doesn’t have anyone. I checked. Dreykov killed her whole family. And she managed to get away, just her, but now she has nowhere to go and no one to go to. I think she deserves someone looking out for her for once.”

“I think so too. I will look out for her,” Yelena answered decidedly, “I will find her.”

Natasha felt a certain relief wash over her. She knew Yelena would understand. After all, if she didn’t, who would?

*****

Six weeks later, Yelena was staying in a small apartment somewhere in Camden Town in London. It had taken her quite a while to track down the little girl who somehow had slipped through Dreykov’s fingers. She’d survived the Red Room and found a way to use it to her advantage. Yelena decided that as soon as she’d found the girl, she would have to ask her a lot of questions on how she did it.

But the kid was slippery, as Natasha would say. In the last month, she’d moved cities twice and changed the name she went by four times. In St. Petersburg, they called her ‘Anya’ at one of the shelters where she sometimes went for food. In Berlin, the homeless kids mentioned a girl named ‘Lisa’ that fit her description. In Paris, she’d dyed her hair, clever girl, and went by ‘Cleo’ and then ‘Lilian’. Finally, Yelena tracked her to London, where she heard rumours of a ‘Maisie’ living rough, which was funny to Yelena, because that name did not suit her at all. She felt like she knew the girl already. 

But the trail kept going cold. Yelena was constantly chasing shadows and rumours, never catching actual sight of her. Until London. Up until a few days ago, the former assassin had spend days gathering information and had gotten a recent description. And then, when she wasn’t even really looking for her, she’d seen a kid on the streets. It was only a glance but Yelena knew it was her.

“Hehe, there you are, you little fish,” Yelena whispered to herself, as she observed a child that had gotten so good at not attracting any attention to herself, that Yelena noticed at once. Right now, she was walking around the farmers market in Islington and she’d already managed to nick two apples, some chocolate and some more chocolate, a can of coke and a loaf of bread. All the food disappeared into her seemingly endless pockets. Yelena smirked at the sight.

“Well, that explains one thing,” she told the little hooded figure from far away, “how you managed to survive the Red Room’s starvation techniques. Let’s see what you do next, rybochka.״

But as Yelena made her way to follow the girl who had just rounded a corner, she saw that she had vanished. “Shit,” she hissed and cursed herself internally for being spotted. Quickly, she started running until she caught a glimpse of the blue raincoat the girl was wearing. Fast a lighting, she darted through the crowds and Yelena had the hardest time keeping up with her. Through the streets she chased her, waiting for her to slip up somehow, but she never did. Nimbly, the girl suddenly sprinted into a narrow little street and Yelena almost ran by it. At the end, she jumped over a few cars and crossed the road, while Yelena had to wait for them to pass before she could follow. She was losing her, a twelve-year-old girl, and it bothered her immeasurably.

“Oh, come on!” the blonde called out, as the kid suddenly did a double take and disappeared into the crowds again. Full of frustration, Yelena shoved people aside left and right to her. And then, pure luck, she recognised the raincoat right in front of her. She grabbed it tightly and tried to tackle the girl to the ground, though carefully, very much aware that this was just a child. However, this child had received years of training in one of the most severe facilities on earth and as soon as she felt Yelena’s tightened grip on her shoulder, she spun around, ducked and flipped her assailant over her shoulder.

With an “oooff” filled with surprise and embarrassment, Yelena hit the pavement. “Seriously?” she muttered and in that moment, she locked eyes with the strange girl. It was like the world stopped for a few seconds. Yelena recognised both the fear and the resolution in the other’s eyes. She opened her mouth to say something to calm her down, but as she moved to get up, the girl kicked sand from the streets into her eyes. Spluttering, the assassin wiped her face and lost sight of the girl. When she pushed herself up, she was gone.

Cursing loudly in Russian, Yelena attracted quite a bit of attention on the crowded streets. She huffed with irritation and walked away. Then she took out her phone and called her sister.

“Did you find her yet?” Natasha answered by way of greeting.

“I lost her.”

“Again?” she sighed, “She’s only twelve, Yelena.”

Full of indignation, she protested, “Well, none of this would have happened if you would have given me the correct information sooner! She is too smart now.”

“Smarter than you?” Some sarcasm laced Natasha’s voice and Yelena could practically hear her smirking on the other end.

“I have sand in my eyes...”

“Poor baby,” She now not even tried to hide the humour in her voice. “Do you need me to come down there to help you?” 

“Yes,” Yelena replied at once, mainly because she just wanted to see her sister again, but reconsidered, “No. No, I know you are busy with superhero stuff.”

Natasha was silent for a little while, letting her younger sister sulk for a bit, “Stop chasing her. You’re probably only scaring her away. Remember what they taught us about being followed?”

“Find out who is following you and why.” The tactical theories had been an integral part of their training.

“Exactly.”

Yelena bit her lip and suddenly smiled, “I know where she’s going next.”

*****

As soon as you were certain you’d lost the assassin, you made your way back to Camden Town. For a couple of weeks now, you’d noticed someone on your trail and while you’d had your suspicions, your pursuer managed to remain in the shadows for the most part. Until the last few days: you’d decided to flip the tables on her and tried following her. This all went according to plan, up until today. Still, you figured you could use your little scuffle to your advantage, because now she’d be busy trying to find you. This gave you a chance to check out her apartment and learn more about her.

It hadn’t been hard for you to figure out where she’d been staying. In fact, it had been laughably easy, if you knew what to look for. And so, only half an hour later, you were standing in front of the right building.

Now for a way to get in. You debated climbing up the walls, but there were a few too many tourist out and about for your liking. As a stroke of luck, one of them walked up to the front door and was currently fiddling with the keys.

“Let me try,” you walked up to him with a winning smile. “My mum owns this apartment, there’s a bit of a trick to it...” Without suspicion, he handed you the keys and soon enough, you’d opened the door. “See?” you charmingly beamed up at him. He didn’t think anything of it as you followed him inside.

After waving after the tourist, you walked up the stairs to the third floor. You knew it had to be one of two apartments on the front side of the building. Singing some Russian song to yourself, you settled on trying one of them.

Forcing the lock was a piece of cake and it took you about four seconds to do so. After looking around for a few moments, you knew you’d picked the right apartment. Everything looked staged somehow: there was some furniture and even a few knick-knacks scattered around, but none of it really seemed to reflect a real personality. This was an assassin’s cover story, without a doubt.

“Bed first,” you whispered to yourself, as you lifted up the mattress to look for the most obvious hiding places. Nothing there. Then you checked a few random drawers and eventually made your way to the kitchen. There, on the table and in plain sight, you found a postcard yet to be sent. You flipped the image of Nelson on his column around and on the back was written: ‘The biggest poser of them all, just for you. Love, Yelena.”

“Yelena...” you tried out the name carefully. Suddenly, your stomach made a growling noise and you went in search of some food.

Just as you had your head stuck inside the refrigerator, you heard a sound behind you. Quickly, you slammed the door shut and ran for the bedroom window, but when you got to it, a blonde was blocking the way.

“Hi!” she cheerfully said, which only gave more rise to the panic you felt building up inside of you. So, she continued, “You know, if you are looking for more food, I can make us something.”

“Shit,” you hissed and ran into the other direction.

Behind you, you heard her call out, “You do not have to run, I am happy to cook us something. I am hungry too, you know!”

Not knowing what else to do, you fled into the little bathroom and locked the door. Breathing heavily, you tried your very best to keep your focus, just as you were taught. But panic settled into the pit of your stomach, because as soon as you laid eyes on her again, you were certain: she was a widow. And you’d rather die than be taken back to the Red Room.

“Little fish...” she called out from the other side of the door, “Please just stop. It is no use. That window will not open. I have tried.”

You tried the window and cursed again at finding she was right.

“Yes, much shit,” the voice confirmed.

You slapped the side of your head three times, telling yourself to snap out of it. The only way you are going to survive this, you told yourself, is by staying calm and thinking.

“I just want to talk. And eat.”

But her talking to you didn’t help. In fact, it only increased the urgency to flee you felt. Finally, you let yourself slide down against the door and sighed. If you were going to get out of here, you needed to find a way out of this bathroom first.

Yelena, on the other side, sat down with her back against the door as well. And even though she remembered being that age so well, and she understood all the fear and distrust you were probably feeling right now, she had a hard time finding the right words. So, instead she asked, “During the dropping, how did you manage to escape the dogs? I mean, you cutting the tracker from your leg was smart, I will give you that, but that also makes me wonder: why did they not notice sooner that it was no longer moving? And how did you manage to get out of the forest without dying of frostbite first? I just have a lot of questions, you know, and I really would like some answers, because now I feel stupid for not thinking about all of that when I had my dropping.”

“You wanna know so you can tell them where to upgrade their security?” The words had left your mouth before you could stop them.

“No, rybochka, of course not. Besides, there is no point now. The Red Room is gone.”

You sucked in a deep breath, hopeful for a second, but immediately telling yourself this must be a lie.

“You don’t believe me?” Yelena seemed to sense your emotions, “I have proof.”

Considering all your options quickly, you realised you didn’t have many. “If I come out, you swear not to touch me?”

You heard some movement outside of the bathroom and realised she was getting up. “I swear it. And if I did, you’d probably throw me across the room again.”

Furrowing your brows and wondering if this was another joke, you opened the door and moved out with your back against the wall. There you found Yelena, standing in the middle of the room with her hands up, and a slight smirk on her face.

“Dreykov send you?” you asked, still eyeing all the possible exits.

“Dreykov’s dead.”

You narrowed your eyes, “How do you know?”

“I blew him up. Boom. Just like that,” the blonde smirked again at the memory, “First, we set the Red Room on fire and when they tried to escape, I sabotaged the engine and blew up the ship as they tried to get away.”

“How?”

“I stuck my baton into the propeller and it exploded. Like fireworks,” Yelena nodded proudly.

You frowned again, “There’s no way you would have survived that.”

The assassin made her way to the kitchen, but continued in a conversational tone, “I almost died, but my sister jumped after me and attached her parachute to me. Natasha saved me.”

“Right,” you nodded slowly, still very unsure of what was fact and what was fiction in this story.

