#the landlord takes one look at their outfit and goes “are you in the music industry?”

[pisshandkerchief]

are they. y'know. involved in the music industry

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing 

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true. 

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid. 

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’ 

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

 Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again. 

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist. 

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success. 

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch. 

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered. 

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business. 

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’ 

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened. 

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently. 

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate. 

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his. 

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

--

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself. 

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other. 

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second. 

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers. 

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted. 

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket. 

‘Hey, baby?’ 

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap. 

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase. 

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy. 

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time. 

‘Move in with me?’ 

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide. 

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled. 

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad. 

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

--

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came. 

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out. 

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned. 

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s. 

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek. 

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled. 

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening. 

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​ @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost

[novasintheroom]

Ooooo a fresh blog! Heyo there! So, my first request is some head canons, if you write them anyway, for the each of the turtles having a s/o who is usually the purest of beans. Like— she doesn’t get angry, usually shy when meeting new people, very humble, sweet and caring— but for the first time she does it’s like she realizes she’s frustrated and mad about something that happened during the day and it’s the first time she’s expressing it. the turtles notice her come in knowing something is off about her behavior when she’s usually so cheerful. Almost like “Sometimes it just makes me so— it makes me so... so...! Angry!” But she actually gets super surprised with herself realizing she’s actually venting just to say she’s fine in the end after bottling up for so long. The turtles just looking at her and asking if she’s okay 😂 If that makes any sense.. sorry if it doesn’t.

Oooooo my first ask!! I’m so nervous and excited! I think I got the gist of what you’re getting at. Thanks for sending this in, it means a lot to me! <3

Leo

·         Honestly caught off guard when you come in steaming

·         Your calm and sweetness is something he loves and looks forward to – it’s hard being the firm leader in his family when everyone pushes back, so you’re a pleasant break from the arguments and sassy remarks

·         Not today

·         It’s loud in the lair – Raph and Mikey are doing something with a basketball and hula hoop that’s got Raph raging and Mikey screaming, Donnie’s got a power tool going on the truck, and Splinter’s Celine Dion music is blaring to drown it all out while he works on pruning his plants

·         Leo’s up in the concrete rafters with a book, glancing down every other minute to make sure Raph doesn’t kill Mikey

·         He would have completely missed you coming in if Mikey hadn’t thrown the ball toward the entrance

·         You dodge the ball before it hits you, but instead of laughing it off like usual, you throw a dark look at his brothers and beeline toward the dojo.

·         Woah, that’s weird

·         Avoidance of his family = big red flag

·         You didn’t even say hi to him??

·         Hops down and follows, waving off Mikey’s calls to you

·         Finds you in the corner of the dojo, bag thrown to the side and hands smoothing out the sand of his small zen garden

·         Feels a bit awkward honestly

·         Listen, he’s getting better at it, but he’s not the best at feelings

·         Especially girl feelings

·         He knows something’s up though, and he wouldn’t be a good beau if he just let you simmer

·         Spooks you when he asks if you’re okay

·         Darn those ninja skills, how is someone as big as him so silent?

·         You sigh and just say you had a fight with your roommate and that it’s fine, you just needed some quiet before you went to his family

·         Okay, coolcoolcool. He can work with this. He and Raph fight all the time! “What was the fight about?”

·         Cue explosion

·         “She doesn’t pay her part of the bills on time, and she has her boyfriend over constantly and I can hear them through the walls when they’re screwing because the stupid cheap apartment has stupid cheap thin walls, and she leaves her dishes everywhere even when I ask her to not be a slob, and the landlord is getting after me for her rent when– “

·         W o w

·         He didn’t think you knew any swear words, but the names you’re calling your roommate would make even Raph blush

·         Your rant goes on and on

·         Anytime he tries to suggest a solution you get angry at him like why can’t he just listen omg

·         He shuts up quick

·         Somewhere in the process he sat down and your head moved to his lap while you laid all your problems out

·         By the time you’re finished your chest is heaving and it’s been an hour

·         Leo’s scared to say something in case you go off again lmao

·         He just plays with your hair and hums while you calm down

·         Finally you look at him with wide eyes, “Wow, geez, I didn’t think I was that mad.”

·         He can’t help but laugh, “Me neither.”

·         Your smile is back, though, and that’s the best thing he’s seen all day

·         “You feeling better now?”

·         You say yes, and give him a good hug and kiss as thanks for his patience

·         He asks you to come to him if things start building up again

·         Seriously, start talking to him – I don’t think the poor guy can handle another explosion like that lol

 Raph

·         Raph knows anger

·         Does he know how to deal with it? Ehhh that’s hit-and-miss

·         But he knows it

·         So seeing your tense shoulders, clenched fists, grinding teeth when you walk in – he knows you’re angry

·         It’s a bit off-putting tbh – you’re the calm to his rage, the quiet touch to wind him down when something gets under his skin

·         What happened to make his quiet girl so mad?

·         Did someone say something about your family?

·         Or something about your outfit?

·         Did a skeevy guy try to touch you?

·         Did someone try to kiss you?

·         Okay, now he’s getting mad

·         Decides to take a page from Splinter’s book and pulls you aside to talk

·         “What’s the matter?”

·         You pull at your sleeves, looking anywhere but him

·         You just mumble you’re fine, and that you’re hungry and try to move to the kitchen

·         Nuh-uh, that don’t work with him

·         Catches you by the arm and gives you a look, “Somethin’s bothering you, and you’re gonna tell me what it is.”

·         “And what if I don’t wanna talk about it?”

·         “Tough luck.”

·         Your glare could curdle milk, but you don’t say anything

·         Alright, you wanna play it that way? He’s got three brothers he grew up with; he can get it out of you.

·         Hauls you up and tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and takes you to his workout station

·         Ignores your screams of outrage and the beating fists on his shell

·         They’re like little kitten paw pats; he can’t help but smile at how small you really are

·         When he sets you down in front of a world-weary punching bag, he crosses his arms and waits

·         You’re red faced and snarling. “What are you doing?”

·         He raises a fist, and gives the bag a good punch – “That’s for when Mikey backwashed into my water bottle today.” He throws another punch, “And that’s for Donnie’s stupid snorts waking me up last night,” and another, “and now I’m back on Mikey’s backwash!”

·         He stops the bag’s swaying and gestures for you to take a turn

·         Realization dawns in your eyes. You look at your fist and throw a pathetic punch at it. “That’s…for my fifth plant…dying this week?”

·         He almost laughs, but nods encouragement

·         You punch again. “That’s for whoever stole my lunch out of the fridge at work.”

·         And again. “And for those kids who spit on that homeless guy!”

·         And again. “And for Gina’s face when she made fun of my teeth!”

·         Punch after punch, you let out your anger and frustrations that boiled over today

·         Raph’s impressed – not just with how much crap happened to you, but how long you held it in

·         You’re a lot stronger than he gave you credit for

·         He’s also a bit freaked at seeing the rage in your eyes

·         Is that what others see when he comes at them?

·         Yeesh

·         You feel a lot better after the session, if sheepish for letting so much anger show

·         But he brushes it off, “Hey, you see how I am. It don’t bother me none, sweetheart.”

·         He pinches your butt for good measure as you walk back to the lair and laughs when you punch him in the arm

 Donnie

·         The one that takes the longest to realize something’s up

·         He can’t help it! He’s busy making sure his family is safe and hidden! He’s gotta keep the firewall up-to-date from all the new viruses being put out, check the perimeter lasers so that no one sneaks up on them, change the oil in the Turtle Tank, and why is the computer sparking over here, he needs to ask Raph or Leo to come with him to get new parts at the junkyard, but if he –

·         Bumps into you and is like ‘oh. how’d you get in here’

·         Delighted to see you though! It’s like all his worries suddenly vanished when he realized ‘oh yeah! I have a girlfriend!’ and that’s you!

·         Missed you a lot since it’s been a few days since you could visit

·         Starts showing you all of the progress he’s made on certain things, asks you how school’s going, how was that group project you had, did you get that interview for work?

·         It’s your clipped and short answers that finally makes him take a step back and really see how you’re doing

·         You’ve always been enthusiastic about his inventions, even if you don’t completely understand every technical thing he talks about. He thought you guys were past the awkward conversations too.

·         Clipped answers are a big no-no – it makes him shrink inside, like his words and ideas don’t matter

·         Takes a few seconds to look you over – awkward seconds, ones where you look down and away and not at him

·         “Are you alright? Did…something happen?”

·         You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, but then the words just start pouring out: “I’m sorry, it’s just, I can’t stop thinking about how my supervisors treated me the past few days. They scheduled me to work a triple shift! Without asking me! And I told them I had a date with you, and a million other things to do, but – “

·         You lay it out for him, apologizing every other minute for just putting this on him out of the blue, that you tried really hard to be happy coming to the lair but your boss just text you that you have another shift tonight instead of getting to hang out with Donnie, and –

·         Donnie sits you both down in a couple of chairs, his hands holding your own as you keep talking and venting

·         Rubs circles into your palm, eyes never straying from your own watery and frustrated ones

·         A breath out of the nose is the end to your rant, and you lean to put your head on his shoulder. “I just hate when people spring things on me! I just wanna stay with you and hand you tools to work on stuff.”