“Listen, rybochka, I understand you don’t trust me now. It is okay, but I just want to help you.”

You felt at the lining of your pocket to feel for the reassuring presence of a knife there. “Why do you keep calling me ‘fish’?”

“Because you are slippery and also cute.”

Some strange part of you did like this strange assassin that was probably send to kill you. She felt familiar somehow, like you’d known her for a long time.

“Now what?” you finally asked.

“Now you give me your knife,” she glared at you strictly, like you imagined maybe a mother or sister would, “the one you keep in your pants.”

Rolling your eyes, you produced the small weapon and reached out towards her. But as Yelena tried to take it from your hands, you swiftly kicked her to the side and dashed forwards.

“What was that for!” she shouted out, full of genuine hurt. With a growl, she dodged the next few blows you tried to land. Quickly, you became aware of the fact that she was a lot more skilled than you were but you had one advantage: she tried her very best not to hurt you. Guess there were some upsides to being only twelve.

Yelena jumped out of the way and avoided the chair you threw at her. “Enough!” she warned you, “Stop fighting me or I will have to fight back.” By way of an answer, you kicked the door in her face and sprinted across the little corridor.

This was your mistake, because in those few seconds, you lost sight of her. The moment you rounded the corner, you were tackled to the floor. Yelena quickly straddled your waist and pinned your hands as you tried to claw at her face.

“Calm down!” she instructed loudly, trying to make herself heard over your loud shrieks, “I do not want to hurt you!”

“Maybe I do want to hurt you!” you ground out. Again, you felt a part of you wanting to trust her, but you just couldn’t let yourself do it.

“So stubborn...” Yelena gritted her teeth, as she tried to keep your squirming form in place. “Fine,” she suddenly let go, “As a sign of trust on my part, I will not stop you. Go on, little fish, hit me.”

You balled up your fist and pulled it back, but for some reason, you couldn’t do it.

“Good.” She climbed off of you, “Now we can eat.”

You watched her walk away and wondered, “Are you the Yelena?”

“Yelena Belova, and yes, you have heard from me.”

You had: ‘the greatest child assassin’. It was like she could read your mind, “But I am not her anymore. I am free now.”

“How?”

“I will explain while we eat. Come, little fish,” with a small smile, she motioned for you to follow her.

“Stop calling me ‘fish’!” You got up and walked over to the kitchen.

Yelena was gathering different groceries and you wondered vaguely what on earth she planned on making with all of that. Meanwhile, she stated, “But I don’t know what else to call you. What is your name?”

“It’s Y/N,” you whispered, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Yelena smiled warmly at you, “Y/N is a nice name, rybochka.”

*****

Masterlist

[junghelioseok]

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

-

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

[xxblackballoonxx]

Electric: Chapter 15

Modern John Shelby AU

This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. Classy smut warning beginning with Chapter 5.

J&Gem Chats 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 16

Electric

Chapter 15: Vicious

John sat in the quiet room, the only sound was the beeping heart monitor, one when there should’ve been two. Martha was asleep in the hospital bed, and minus the cut wrapped in gauze on her right arm, she could’ve just been asleep at home. The lidocaine was starting to wear off and John could feel the side of his head pulsing from glass being pulled out. 10 stitches. He welcomed the pain, because it was the only thing he felt like he could control.

Martha opened her eyes slowly and turned towards John, taking in the bloody shirt he was wearing, the gauze taped to the side of his head. His worried eyes watching her, and her hand in his. She breathed a sigh of relief, he was okay. She reached down automatically to feel for the baby, and John's eyes followed her hand, a haunting look coming over him. It was then that she remembered.

“What happened to the baby, John?” She asked in a raspy voice.

John took a deep breath, eyes tearing up. The pain of knowing was already overwhelming, but the pain of having to tell Martha was crushing his chest. He lifted her hand, placing his lips gently against her palm, and then held it between both of his.

“He’s gone, love. I’m so sorry, Mar, we lost him.” John said, voice shaky.

Martha watched him break down into sobs, leaning his head against the bed. Tears welled in her eyes at his pain, but her own was pushed down, deep down into a box. She let John cry, reaching over her other hand to carefully touch his face.

“The nurses, they said it would be good for us to see him, to hold him. I’ll call them.” John said, his voice strangled with pain.

He picked the up phone and quietly explained the request, while Martha turned to look at the heart monitor. Just one, not two.

A few minutes later, a nurse came in with a small swaddled bundle, placing it gently into John’s arms. Tears streamed down his face as every future scenario he’d imagined with his son, with his family, shattered into a thousand pieces. He sat for what seemed like hours before standing and silently placing the bundle into Martha’s arms.

She looked down and tried to feel something, anything, but all she felt was numb. Somewhere her brain told her she was sad, and her chest hurt at the look on John’s face, but she felt disconnected, floating alone in space. After a few minutes, she handed the bundle back to John and turned over. Looking back, he recognized it was the beginning of the end, the blank look in her eyes and how she turned her back to him.

John stood frozen in shock as Martha made her way towards the group. Anna came from behind him to stand to his right, and he tried to draw strength from his literal backup, clinging to Gemma's hand.

It was no surprise to anyone that Martha was as beautiful as ever, her blonde hair still long and wild, half pinned up. The dark green dress she wore only accentuated her beauty further. 

Gemma tried to remain calm on the outside, but on the inside her mind was going a mile a minute. How can I compete with a childhood love story between two of the most beautiful people I've ever seen?

Martha stopped a few feet in front of John, smiling at him softly. Ada glared back at her, and Finn put a hand on Gemma's shoulder in support.

"Hi, John. I take it from the look on your face that you didn't invite me to this?" Martha said.

Her voice ripped through John's soul, it had been 5 years since he'd last heard it. He shook his head no slowly in response, unable to form words or sentences. The one thing he could focus on was rubbing Gemma's hand with his thumb, trying somehow to communicate that this was entirely an unexpected shock.

"I thought so, but figured maybe it was my chance to see you again. Hi Finn, Ada, Arthur, Anna." Martha replied, nodding to each of them.

Martha took note of the woman standing next to John, their hands linked. She could feel the spark between them radiating and it was immediately clear that the two were in some way involved. Deeply involved. She saw how Ada had stepped slightly in front of the woman, and Finn's hand on her shoulder. The Shelbys had accepted her into their family, and that didn't happen easily.

"I'm Martha." She said directly to Gemma.

"Gemma." Gemma responded, almost as if on autopilot.

This was John's ex, what was she supposed to say? John could feel Gemma stiffening beside him in discomfort and he forced his brain to work properly.

"My girlfriend." He finally said, his mouth feeling like cotton as he spoke.

It was only noticeable to John, but he saw a slight flicker in Martha's eyes at his statement, and in some weird way, it pleased him that she had that reaction. Not that he wanted her to be jealous, but after so many years of little to no communication, it felt good to prove that he had moved on with his life.

"I was hoping you and I could talk, John. Took this invite as a sign that maybe it's the right time to do that."

John could feel Arthur's hand clamp down on his shoulder, Anna leaning into him on his right, and Gemma ever so slightly stepping even closer to his left.

"Only took ten fucking years." Ada commented.

Martha's eyebrow raised in surprise but stayed steady where she stood, waiting for John to reply. He wanted to tell her off, to tell her to leave. He wanted to run away. But the deepest part of him, that had loved her when they were younger, still wanted answers. He still wanted an explanation.

"Give us a minute." John finally said, stepping backwards and pulling Gemma with him.

He led her into a private suite off to the side, meant for special guests and private events, closing the door behind them. Gemma looked up at him and could see his mind spinning, his eyes struggling to focus.

"I didn't invite her, Gemma, I swear to you. The last time we even talked was five years ago." John said frantically, running his hand through his hair.

"John. Hey, J, look at me. Take a breath and look at me." Gemma replied, pulling his hand down and taking it in her free hand.

He breathed in deeply and focused on her, letting himself get lost in her eyes that flickered in the dim lighting. She held his hands tightly, forcing him to stop and remain in one spot.

"I know you didn't invite her. Even if I didn't know you and trust you like I do, anyone could see that from a mile away, it was a shock to you. What I need you to do now is make a decision on how you feel. If you want to talk to her, then I support that. If you don't want to talk to her, I support that as well. But please make that decision for yourself. There may be things that she says that you need to hear. And I have to give her credit, takes a lot of guts to show up at this event. It must be important.”

John listened to Gemma's words and nodded, still trying to focus on calming down. He was going to find out who did this, and whoever it was, they were going to pay.

"There's a huge part of me that wants to tell her to fuck off. But there's a smaller part that's saying I need to hear what she says."

"Then that's what you need to do. This is maybe the closure you need, the answers you've been waiting for."

John nodded and closed his eyes. His mind was digging up memories he’d pushed away and he wanted to stay focused. He needed to stay focused.

He opened his eyes and found Gemma watching him in concern. He pulled her backwards so he could sit down and they would be eye level. He moved his hands to her waist, and she stepped between his legs to be closer. She was trying not to think the worst but it was hard not to.

“I need to say this first. Gemma, I love you. No matter what anyone says or does, Martha included. We’ve been apart now twice as long as we were together. She is my past and it’s a past I can’t and won’t go back to. You are my second chance. My future. My life completely changed when you walked into The Garrison. I want everything with you.”

John watched Gemma’s face closely as he spoke, hoping that she was really hearing him. He could feel her fingers rub against his neck and sighed with relief.

“I love you too. And I will fight for you, so you better make it perfectly clear that you are mine. That we are together. No questions.”

John nodded as Gemma kissed him with so much strength he had lean back.

“I am yours, love. For as long as you’ll have me.” John murmured as he held Gemma’s gaze.

She stared back into him for a moment and then nodded, reaching to fix his hair. John stood up and took a few deep breaths. He led Gemma back out to the mezzanine and kissed her before making sure she was settled on the sofa.

Martha watched the interaction, and the rest watched her, waiting for a reaction. She seemed to flinch when John kissed Gemma and Ada was secretly glad. John motioned for Martha to follow him and Ada waited before the door was closed before moving.

“I need to find Esme, how the fuck did she get invited? Finn, Anna, stay with Gemma. Arthur, make sure no one comes up here, especially photographers. This cannot get out.” Ada commanded and then walked swiftly to the stairs.

Arthur stationed himself near the top of the landing, while Anna sat down next to Gemma. Finn brought them both glasses of champagne and Gemma threw hers back as quickly as she could. Finn sat down on the side of her and took her hand.

“It’ll be fine, Gem. John loves you. I’m worried about what she’s going to say to him.”

“Are you ok? She left you, too. It must be weird to see her.”

“I don’t know what to feel, I’m just shocked.”

“Whoever invited her is in for some shit, that’s all I know. John won’t let this go unchecked.” Anna commented, Finn nodding in agreement.

John closed the door of the private suite behind Martha and turned to face her. He could still feel her pull on his soul, like the ocean tide, and was wary.

“It's good to see you. Even more handsome than I had pictured.” Martha said quietly with a small smile, walking further into the room.

“You look good too.” John replied, objectively it was true.

He waited for a minute, watching her take in the luxe decor of the room, the heavy silk curtains reflecting the dimmed light from the wall sconces. 

“You had to have known I didn’t invite you to this.” John commented, standing firmly in place.

“I figured the chance was slim to none, but someone did. So I thought I’d take a shot. There are things I need to say to you.” Martha replied, turning back to face him.

God, she’s still so beautiful.  

John let the silence descend. His heart was so walled off to her, but there was always a little crack Martha could get into, where she would find 5 year old John to hold hands with. 10 year old John to walk to school with. 15 year old John who had kissed her when she’d returned from a summer vacation, finally seeing the same feelings in her eyes. 

20 year old John who had stepped up to his responsibility, loving her like she would never quite be loved again, as she carried their child and he proposed marriage late one night, after running out to buy the snack she’d been craving. And the John who had loved her still through all his pain and she had walked away from. Broken him.

“You shattered me. You walked away with barely a word of explanation. And all these years later you’re ready to explain?” John said, his tone quietly vicious.

“What I did and how I went about it was wrong, John, I know that. But I didn't even really understand it myself until the past couple of years, and I hope you’ll let me explain. For your peace of mind, if nothing else.” Martha responded, bravely taking the shot fired with his words.

John crossed his arms and nodded for her to continue.

“The shock was too much, at first. I didn't know how to explain what I was feeling, and I didn’t want to feel pain, so I kept quiet. I knew I should've been devastated, but I wasn’t, which was terrifying. I couldn’t take your pain on top of that, I couldn’t see you hurting that much.

And the baby … Will. You were so ready, so looking forward to be his father, and the life we would have together. He was a fully formed person to you, someone you already deeply loved. I can admit now that I wasn’t at that level. I’m sure, if it had gone differently, that when he was born I would have loved him fully and immediately. But I couldn’t picture it the way you could. What I saw was my life changing and I wasn’t ready for it. So when we lost him, I pushed you away and I lost you forever.”

Martha watched John with tears in her eyes as he took in her words and tried to process what she was saying. It made sense, having the time and distance to look back on how events unfolded after the accident. But it still hurt like hell to think about. 

“That night at The Garrison. You fucking crushed me, Martha.” 

John went through the back door of The Garrison after getting a call from Arthur. John had been looking for Martha all day and apparently she was here. With Tommy.

He rounded the bar and saw them sitting at the far end. She was laughing. Tommy passed her another glass and she took a long sip, her smile falling as she saw John.

“Mar, I’ve been looking for you all day. What the fuck is going on here?” John asked angrily.

Tommy turned towards him, blank gaze mixed with whiskey. Understandably he’d been a wreck since the accident, but this was too much. 

“The fun police are here, Tommy.” Martha commented as she took another sip of her drink.

“We’re just having a few drinks, John. Commiserating.” Tommy slurred, holding up his glass.

“Martha, come on. You’re drunk. Let me take you home.” John said, reaching out for her.

Martha pulled away from his hand, the glare she gave cutting right through John’s soul.

“Leave me alone, John.” She said coolly.

“You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks, won’t take my calls. What am I supposed to do?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Mar, please. Let me take you home, we can talk tomorrow, I’m just worried about you.”

“No, John. You and I. I can’t do it anymore. Looking at you hurts too much.”

John staggered back, reaching out for a barstool for support. Arthur caught his arm and steadied him. Never, in the 15 years he’d known Martha, had she ever talked to him like that. Ever. Tommy’s eyes were wide, concern surfacing through the sea of alcohol. 

“Fine. Call me when you're sober.” John replied stiffly, turned, and walked out the front door of The Garrison.

Arthur glared at Tommy and followed John out. 

John had avoided that spot at that bar for the next ten years, until Gemma sat down right there and ordered a Coke. The ways she’d changed his life and she didn't even know it.

“I was awful to you, John. Sending my parents to pick up my things, not speaking to you. Avoiding you. I am truly, truly sorry.” Martha said, her eyes tearing up again.

The last time they had spoken, five years before, was when they had awkwardly run into each other on the street and she’d said that she was moving to London. That Birmingham was his now.

“Do you ever think about him?” John asked, spinning the signet ring on his pinky.

“All the time.” Martha whispered.

“You should visit him sometime. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think of him and what he would be like.” John said, eyes watering.

Martha nodded and composed herself, John giving her a moment by looking down at the floor.

“Would you have changed it? If you could go back, would you have gone through with having him?” 

It was a question that haunted John, one that had popped into his mind early on, in the midst of a very drunken and painful evening.

“No, I wouldn’t have changed it. He was part of you, and I loved you too much to let any part of you go. Had he lived, maybe you and I would be here together, tonight.” 

“I think about that sometimes, how our lives would’ve gone if he’d lived.”

“We’ll never really know, right? Time goes on and we keep going with it. You seem to be in a good place now, and I’m happy for you. How long have you and Gemma been dating?” 

“A little over 3 months.”

“But it’s serious.” Martha’s voice turned quiet.

“It is. The most serious I’ve been about someone since you and I. I love her.”

Martha smiled and nodded, walking over to John. 

“I know you do. Thanks for taking the time to talk. A part of me will love you forever. Be happy, John.” She said, her small hand against his face and then gone just as quickly.

“You deserve to be happy too, Martha. What happened was an accident. I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I did.”

“I’m trying. Fact is, there are very few men that are as good as you. There’s one, though, and maybe it’s time to let him in.”

Martha and John stood still for a minute, watching each other, the realization that they each had really moved on into different places in life. John still saw the young girl that he had loved, and how much that love that had impacted him. And he knew that he loved Gemma just as much now, but would love her even more as their relationship deepened.  

“Something you should know … I’m getting back into music, once this opening is wrapped up. And there’s a lot of songs over the years that I’ve written about you. And what happened. I thought you should know, so that it wouldn’t be a shock.” John said, watching for a reaction.

“That’s genuinely good news, John. I can imagine how much you've missed it, and if that’s what you want to do, you should. It is your life, too, your memories.”

John nodded in thanks and then stared down at the floor, unsure of what else to say.

“Would um … do you think Gemma would talk to me for a few minutes?” Martha asked quietly.

“I can ask her, can’t say if she’ll agree. But I trust you to keep it civil.” John replied and headed for the door.

Gemma breathed a sigh of relief as she saw John exit the suite alone, smiling wanly at her. It was clear the conversation had been emotional. 

“Gem, Martha wants to know if she could talk to you? It’s up to you.” John said awkwardly, standing in front of the sofa.

Gem looked at Finn who shrugged and then to Anna who smiled encouragingly. Gemma stood and took John’s hand, squeezing it as she looked into his eyes, and then nodded.

Ada came back up the stairs just as Gemma went into the suite. 

“John, I talked to Esme, she has no clue how Martha got on the invite list. We sent out the invites from the office, only Esme and Alison had access to the final list, or were supposed to, and they put together the mailing. We’ll find out who - wait, where’s Gemma?” Ada said, talking quickly as she took in the scene.

Gemma closed the door behind her, coming face to face with Martha, who was sitting on the edge of a velvet armchair. 

“Gemma, thank you for taking the time to speak with me.” Martha said in a friendly, respectful tone.

“You’re welcome. What did you want to talk about?” Gemma replied, on guard.

“I just want to let you know that I came here to apologize to John, nothing more. It’s something I should’ve done a long time ago, but I didn’t quite understand it myself until more recently. So much time had passed … calling or dropping in didn’t seem to be options.”

“Well, I’m sure he appreciates the explanation, I know it’s weighed on him.”

“It’s nice to see him happy again. In love. Hard to find a better man than John Shelby. Take care of him.” 

Gemma watched the pain flit across Martha’s face, and she felt for her. Losing her child, losing John. Moving away and still trying to find her own happiness. 

“I will. I love him more than words can say. I know how rare of a find he is. And I know he wants you to be happy, it’s important to him. Even if it doesn't seem like it.”

Martha nodded and the two watched each other for a moment. John’s past and his future.

“Can you do me one favor?” Gemma asked.

“What is it?”

“Apologize to Finn before you leave. He’s worried about John, and me and John, but he lost you, too.”

“I see why John loves you. Why they all do. Once you’re in with the Shelbys, they’ll protect you with their lives. I’ll speak to him.”

Gemma nodded and let Martha walk out first. 

John watched as Martha came towards Finn, pulling him to the side, and Gemma trailed behind. He met her halfway and took her hand.

“What did she have to say?” John asked worriedly.

“I think in some way she wanted to make sure I appreciate who you are. That you’re loved in the way you should be.” Gemma replied, a small smile on her face.

“There’s no question on that, love. Thank you for dealing with all this. She’s talking to Finn now.”

“I know, I asked her to.”

John pulled Gemma into him, whispering his thanks into her hair as they made their way back to the seating area. 

Gemma’s ability to understand what people needed was one of the things he loved about her the most. She had sensed how hurt Finn had been, as a young child, when Martha left the family. It wasn’t just John, it was the entire Shelby clan. Finn had known Martha his entire life, he was too young to remember before John and Martha were a couple, and they were a steady presence after Margaret Shelby had died. Martha’s absence was something he had never really understood.