·         His heart warms at this, even if he’s sad at how sucky your job is

·         And it gives him an idea

·         He manages to hack into your work’s scheduling system and put your supervisors or fellow employees in your place for the night

·         Even sends out a text masked as your head boss to whoever he put, letting them know they’re on the job and that you had an emergency

·         You’re torn on this – those people had things they had to do too

·         But Donnie reassures you: “If they’re as bad as you say, then getting more people mad at them might just make them change. If not, we at least get to have our date night, right?”

·         Well, when you put it that way…

·         He gets a big, long smooch for pulling it off and for listening to you

Mikey

·         Listen, this boy is intuitive when it comes to emotions.

·         He kinda has to be with the type of older brothers he has lmao

·         Instantly knows something’s up by the sound of your feet coming down the tunnels – heavy, like you want to stomp them but don’t know how

·         He’s geared up though – his baby girl’s coming!

·         Hops off the couch and has the biggest grin for you when you walk in

·         Doesn’t even falter when he sees the glower on your face

·         Says something stupid to test the waters – “Woah, babe, I’m gonna have to call the cops – I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to be as fine as you are!”

·         Not even a smirk.

·         Okay okay. Obvi you’re not in a happy mood.

·         Man, he was hoping for a little blush at least!

·         Takes that heavy bag off your shoulders you’ve been lugging around all day and corrals you back to the couch

·         Grabs some sodas and a few chocolate bars from his hidden stash in the kitchen

·         He knows you need it more than him right now

·         Sits down and calls out to the lair that “we’re making out on the couch!!” Def keeps his family from coming in and interrupting lol

·         Isn’t even phased when you explode about your day – your coworker had it out for you, your professor told the whole class that your paper was what not to do if you wanted a good grade, etc. etc.

·         Mikey accents your day with “No!” and “He didn’t!” and “What a jerk!”

·         It’s cathartic to hear someone agree with you like that

·         He takes you in his arms when the frustrated tears start falling and you start to wind down

·         “It just makes me so angry, and I hate feeling embarrassed and…”

·         Rubs circles on your back to help calm you, just like his family did to him growing up

·         After a minute you’re better, and back to your sweet, happy self, if still a bit stuffy from the tears and snot

·         You’re surprised and apologize for your emotions, but he stops you

·         “Hey, everyone has their bad days! Sometimes you just gotta let it out, y’know?”

·         You give him a big kiss for being so sweet

·         Makes the day a lot better after that with the soda and candy and some video games

·         He’s a good turt <3

[perfeggso]

I don’t want a lot (Johnny x Reader)

I wrote this as part of @suh-insane’s walking in a winter wonderland collab, so thanks to her for hosting! Happy holidays and I hope y’all enjoy ❄️☺️

Genre: domestic fluff

Characters: Johnny, fem! reader, Ten

Warnings: nothing really just mentions of bad things that have happened this year lol. It’s a very...2020 fic. Also I guess some language. Also, smoking pot.

Rating: teen and up

Length: 3.5k

My movie quote is “They can’t evict you on Christmas! Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

December 18th 2020, 4:37 p.m.

“Knock, knock!” You pound your fist against the wooden door in front of you, then pull your coat tighter around you. You’d moved to Chicago five years ago for college, and you’re still not sure if you’ll ever adjust to the snowy winter months. It was at said college that you met,

“Johnny Suh!” You bang a fist on the door three more times. “I know you’re in there. Take your headphones off, you dumbass.”

You’re about to pull your phone out of your pocket and go to the trouble of removing a glove to text your boyfriend when you hear the door unlock from the inside, a metallic tumbling sound.

When the door opens all the way, Johnny is standing just past the threshold of his apartment, his catlike lips curled up at the edges. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and a blue flannel, and his freshly dyed blond hair falls to where his headphones rest around the base of his neck. You can hear Nirvana coming from them because you are dating a stereotype.

Johnny leans his large frame against the side of the door where he had been holding it and smirks, but there’s nothing but softness behind the expression.

“Long time no see, sicko,” he teases.

You roll your eyes as he moves to let you pass into the entryway of his and Ten’s shoebox dwelling.

“You look even more like a deadbeat than you did a month ago,” you say, not moving because your clothing is starting to drip melting snow onto the floor and you don’t even know where to begin with taking it off. “This is proof you need me around taking care of you.”

Johnny pushes off the door and closes it, pausing his music. He crowds close and starts unwrapping your scarf so you don’t have to think about it anymore, shakes some of the slush off it so it pools at your feet, and hangs it on the coat rack. He does the same with your puffer jacket.

“Aw,” he pouts, “you don’t like the new color?” He tries to remove your beanie too, but it was part of your Outfit, so you yank it back down onto your head and give Johnny puppy dog eyes, choosing to ignore the way your heart rate picks up a little from the proximity. Hey, isolation was rough, okay? Johnny tucks your hair behind your ears instead.