John and Gemma watched as Martha gave Finn a side hug, and then Martha turned back to everyone else. 

“Just one question, Martha. Can you describe to me what the invite looked like?” Ada asked, all business, and not looking for or willing to have any further conversations.

“It was turquoise and gold? Had the date, location, and the password to get in.” Martha replied.

The two faced off, and the air felt sucked out of the room. Ada and Martha had been close friends, and Ada had taken Martha’s abandonment hard. But what it did to John left Martha’s actions unforgivable to Ada, and even under the best of circumstances, Ada would never have let her back in. 

“That was a legitimate invite, then. I called a car for you. Arthur, can you walk her down to the back entrance?” Ada continued.

Martha smiled knowingly at Ada’s dig, but nodded in acceptance.

“John, thank you for taking the time to speak with me. Gemma, lovely to meet you.” Martha said, as she touched John’s arm and stepped back.

“Take care of yourself, Mar.” John replied quietly.

The use of her nickname, which hadn’t been spoken by John since the night at The Garrison, hit hard, and tears sprung to Martha’s eyes. She smiled bravely, allowing Arthur to gently guide her towards the back set of stairs that would lead to the private entrance at the rear of the building.

John waited until Martha and Arthur had gone down the first flight of stairs before he leaned over and breathed out. Gemma rubbed his back gently and Finn poured him a large glass of whiskey. 

“You alright?” Anna asked as John stood up and knocked back half the whiskey in one go.

“Just a shock. Need to process what she said. But mostly, need to find out who did this.” John responded, his anger starting to flood in.

Finn and Gemma looked at each other, their concerned looks matching. Both knew that John wouldn’t let it go until he figured out the truth. The anger flickered higher in his eye as they all caught sight of Tommy at the top of the main stairs, Lizzie and Esme close behind.

John stood tall, looking particularly imposing in his suit, as Tommy locked eyes with him and walked evenly towards his brother. Out of the people working on the event, there was a very small pool who knew the depths of John’s personal tragedy, even fewer who knew the damage this stunt could’ve caused. And at the top of that list was one Thomas Shelby.

“John, I just heard about Martha being here. I don’t know how this happened, but we’ll figure out.” Tommy said as he stopped in front of John.

“Really, Tommy? You had no idea?” John replied sarcastically.

“John I’m serious. I had no idea. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Tommy’s voice dropped off, the hurt that his brother would think that of him was too much to cover up.

John stood for a long moment, looking directly into his brother’s eyes, searching for the Tommy before the accident. The Tommy who stood by him at Will’s funeral, holding him up, holding him as he broke down in private later. The Tommy who came over the morning after that night at The Garrison, apologizing profusely. And for the first time in years, John saw that version of his brother rise up.

“I believe you. Esme, Lizzie - not a word of this gets out. Not one single photograph. Whoever did this wants a major reaction, and they won’t get it. Not until I find out who it is, and then. Then there will be hell to pay.” John’s voice was steady but there was no mistaking the quietly vicious tone that came over him when he was angry.

Tommy nodded and looked at Gemma, who gently led John towards the sofa, where he sat in the corner and pulled her into him. Finn refilled his glass, and John took a long sip, watching Tommy steadily. It was unspoken but Tommy knew. John really wouldn’t stop until the culprit had been found. And Tommy would help him.

[jaeminscoffee]

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n." 

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine." 

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 

Ironic, huh? 

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 

"Answer me." 

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?" 

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 

"Say it, Y/n." 

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

tell me again | e. kirishima 

➳ tags ;; fem!reader, disgustingly tooth rotting fluff, super cliche confession scene, kinda fuckboy kiri

➳ wc ;; 1.4k

➳ a/n ;; sometimes you just gotta write some corny fucking romance tropes man. 

➳ plot ;; after kirishima ghosted you post your confession, you don’t really plan on seeing him again. naturally when he shows up to your dorm during finals week - you’re not exactly sure what to do. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

A knock on the door of your shared dorm room startles you out of a late night study session. At this time of night and during finals week - you don’t find yourself to be all that excited for whoever's at the other side. Your R.A., Iida is known for being a stickler and whatever news he brings won’t be good. 

You look over your shoulder at Mina, who instead of studying, has been playing 2048 on her laptop for the last hour. She looks back at you with an exasperated sigh leaving her lips, promptly pushing her laptop to the side. 

“Why is it always me who answers the door?” she groans. 

“Because you chose to study business,” you reply without missing a beat. She flips her middle finger off at you without a second thought but your nose is too deeply buried into your materials for you to care. 

The knocking gets more frantic as the seconds pass. 

“Coming!” she shouts it, irritation already filling her at whoever would be on the otherside. She swings it open, irritated beyond belief. In the midst of her preparing to cuss out whoever was on the other side at this hour, only a quarter of her sentence makes it out of her mouth. 

“Who the hell is -,” she stumbles, pauses. The words don’t even halfway make it out of her mouth before she blinks twice before stumbling back “Kirishima?” 

At this, your head snaps up to look behind you. You know you’re not visible from the door way, your desk opposite of view but you look anyway. You can’t see him but you can hear his voice. 

“Mina, hey - uh, is Y/N here? It’s uhm.. shit, I need to,” 

Mina crosses her arms above her chest, blocking Kirishima when he tries to look over her shoulder. You’re frozen in place and you think anyone in your position would be. 

Your.. relationship with Kirishima is complicated at best. You’d know him since you were freshman and after this semester, you’d managed to work out the courage to confess your feelings to him. You were certain he felt them back for you, ignoring his somewhat notorious reputation in hopes he was being genuine. He seemed awfully genuine to you. 

As it would be, you were met with rejection. It hurt but you weren’t worried about it either way. What you wanted was to remain friends, because Kirishima is awfully important to you. A confession shouldn’tve had made so much of a difference. You wished that’d been the case, anyway. 

But he.. left you like that. Left your friendship at the weird wits end where even when you saw each other on campus or elsewhere - there was no greeting. No hello or how are you. Uncomfortably, you faded into being strangers and you haven’t spoken to him in months.

“She’s not here,” 

Kirishima’s face twists up at the words. He looks over, just peers and shakes his head. 

“I can see the little colored lights that she keeps on to focus are on. I know she’s here. Please just let me talk to her,”

Mina turns her head slightly to make eye-contact with you. You shake your head softly, uninterested in what he has to say. Your heart feels too heavy. You know it’s kind of stupid but the wound feels fresh. Never-ending in how it aches. 

Mina doesn’t budge. 

“She doesn’t want to talk to you. Fuck off back to your dorm and leave us alone,” 

Mina pushes in on the door but he sighs, sticking his hand in even when she pushes in on it. He curses under his breath at the weight of it on his hand. Mina’s eyes go wide. 

“What the fuck are you -” 

“I know you can hear so I’ll just say it, shit” ― he curses under his breath but you catch ― “Even if Mina crushes my hand, please don’t though. You both know I don’t have health insurance,” 

You crack a warbly smile at the comment and Mina lets up but doesn’t open the door up. She keeps her hand steady on his, letting him writhe in mild pain. 

“I love you,” 

You freeze and so does Mina. Kirishima rests his forehead on the door with a soft sigh. Your heart skips a beat or two. You can’t keep track. 

“I know I fucked this up like.. really bad. When you told me you had feelings for me, at first it was.. I don’t know. It was like I couldn’t believe you,” 

You bite back tears as you listen to him. He can hear people in the rest of the dorm start to peek out but he doesn’t seem to stop.

“Shit, it was you. Not be corny but fuck like.. how the hell could I ever believed you liked me? Of all people, you chose me with a shitty fuckboy reputation and stupid haircut,” he laughs a little at this and so do you. 

“Kirishima..”  Mina mumbles

“It was too much. Like you’re so.. so much. But not in a bad way. Like the idea of being with you was just so damn overwhelming. And Bakugou told me not to be an idiot and ghost you but I was just so.. so scared,” 

You can hear the way his voice shakes. 

“I’ve never been with anyone seriously before and I’m kind of an idiot and I didn’t wanna fuck it all up. Like what if you realize half-way that it’s not me you want? What if.. what if we started dating and you realized that it was some kind of mistake?” 

“Eijirou...”

He smiles a little. The sound of your voice is soft like he remembers. He thinks it might be worth Mina breaking his hand if he gets to see you. 

“It was easier to break it off before it got serious, that’s what I thought. But then we didn’t talk for a few months and I was goin fuckin’ crazy thinking about you,” ― he laughs at the memory, drunk and dizzy from it ― “You don’t think you can miss one person so much. That just one person could mean so much to you.. like you’re incomplete without them there,’ 

You sniffle, wiping tears you hadn’t realized had fallen from your cheeks. 

“I think I’m in too deep. It was already too serious. I already.. loved you. I thought it’d be better if I just fucking.. ran here and told you,”  ― Mina opens the door up and steps to one side as you stumble towards it, tear eyed and in loose pajamas. Not confession ready in the least  ― “I thought maybe I’d get lucky and I’d have a chance of you at least.. forgiving me. Maybe if I was really lucky, you’d still like me too,” 

He shoves his hands in his pockets and stares at you, mouth curved into a half smile. So sincere, like always. You wonder to yourself if there would ever be a way to love him less. 

“So uhm.. I’m sorry. And I love you.. and it’d be sick if you like.. loved me back but it’s not necessary. I’ll do whatever you want just.. I dunno. Be in my life again, maybe?”

You run into his arms but he catches you. You’re a half conscious mess, sniffling into him as you punch his shoulder. He chuckles but hugs you back, wincing as you hit him. 

“Of course I love you, you stupid asshole,”  ― you whine, hugging him even tighter  ― “Your timing is shit, y’know that? Stupid -” 

He pulls back and leans into you. Lets his mouth bump into yours clumsily until you melt into a placating kiss. It’s all too much Kirishima - a gentle swipe of tongue and sharp teeth. Sweet but not enough. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth. He’s too good at that, you think. 

“I know, but.. that’s why you like me right?” 

You roll your eyes, opting to keep clinging to him instead of replying. From behind you, Mina sighs. 

“I’m glad you stopped being a jackass but how the hell did you make it up here without Iida noticing,” 

From outside, there’s two loud but distinct voices. It’s Kaminari, screaming and Iida screaming back. When Mina walks over to peer outside, she catches an eyeful of a very naked and very drunk blonde. She cackles. 

“Uh.. I’ll just say I owe Kami a ton of money right mow,” 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[buckybarnesdiaries]

otchet o missii

© @wintersthighs

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

part one ⸺ part two ⸺ bonus

request made by anon: Hi Maria you beautiful person you please be my friend 🥺 I kinda have a request but if it doesn't speak to you then you don't have to write it, could you write something where reader is an enhanced/ mutant (kinda like Wanda or Jean Grey so like crazy powerful and dangerous) and Bucky just will not let the government get near her because he knows they'll probably experiment on her to make her a weapon cause they're sus like that? It can be romantic or platonic no preference, if ya want, please and thanks sorry this was so long

word count: 1.165 words.

warnings/tags: none. dad!bucky being overprotective with his baby soldier.

author notes: re-posted because tumblr deleted it for no reason. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Soldat, stoy”.

(Soldier, stop).

Your eyes widened. Your heart raced. The time froze. That command clicked something in your brain, producing the spheres of flames concentrated on your palms to dwindle till disappearing. You had just one second to look around you, before turning at the firm tone of voice behind your back. You found yourself in the middle of Times Square, surrounded by different security forces, aiming at you with large-caliber weapons. Above your head, two helicopters were setting up a perimeter. The chaos spread around the long avenue. You didn't have an idea of how you ended up there, but you were scared like never before.

Turning slowly, your eyes landed on a pair of pale blue orbs. You didn’t notice the other people as a backup. A feeling of safety invaded you when he tilted his head confused, narrowing his eyes, trying to understand how it was possible that you were there. But before you could take a step closer to him, a twinge followed by an electric cramp shook your body. The last thing you heard before blacking out was an I got you, and a cold arm wrapping your abdomen.

BUCKY'S POV

Avengers Compound

06:03 pm, New York

“How do you know it’s not a trap set by Hydra?” Steve asked, reclining himself on his seat at the meeting table next to the rest of the Avengers.

“Because I trust her”. Bucky didn’t doubt replying, although he couldn’t understand why, hearing Stark clicking his tongue as he rolled his eyes.

“James, you don’t know her”. Natasha sighed, referring to the fact that being assassins together years ago meant nothing.

“I trained her. She owes me loyalty”.

“What’s that? Some kind of Stockholm Syndrome patented by Hydra?” Clint scoffed incredulously.

“Tell us what you know about her, Bucky. What you remember”. The captain asked his long-life friend, leaning on the table with both forearms rested against the edge of it.

The soldier gulped, deeply breathing, nodding his chin with his eyes lost somewhere on the dark oak. He explained how Vasily Karpov knew about you. An orphan with no family, no history, and a power of telepathy that allowed you to control the four elements as you pleased. Water, fire, earth, and air. From nowhere, your body could produce flames and throw them anywhere. Exactly the same you could do with water and air. Earth was different. Only by using your hands you could wild it as you want; creating earthquakes or holes, move it. The heroes around Bucky were stupefied. You were a potential danger.

Then, he told them about your skills. Karpov made him stay awake after killing Tony’s parents to train her. You were just a kid. And soon, you were a soldier with an angelic face who could kill anyone just by blinking your eyes. To tell the truth, the Winter Soldier was everything you had in this life. You two worked together, hand-to-hand, for more than ten years until he disappeared. With him out of the game, Hydra continued experimenting with you to replace him. But they reached a point where you couldn't bear the pain, losing control completely.

“Let me talk with her, please”. Bucky begged, touring his eyes around the people there.

“It’s too dangerous”. Vision affirmed, taking a position close to Tony.

“She. Owes. Me. Loyalty”. He repeated almost hissing, pointing out every word with his silver forefinger poking the table.

“You have five minutes before the Government brings her to the Raft”. Rhodes sentenced, crossing his arms on his chest. “Five minutes”.

Escorted by Steve and Wanda, who was the only one there that could control you, Bucky went down to the third sublevel. When the soporific made its effect and knocked you out in the middle of Manhattan, the Avengers managed to take you to their compound.

You were still stoned, but conscious enough to know what was happening around you. Everything spun inside the bunker. Your head hurt like hell and you felt a knot within the pit of your stomach that made you want to puke your guts. As the heavy door proffered a loud noise being opened you retreated to the farthest corner, placing your knees to your chest and wrapping your legs with both arms. Again, you were shaking. Terrified. About to beg for your life.

“Soldat, otchet o missii”.

(Soldier, mission report).

Your breathing became erratic as if the air wasn't enough to fill your lungs. You were at the edge of your crying, raising your hidden face from the gap of your knees. The Winter Soldier was standing some feet away from you. No expression on his face, as always, but with the small difference of a slight inkling of concern. He also looked skinnier, shorter hair, a grown beard. He looked healthier, free.

“Net zadaniya”. You whispered with a broken tone.

(No assignment).

“Soldat, otchet o missii”. He repeated taking a step ahead, hardening his voice.

(Soldier, mission report).

The command made you gulp a sob. Wasn’t he believing you? How could you lie to him?

“Net zadaniya”. You replied with no hesitation, standing on your bare feet and sticking your back to the wall. “Missiya ne naznachena”.

(No assignment. No mission assigned).

You noticed he wanted to turn to his partners, but he didn't. The soldier kept eye contact, coming a little more closer, invading your personal space without caring. He tilted his head forward, trying to find the answers to his questions in your orbs. But they both were emptied with the sole exception of the horror invading your chest and reflected on them. You didn't want to come back. You wanted to be released from Hydra's chain. You weren't an assassin, nor a monster.

“I wa… I was looking for… you”. Babbling, you confessed, being the explanation for why your mind took you to that place in concrete.

“Why?”

“Because you are the only person I have”.

His eyelids narrowed for a second, scanning your intentions, feeling frustrated by not finding anything hidden beneath your words. “Otchet o missii, soldat”.

(Mission report, soldier).

“Net zadaniya, Sergeant Barnes”.

(No assignment).

It was the first time you pronounced part of his real name since you met him many years ago and you could listen to his heartbeat increasing. Before you blinked, his metallic hand grabbed your throat and pinned you against the wall, watching the fury and the rage taking control over his grimace. Glancing above his shoulder, a redhead woman stopped the blonde man known as Captain America. Your gaze focused again on the soldier, loosening slowly the grip on your skin.

“Why don't you remember me?”

The last thing you knew about him was that the man behind him brought back the memories of his past life. His real life. But he was still looking at you with hate and revulsion. Of course, the Winter Soldier was conscious of who you were. What he had forgotten was how he felt about you. He didn't reply to your question, walking backward to the exit, leaving you there. Alone. Again.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

author notes: what do you think about, after the two parts explaining the story, continuing it to explore the evolution of their relationship? do you like the idea? lemme know in a comment or send me an ask!

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[sugdenlovesdingle]

Robron week day 3: reunited and it feels so good

We’ll always have... Porto? (AO3)

Robert gets out of prison and comes back to Emmerdale, only Aaron isn’t around anymore. Post-canon fix it.

A/N: yes this is super late... but better late than never right?

A/N 2: it’s a long one, grab a snack and a drink before reading!

---

Two and a half years. Two and a half long years.

That’s how long has passed since Robert was a free man. Since he’d seen his family. Since he’d been happy.

He’d been miserable and downright suicidal the first few months, but eventually he’d accepted his fate and focused on the inane jobs they’d made him do, and tried to actually befriend some of the other guys in his wing.

For protection if nothing else.

And now, suddenly, miraculously right before his birthday, it was all over.

“Come on Sugden, you’re getting out today. You don’t want to give anyone time to change their mind.” Ian, one of the guards said, clapping his hands together to move him along.

He was one of the younger guards and Robert had often wondered how he’d ended up as a guard in a prison on the Isle of Wight. A high security one at that. The guys that were in there weren’t there for stealing a packet of gum.

Robert followed him through the gates to the intake area where he’d only been once before. The day he’d arrived. It almost seemed like a lifetime ago.

“We’ve still got your personal belongings in storage, the clothes you came in with and whatever else you had on you.” Ian told him as he took off Robert’s handcuffs and handed him a bag. “You can change in there.” He gestured at a glorified shower meets changing room where the new arrivals could shower and change into their prison uniforms. “No funny business, you know there’s camera’s around here.”

“Yeah… wouldn’t have it any other way.” Robert said in an attempt at a joke. He changed out of his uniform and then realised the clothes he’d worn to court were the clothes he’d arrived in prison in. The suit he bought because Aaron had said he’d liked the way he looked in blue. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the first time he’d worn it, or the first time Aaron had taken it off of him.

“Come on Sugden.” Ian knocked on the wall since the only door was a ratty old shower curtain. “I do have more to do today.”

“Yeah. Almost done.”

Fifteen minutes later he was standing next to Ian, waiting for the last few gates to open and give him his freedom back.

“You got anyone waiting for you on the other side?” Ian asked while they waited.

“Not really no. I was meant to do 14 years. People move on, you know.”

A buzzer sounded and the large iron gates started to move.

“No girlfriend? Wife? Didn’t you say you had a kid?”

“Yeah. A son. He lives with his mother. Probably doesn’t even remember me. He was only two when I got sent down.”

“That’s rough, man.”

“Yeah…” Robert replied, not sure what to say.

Ian walked him through the now opened gate held out his hand for Robert to shake.

“Well, this is it, man. Good luck to you, I hope I won’t see you back here again.”

“Me too.” Robert agreed and started walking, head down and hands in his pockets, unsure where to go.

“ROBERT!” someone suddenly yelled and Robert’s head snapped up.

“Vic?” Her hair was longer than the last time he’d seen her and she was smiling.

“Robert!” she yelled again, running towards him. “I’m so sorry I’m late. They wouldn’t give me a time when you were getting out and then I wasn’t sure if it was this gate or the one on the other side and the boys were being difficult all morning…” She didn’t finish her sentence, just wrapped her arms around him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Robert settled on as he made himself hug her back. “I didn’t think you’d be here…”

“Of course I was going to be here! You’ve been inside for over two years for something you didn’t even do! Where else was I going to be?”

“I don’t know… at home?”

She scoffed.

“Like I could just stay at home and go to work knowing my big brother was getting out.” She slapped his arm and then took his bag from him. “Come on, let’s get out of here. David and the boys stayed at the B&B. We got here two days ago and we have a room for you too. You’re going to have to share with Jacob though, they wouldn’t let us rent a room and not stay in it for two days.”

Robert shook his head, trying to make sense of what Vic was saying. He’d talked to her on the phone a few times since his case was reopened and she’d shared some of what was going on in her life, but he still had trouble catching up.

“I parked around the corner, this island is bigger than you think.” She continued. “But we’re leaving on the first ferry out tomorrow morning. I would have booked it for today but they wouldn’t give me a time so I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I’ve spent two years here… what’s another day.”

Vic stopped to really look at him.

“How are you? Really.”

“I’m out, that’s what matters.” Robert settled on. “The rest… I’ll figure out along the way.”

“Well I’m here for you. No matter what.” Vic told him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking herself under his arm. “Let’s go grab a bite to eat. I think I saw a chippy on the way over here.”

“No I’m ok. I just ate. Let’s just get out of here. I want to meet my nephew.”

Vic’s face lit up.

“I told him about you, you know. I told him his uncle Robert is coming home. I think he understands it’s a big deal. And Seb is excited to see his dad again too.”

Robert stopped dead in his tracks at the mention of his son’s name.

“Seb’s here?”

“Yes… I told you… he lives with me and David.”

“He what? Since when?”

“About six months I think now… I told you this, Robert.”

“No you didn’t. I would have remembered.” Robert vowed. “What happened to Rebecca? And Ross?”

“They broke up. Ross moved to America. I think he lives in LA now… or was it Santa Monica…I don’t remember.” She shrugged. “And Rebecca couldn’t cope and left Seb with us… I’m his guardian… It’s all official. Since I’m his only living next of kin. Or… was. Now you’re out you can be his dad again.”

Robert’s head was spinning. He’d thought about Seb every single day but he’d pretty much accepted Rebecca would never let him see him again. At least not as long as she was able to make decisions for him.

Vic guided him over to her car and put his bag in the back.

“Come on, let’s go. It’s not far.

The drive over to the B&B seemed to take forever but when they were finally there, Robert couldn’t make himself go inside and see his son again.

“Rob? Are you coming?” Vic waited in the doorway.

“I… I’ve dreamed about this for two years, Vic… but… what if he’s scared of me? I’m a stranger. He was so little when I got sent down.”

“You’re his dad. I’ve told him all about you. You’re not a stranger.”

“But… he doesn’t know me… Ross is his dad… Rebecca is his mum… that’s the life he knows.”

“Used to know. He knows his dad is coming home today. He’s excited. David and Jacob took all three of them to this playground down the road this morning to work off some nervous energy.” Vic told him. “Now come on, come say hi to your son.”

Before Robert could make up his mind either way, the door opened and David walked out with Seb holding his hand.

He’d gotten so big, and his hair had brightened to a more blond instead of the ginger it had been when he was little, and he was wearing a shirt with a giraffe on it Robert himself could have picked out for him.

“Look Seb, it’s daddy.” Vic said happily as Robert dropped to his knees in front of his son.

“Hey mate… remember me? I know it’s been a while… but I’m so happy to see you.” He said, blinking away the tears.

“Go on mate, go say hi. Give your dad a hug.” David urged Seb who took a few gingerly steps towards Robert, who in turn couldn’t resist scooping him up in his arms.

“I missed you so much.” He kissed the top of Seb’s head. “So much. I promise I’m going to be the best dad I can to you from now on.” He let the boy go and wiped at his cheeks, unable to stop the tears from flowing.

“Are you sad?” Seb asked, which made Robert cry even harder. He’d only been babbling when Robert went away and now he was speaking full sentences. “No mate, I’m just really happy to see you again.”

They spent the rest of the day relaxing at the B&B, while the kids played in the garden, and Robert got David and Jacob to catch him up on what had been happening back in Emmerdale.

“Diane moved to Portugal, Moira has a brother, Gabby had a baby, and Liv and Vinny got married? I have missed a lot, haven’t I?”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m sure you’ll fit back in right away.” David assured him and Robert just nodded.

There was only one person he was truly interested in, and that person seemed to be missing from all of the stories.

They left the island the next day and drove back to Emmerdale.

They stopped at a McDonalds just outside Birmingham to grab a bite to eat and stretch their legs and let the kids play in the ball pit for a while.

David and Jacob were getting the food in and Robert took the opportunity to ask Vic about the one thing that had been on his mind ever since he’d found out he’d be released.

“So… how’s Aaron?” he asked casually. Like he wasn’t dying to know the answer.

Vic bit her lip.

“What? Did he meet someone? Did he remarry?”

“He… went out with a kayak instructor for a while… I don’t know how serious it was…”

“Ok… Was? Did they break up?”

“Something like that…”

“Something like that? What does that mean? What aren’t you telling me?”

Vic took a deep breath and Robert braced himself for what she was about to say.

“They went out for a while but the guy died. He got murdered. And Aaron left the village not long after and I don’t think anyone knows where he is now.” She said quickly.

“What?”

“I heard Chas say something about him meeting up with Adam but he wouldn’t tell her where. I think he texts her every now and then but she still doesn’t know where he is.”

“I… wow…” Robert trailed off, not sure what to say.

“I didn’t want to upset you by telling you… but I didn’t want you to get your hopes up that he’d be there when you came back.”

Robert shook his head.

“It’s fine. I’m ok. It’s ok.” He forced a smile. “I’m just going to see what the kids are up to.”

The rest of the journey back to Emmerdale, Robert got lost in his own head. In all scenarios he’d thought up about his return to the village, Aaron was always there. Not quite welcoming him back with open arms, but there nonetheless. And knowing he wouldn’t be now and nobody knew where he was, really threw him for a loop.

“Home at last.” David announced as Vic parked the car.

When Robert looked out the window he noticed they’d stopped outside Farrers Barn instead of Keepers Cottage.

“Why are we here?”

“We live here.” Vic told him. “David and I moved in together last year. The boys were always together anyway… and Matty and Amy needed their own space.” She explained. “I told you this last time we talked.”

“Right... yeah… must’ve slipped my mind…”

He hid in the house for the next few days, insisting he didn’t want a fuss for his birthday, and just wanted to settle back in on his own terms.

In reality he didn’t want to know what Emmerdale was like without Aaron down the road.

In the end it was David who convinced him to come out of hiding and help out in the shop for a few hours.

By some miracle nobody he really knew came in and he didn’t have to have any awkward conversations.

Until Liv walked in.

“Robert?!” she said dumbfounded. “Is that you?”

“Yeah… hey…”

“But… when did you get out? How did you get out? Did you escape?”

“And come back to my hometown? That’s the first place they’d look.” He said, amused. “I got out a few days ago. New evidence, case was reopened… and here I am.” He said, giving her the short version of events.

They chatted for a little while, and Robert had to admit to himself it was good to see her again. They hadn’t always seen eye to eye, but he still considered her his sister of sorts.

“I hear congratulations are in order? I can’t believe you got married!”

She smiled brightly and told him how she and Vinny had eloped, and how Mandy and Chas had blown a gasket over it.

And if he enjoyed that part of the story the most, nobody had to know.

“I just wish Aaron would have been there…”

“He wasn’t there?”

She shook her head.

“He left a few weeks before Christmas… and I haven’t talked to him since. Things weren’t going so great between us.”

“Just give him time… I’m sure he’ll reach out to you sooner or later.”

“Yeah… maybe.” She shrugged. “It’s better like this. Us living in each other’s pockets wasn’t doing anyone any good.” She put her card on the machine to pay for her shopping. “I should get back, Vin will be home soon and we’re having dinner with Mandy.”

“Alright. See you around.”

“You too. I’m glad you’re out Rob.”

Robert nodded.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Over the next few weeks Robert slowly settled back into village life as best as he could. He worked the odd shift in David’s shop and spent as much time with Seb as possible to make good on his promise to be the best dad he could be to him.

One day, a few weeks after he’d gotten released, Bernice and Kerry insisted he needed a haircut and a makeover, and by the time he left the salon, he almost felt like his old self again.

Almost.

The most important part of his old life was missing… and he had no way to find it.

“We were thinking of going to see Diane.” Vic said that night during tea. “We stayed with her a bit last year and the boys loved it.”

“Ok. Do you need me to mind the shop?”

“No, I’ve got Amy for that.” David said quickly. “And Jake when he’s not studying for his exams. The shop will be fine.”

“We thought you might want to come along?” Vic suggested. “I’m sure Diane would love to see you.”

“I don’t know… what would I do all day in some retirement village in Portugal?”

“It’s not like that. Diane lives in a flat in downtown Porto and she has plenty of spare rooms for us. And Paul and his partner Gabriel live just down the road and they own a bar.”

“Paul?”

“Auntie Val’s son! Our cousin!”

“Right…” Robert couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Paul or if he’d ever met the guy at all but he figured a few weeks away from the village wouldn’t be so bad. “When did you want to go?”

Apparently when Vic put her mind to something, she didn’t waste any time, and by the end of the week Robert found himself having lunch with Diane in some café in Porto not far from her house.

“It’s good to have you back, pet.” She said for about the 20th time since they’d arrived and patted his knee. “You look well, despite everything.”

“Yeah, well… That’s down to Bernice. She decided I needed a makeover.”

“He had long hair down to his shoulders.” Vic said laughingly. “And a beard. A full beard, not like he has now.”

“Yeah alright, enough criticising my looks now, thank you.”

Suddenly a guy walked up to their table and for a second Robert assumed he was a waiter until he pulled up a chair and sat down next to Diane.

“Sorry I’m late. We had a bit of a staff crisis at the bar.” He explained. “My manager quit and left for Hungary this morning and half of my staff is either sick or unavailable.”

“Did you get it solved?” Vic asked and the guy shook his head.

“No. I think Gabriel and I will have to man the taps ourselves tonight.” He said and Robert put two and two together and figured out he must be Paul.

He studied the guy for a moment, trying to remember if he’d ever met him, trying to picture what he’d looked like about ten years younger, when Vic snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“What?”

“Diane suggested you might want to help out in the bar tonight. You’ve done bar work, right?”

“Uh… yeah… yeah I have.”

“Do you speak Portuguese by any chance?” Paul asked.

“I speak Spanish…” Robert offered.

“Yeah that’s not the same thing…” Paul trailed off. “But I’m desperate. So if you’re up for it… you’d be doing me a huge favour. I’ll pay you of course.”

“Yeah, alright. Just tell me where and when.” Robert said after a beat, feeling like he’d missed half the conversation and had no idea what he just agreed to.

Paul’s bar turned out to be one of the most popular gay bars in the city, and Robert quickly found out a lot of his customers liked blond men with a ‘cute’ English accent.

In the three hours he’d been there, he’d gotten more free drinks, proposals (mostly indecent) and phone numbers than ever before.

Paul seemed happy and Robert himself had to admit he was enjoying himself. Even if he wasn’t interested in taking any of the guys up on their offer, the attention was a nice ego boost.

“Could you collect some empty glasses?” Paul asked him around midnight. “We have a drag show starting in half an hour and if they have an empty glass in their hand they won’t order anything.”

“Sure.” Robert grabbed a tray and started moving through the crowd and picking up empty glasses and bottles from tables.

“Hey mate do you know if there’s any jobs going – Robert?”

Someone had tapped Robert on the shoulder and when he’d turned around, he’d come face to face with just about the last person he’d expected to see.

“Aaron?” he shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You’re supposed to be in prison for another twelve years.”

“I… I got out.”

“I can see that.” Aaron replied. “How? What did you do? I thought you weren’t going to appeal because it wouldn’t make a difference?”

“I didn’t appeal.”

“Then what happened? Did the English legal system suddenly decide fourteen years were over in two?”

Robert shook his head.

“No. It’s uh… it’s a long story.”

Aaron sighed.

“It always is with you.” He looked Robert up and down, and noticed the bar logo on his shirt. “You work here now?”

“No. Yes. I… I don’t know. I do tonight I guess.” Robert told him. “I sort of got roped into helping out my… cousin I guess. Paul. Val’s son. Diane’s nephew. He owns this place.”

Aaron nodded slowly.

“Right. Does he need an extra pair of hands?”

“You?”

“Why not? I can pull a pint.”

“Right. Yeah. Of course you can.” Robert said and looked around for Paul, but only saw a frustrated Gabriel walking towards him.

“Robert, por favor! I need you to work!”

“Gabriel, this is Aaron, my… uh… I know him from back home. He wants to help out.”

Gabriel turned to look at Aaron.

“Do you have experience working in a bar?”

“My mother owns a pub. I used to help out from time to time.”

“Perfect. You’re hired. Robert will show you where everything is.” Gabriel said and walked away, muttering Paul’s name under his breath along with what Robert was pretty sure were swearwords.

“Right… I uh… follow me I guess.” He told Aaron and took him to the back where Paul had given him a shirt with the bar logo earlier that night. “I uh don’t exactly know where everything is… I only started here a few hours ago.”

“I guess we’ll just have to figure it out together. We’ve always been good at that.” Aaron said and the two of them walked back into the bar.

After a short while of figuring out where to find everything, it was like they were back in their kitchen back in Emmerdale or helping out behind the bar in the Woolpack together. They moved around each other like they’d worked together for years.

Robert supposed in a way they had.

“Thanks for helping out guys.” Paul said after the last guests had left, a few hours later. He took some cash from the till and handed them both their share. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“No problem.” Robert replied. “You’re family right? We help each other.”

“And this place is great. I don’t suppose you need anyone full time, do you?” Aaron asked.

“I suppose I could use some extra hands for now at least… Can you be here tonight at 8?”

“Absolutely.”

“You too Robert?”

“Uh… sure.”

“Great. You guys are life savers.” Paul said patting both of them on the shoulder. “How do you know each other again?”

“Robert and I go way back.” Aaron said, more to Robert than Paul.

They left Paul and Gabriel to close up the club and just as Robert was trying to figure out how to get back to Diane’s, Aaron stepped in front of him.

“So… want to explain now how you’re out twelve years before you’re supposed to without appealing?” he asked. “Did you escape and are you hiding out here now?”

Robert looked at him and saw the hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Why does everyone assume I escaped? Liv said the same thing!” he said in mock exasperation.

“You’ve seen Liv?”

“Yeah. I’ve been out a few weeks. Just before my birthday. Vic picked me up and took me back to Emmerdale.”

Aaron nodded.

“How is she? Liv I mean.”

“She’s… alright. Sober. And Vinny is looking out for her.” Robert told him, leaving out the detail of them getting married. Liv could tell him that herself.

“Right. Good. That’s good.” Aaron cleared his throat. “Things weren’t going too well between us when I left…”

“She told me. Maybe you should text her sometime… to catch up.”

Aaron nodded again and Robert could tell exactly when he decided to change the subject again.

“Speaking of catching up… if you didn’t escape and didn’t appeal… what happened?”

“Do you want the long story or the short story?”

“The full story.”

“Ok.”

They started walking through the city and ended up in the harbour, walking along the empty quay.

“Well…” Aaron pushed when Robert didn’t say anything.

“I’m just… trying to figure out where to begin.”

“When did you know you were getting out?”

“Not long ago… a few weeks before I actually got out. That happened pretty quickly actually.”

“Right.”

“I… I… It was sometime last summer. I think. My solicitor suddenly showed up saying my case had been reopened because of new evidence.”

“What kind of evidence?”

“Luke Posner growing a conscience.”

“What?”

“He made a statement saying he’d fought with his brother the same day I hit him and that he’d hit his head and lost consciousness for a while.”

“Ok… but we knew that already. And Vic said that wouldn’t make a difference… because you’d plead guilty.”

“Yeah… that’s what I thought too… but Wendy apparently signed off on his body being exhumed and re-examined… and the results were inconclusive.”

“Right. What does that mean?”

“That they couldn’t be sure it was me that delivered the fatal blow or if he’d been a ticking time bomb and would have ended up in hospital any way.” Robert told him. “My sentence was reduced from murder to GBH with intend, but then my lawyer argued they couldn’t prove that either and in the end it was dropped down to common assault. Because I admitted to hitting him. But that’s only six months or a fine… so I got out on time served.”

“I… wow. That’s… a lot.”

“Yeah. You’re telling me.”

“And how did you end up here then? Family reunion?”

“Something like that. Vic wanted to come here to see Diane… and dragged me and David and the kids along.”

“Diane lives here?”

“Yeah. She moved here a few months ago.”

They chatted for a while, Robert filling Aaron in on life in the village and Aaron telling him about some of the things he and Adam had gotten up to since they’d met up.

Robert felt himself get tired and sat down on a wall by the water, legs dangling over the edge.

“So… I heard you went out with a kayak instructor.” He started when Aaron sat down next to him. “I heard what happened. Poor guy. There is a picture of him up at the Hide as a memorial. He seemed nice.”

“Hmm…” Aaron just said, staring out at the water. “You would have hated him.” He said after a pause. “He would have hated you.”

Robert shrugged.

“I seem to have that effect on people.”

Aaron shook his head and Robert saw the smile tugging at his lips.

“He was a good guy really. Nice. Uncomplicated. We used to go to school together actually. Back when I lived with Sandra.”

“Childhood romance?”

“Hardly.” Aaron snorted. “I bullied him for being gay.”

“Wow. Really? And I thought we were a mess.”

“We got past it eventually. He was… nice.” Aaron shrugged. “We were going to move to Newquay together. He got a job there… it was supposed to be our fresh start.”

“But then…”

“Yeah.” Aaron nodded. “I never even went to his funeral or anything. I never went to say goodbye.”

“Did you love him?” Robert asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

“I… I thought I did…” Aaron said after a long pause. “I even told him I did… but…” he bit his lip. “I don’t think I ever loved anyone like I love you.” He looked up at Robert. “No-one else comes close.”

Robert smiled.

“That’s my line.”

“It’s true though. I tried to forget you and move on… and maybe if Ben had lived and we’d have moved… I could have been happy with him… but I know what true love feels like… and that wasn’t it. I think I could have been… satisfied. But it would never have been what you and I had.”

“Until I threw it all away.”

“Yeah. I… understand why you did it. I think.”

“I didn’t want you to put your life on hold for me for that long. Or however long. You deserved to live. Still do.”

Aaron nodded.

“I’m trying.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Are you going back home?”

“I don’t know.” Robert shrugged. “I guess so. To get full custody of Seb. Vic is his guardian now.”

“He’s here?”

“Yeah. The whole family is.” Robert pulled his phone out of his pocket and Aaron recognised it as the same one he’d had when they were together. “Can you believe this thing still works?” He swiped through his camera roll and pulled up a picture of him and Seb on the swings in the village from about a week ago.

“Wow. He’s gotten so big. I haven’t seen him in so long… Rebecca wouldn’t let him come over.”

They talked about Seb for a while, laughing over things he’d said and done, and looking through pictures on Robert’s phone, until the tiredness started to kick in, just as the city was starting to wake up.

“It’s almost 6am. We pulled an all-nighter.” Robert said as Aaron rubbed his face to wake himself up.

“Been a while since we’ve done that.”

“Before I went away.”

“That video game marathon you insisted on.”

“That you were more than happy to go along with.”

Aaron laughed.

“I seem to remember I beat you though.” He bumped his shoulder against Robert’s. “We had some good times, didn’t we?”

“Best years of my life.” Robert vowed. “You made me happier than I’d ever been. You gave me the courage to be myself… you gave me a family. You loved me for me. I’ll never forget that.”

Aaron looked him in the eye, glanced down at his lips, and met his eyes again.

“Aaron?”

He didn’t say anything but moved his hand up to Robert’s face and stroked his cheek.

“It’s weird seeing you with a beard… but it suits you.” He looked up and ran his hand through Robert’s hair. “The longer hair too.”

“You think so?” Robert asked, afraid to move and break the spell.

“Yeah…” he moved his hand to the back of Robert’s neck and lightly brushed his thumb up and down. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too. More than you’ll ever know.”

Aaron gave him a sleepy smile and pulled him closer until they were practically sharing one breath. They stayed like that for a moment until he leaned forward and pressed a barely there kiss to Robert’s lips.

They pulled back to look at each other and smiled before leaning back in for more.

He’d dreamed of feeling Aaron’s lips on his own for so long, Robert could barely believe it was happening.

“I feel like I’m dreaming.” He said when they broke the kiss.

Aaron smiled at him.

“Me too. But it’s the best dream I’ve had in a long time.”

They kissed and held each other close while they watched the sun rise over the harbour and the city woke up around them.

The quay was getting busier with people going to work and going about their daily routines.

“We should go…” Robert said and got up while Aaron did the same. “How do you feel about a family breakfast? You, me, and Seb?” he asked, not wanting their time together to end.

Aaron smiled and took his hand.

“Sounds perfect.”

[finelinevogue]

Can you expand on that topic of Harry buying that island for Y/N to conserve like you touched upon on the 73 questions thing you wrote please?

oooh yes!! i didn’t think this would be something that people would bring up but i’m excited to talk about it!! enjoy;

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 3 weeks

“What about this one?”

The same question Anne and Harry had been repeating for the last two hours. Neither Anne or Harry could decide on an island that they both thought you would absolutely love - an island that Harry would buy somewhere new for you to conserve and protect, for future family vacations and eventually potentially even retire to, whenever that day may come.

He had originally thought about purchasing a large plot of land along the coastline of Italy, because it had always captured a special place in Harrys heart. He loved the people, the culture, the weather, the food and he loved you when you’re bathing in the Italian sun. The boot-shaped country was the one in which you and Harry had spent your first holiday together. It was where you’d had your honeymoon. It was where, you’re pretty sure, that Oli was conceived. It held so many precious memories, so you both thought it time to make the country more permanent in your lives and purchase a house over there.

Unfortunately, due to coronavirus, Harry wasn’t able to physically go anywhere and house, or island, hunt - especially with a 3 week old baby. Belle had been born on October 2nd and she was an absolute angel - as happy as can be. Oli and Fix were currently looking after her, whilst Anne and Harry sorted through the mess of trying to organise the gift of a lifetime for you. Luckily you were out with a friend, shopping for baby clothes and a little something for yourself, for the day so Harry could complete his surprise in secret. Harry already held property in Malibu, New York, Japan, London and Manchester. He, until recently, had an apartment in San Fransisco, but he never used it and so the money that he got from selling that was going to be spent buying an island for you.

He always remembers one of the first conversations that he ever had with you and it was about how you wanted to change the world. You’d answered “I think i’d buy my own island and start conserving the planet one bit of land at a time, until I save it all!” Now obviously you were being very optimistic and silly with your dreams, but that’s all you thought they’d be - dreams. Harry was willing to make them a reality though. Okay, perhaps not world domination but he could start small and give you the thing you’d dreamt of even as a little girl.

“Mum—” Harry sighed, knowing he would reject it just like all the other ones she’d picked out for being either, too small, too big, too dangerous, too humanised. He didn’t care about price, he just wanted to get it right. He looked over to her computer, seeing what she’d found and brought up on her screen. “Shit, wait…”

This was it.

“Mhm?” Anne smiled knowingly.

“Give me details.” Harry asked her, pulling over his notepad and pen to jot down key information. He wasn’t planning on buying today, but he was planning on making inquiries so if he thought something needed negotiating then at least he’d have the information to hand.

“Okay, um,” she looked over the screen. Harry had only seen glimpses of the the island from the photos but even now he was fully invested in it, “it’s in Phuket, Thailand. Minimally developed on. 110 acres, but you know…”

“Could lessen due to climate change, yeah.” Harry noted and looked to his mum to see if she was continuing or not.

“They are allowing an income potential so you could build and make profit from it. Then again the island itself is $160 million so it’s going to be 7018 before you even start making a profit.” Anne joked, but Harry sighed. “What, love?”

“$160 million.” Harry pondered, thinking whether this is all worth it. It’s a huge investment and potential waste of money, but it was for you.

“You’re a near billionaire Harry. What else are you going to do with all your money? You could build back half of that money just from releasing a new album with no promotion. Imagine if you released a documentary or something too. You work hard, Harry, and you will continue to, so is it so wrong to treat yourself to something nice?”

“It’s not for me, though.”

“Well then, there’s the question you to need to ask yourself.” Harry looked at his mum quizzically before she responded. “Is Y/N worth it?”

Well that was a stupid question.

“Looks like Y/Ns getting her island after all.” Harry grinned so wide, feeling so happy that he was doing this for you. You deserved this so much. Yes it was a bloody huge investment and risk, if Harry was being honest with himself, but you were ridiculously worth it. So much so that he would have bought the island even if it were double that price. Harry sighed in relief and slouched back on the chair, thinking about how happy you’re going to be when you find out. Obviously there was so much paperwork and calls that needed to be made, so it was going to take some time, but to see your face at the end of this was going to be so worth it.

“Cuppa tea then?” Anne asked, slinking out of the chair and standing up.

“Yeah, go on—” The sounds of rattling keys and the front door opening broke Harry’s sentence, making him look up at his mum in panic. Time had flew by so quickly that he’d not even realised you could’ve actually been home anytime now.

Shit, you were home.

“Quick mum, help me hide all this. Wait mum, you’re going to have to sneak out the back because Y/Ns going to have too many questions otherwise!” Harry shot up from the kitchen table and started to gather bits of paper and close the laptops down. Luckily Harry was using his work laptop and Anne had brought her own so they didn’t have to worry about clearing browser history.

“What and you can’t just say you were hanging out with your ol’ mum?” Anne asked, laughing as she packed up her stuff because she knew just how demanding and stubborn her son was.

“I love you and call me when you get home safely okay?” Harry asked, chivying her out of the back door quietly and pecking her cheeks in thanks for everything she’s done for him today.

“Alright. Love you!”

Okay, act normal Harry.

“Mummy!” You heard Oli shout from the other room. You furrowed your eyebrows as you entered the house, dropping off your shoes and bags at the door before heading into the living room, where you knew you’d find the kids.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking around the room to see everything was in order. In fact, your heart melted at the sight of the siblings. Oli was sat upright against the sofa and had his baby sister laying on top of his stomach with hers, and Fix was sat just to the side of them - patting his sisters back rhythmically. It was a sight for sore eyes.

“Baby Belle just smiled.” Oli beamed brightly and you smiled back at him. Even though it was slightly irrelevant of him to shout for you because of this, you couldn’t help but awe over the fact the siblings were so loving for one another.

“Did she now?” You took out your phone to take a few pictures of them. “Smile again for mummy then, all of you.” You giggled as Fix pulled the cheesiest smile and Oli did his signature smile too - no teeth and raised eyebrows so high to the sky. You even caught a golden photo where Belle was slightly smiling too. “Are you okay in here still?”

You didn’t want to feel like you were abandoning your kids, because you would never, but you needed just a day to yourself to rejuvenate and help overcome the post-natal depression slowly. As much as you so very much loved them, it was hard for you sometimes. Belle was going to be sleeping for at least another hour, so you weren’t too worried about her. Oli and Fix were ever so sensible too, simply watching Teen Titans on Cartoon Network whilst they babysat their sister. You were only a shout away if something were to happen, which made you wonder where Harry was.

“Yes mummy.” Fix nodded his head whilst keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

“Everything all right in here?” Harry’s voice came from behind you, but you’r felt his presence a lot sooner before that. He stood behind you, peering into the room to check everything was in order.

God, you’d missed him today.

“Yeah, Oli tell daddy why you called me.”

“Baby Belle smiled daddy!” Oli retold the story just as animatedly as the first time, but keeping as still as he could so not to disturb his sister.

“Did she now? You must’ve made her happy then.” Harry slunk one of his hands around your waist and squeezed the pudge that had situated there. He absolutely loved the way you’d become curvier after giving birth. He said it gave him a bit extra of you to love on, to which you always cried at the words because he never failed to make you feel so beautiful.

“I try daddy.”

“I try too.” Felix added, obviously wanting his dad to know he wasn’t not helping in taking care of Belle.

“Good boys. Proud of you both.” They both smiled after their dads words, “Now you both behave and look after Baby Belle whilst I go make mummy a cup of tea okay?”

“But come back, daddy.” They both replied and you gave them a final warm smile, before making your way to the kitchen to make a warm, milky, beverage.

“Nice day?” Harry asked, following you into the kitchen. His hand was placed lowly on your back and guided you into the room.

“Lovely, thanks. Just missed you all.” You sighed and turned around to kiss him in the middle of the kitchen. Your lips moulded to his perfectly and he tasted so sweet, you probably so sour from your lemonade you’d had earlier.

“Miss you always.” Harry murmured against your lips and then pulled away, not before giving you and extra peck though.

You walked over to the kettle and switched it on, whilst Harry collected the mugs from the cupboard you were too small to reach. He picked out one with the letter H on and one with the letter of your first name on, knowing that you’d drink from each others letters as always.

“Been busy today?” You asked, dropping teabags into the cups and leaning against the counter side as you waited for the kettle to take its’ boil.

“Kinda.” He smirked to himself, trying to dodge that question and any others you might have about the day. “Glad you’re back home though.” He walked to you and cupped the back of your head lightly, guiding your face up to his.

“Thank you for being my home.” You smiled at your cheesy comment and then lead your lips to his again.

“You are a dream, my love.” Harry said, looking deep into the eyes he could fall in love with all over again.

Just as you were about to touch lips with his you heard the wails of your tiny daughter and sighed in sync. You chuckled as you flopped your head onto Harry’s chest. As much as you wanted to stay and soak up all the love he was about to give you, your children were a priority - especially a crying baby.

“Well, your dream will have to wait hun.” You patted his chest before walking out of the room, Harry watching you go before whispering ever-so-carefully under his breath.

“But yours won’t.”