“No, baby,” you say, starting to toe off your snow boots. “I love it. It’s very Disney prince, but simultaneously very… Kurt Cobain.” Johnny smiles and lets you finish stripping your winter gear, walking his way back towards his sofa until he’s sitting, legs wide. Snow falls in flurries past the window behind him. “It’s just that, I dunno, you look like you’ve been spending more time on Reddit or something.” Johnny sulks jokingly at your ribbing as you hang up your purse and try not to fixate on how cold the indoor air still is. “I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while,” you continue. “Oh wait! I forgot you have Ten around for that.”

Now it’s Johnny who’s rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t seem too offended because he beckons you over to sit with him. You follow his gesture, skipping towards him until you can curl into his side on the couch. He removes his headphones and lays his head against the crown of yours, taking your hand softly.

“It’s not my fault my girlfriend abandoned me for a month,” he complains, rubbing his thumb over yours.

This makes you chuckle. Oh, how you’ve missed him. “If that’s what you call ‘considerately protecting you from the Novel Coronavirus’,” you joke, “then I guess, but I refuse to apologize for doing my civic duty.”

Your case hadn’t been bad, but it was a logistical nightmare. You’d spent two weeks in total isolation, nursing a cough, guzzling hard alcohol straight to see if you could taste it, sending your best friend out to shop for you, and thanking your lucky stars for having a job that would let you work from home. You’d spent the next two waiting to test negative for the virus and a positive for antibodies. Johnny was initially distraught when you told him, sending you cloying messages and calling everyday to see if your symptoms were getting better or worse. Once you’d convinced him you weren’t dying though, he went back to his usual obnoxious self, joking about planning your funeral and accusing you of faking it to avoid him.

Johnny pulls you tighter into his side. “Whatever,” he concedes. “Is it safe to kiss you yet?”

You look up at him and shrug. “Nothing’s 100% but…”

That’s all the reassurance he needs to pull you into his lap and connect your lips. It's soft and languid, and you hold each other through it. His arms are so solid around your waist it simultaneously makes your heart flutter and makes you feel like you could relax and take a nap right here and now. When you pull away, Johnny runs his hands along your figure, as if to reassure himself you’re really there. The smile he gives you glows, but only for a moment. You curl yourself into the crook of his neck and place the back of your hand on his cheek, tender. His skin there scratches yours just the tiniest bit.

“I missed you,” he says, chuckling.

“Mm-hm, I missed you too,” you reply. “How are you, anyway? You said you had something to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says. He maneuvers you off his lap to sit by his side, and from this angle you can truly tell that he’s going sheepish. Suddenly it feels like there’s an alien hand in your stomach. What could this possibly be about? Johnny’s nervous silence gets your brain spinning – a zoetrope of stupidity. Am I being broken up with? No – obviously not. Does he have a family member dying of COVID? I fucking hope not; that’d be complicated on multiple levels. Maybe it’s good? Maybe he finally got a job offer but he has to move away or something.

Johnny starts talking before your mind can come up with any other ridiculous hypotheses.

“We’re getting evicted.”

You furrow your brow. Had you misheard him? You shake your head, incredulous. Johnny and Ten had always maintained a good relationship with their landlord. It didn’t make sense for everything to turn on a dime, even if they were struggling financially.

“You’re kidding,” is all you manage to say.

Johnny just purses his lips and raises his eyebrows as if to say, “it is what it is.”

What he really says is that he wishes he was kidding, but he’s not.

“Oh my god,” you respond, crossing your arms in irritation at, well, at everything lately. “Fuck! When is this happening?”

Johnny sighs. “Technically in a week.”

You feel the cogs of your post-COVID brain start to crank against each other. A week from today would be…hold on,

“Wait,” you say, as the situation starts to appear more and more ridiculous. “Like exactly a week from today? Like on Christmas? You’re being evicted on literal Christmas?” You’re trying really hard not to raise your voice, even if it’s clear that if you did, it would be out of indignation on Johnny’s behalf. You’re obviously not upset with him.

Johnny’s eyes roll around in their sockets as if this is the first time he’s contemplated the exact timing.

“Well, yeah, I guess a week from today is Christmas…”

The absurdity of this all is getting to you, and you can’t help it, you start to laugh. It’s that kind of nihilistic, fuck-all laughter that’s been one of the few things getting you through this year.

“They can’t evict you on Christmas!” you quote. “Then you’d be ho-ho-homeless!”

Johnny looks at you blankly for a second, so you contort your face into that open expression universally recognized as the “get it?” face.

“From Go?” You hint. “C’mon, Johnny boy.”

And before his nickname can fully escape your mouth, your boyfriend is cutting you off with a long sound of recognition and doubling over his lap in giggles.

“Good one,” he says into his right knee, and you giggle along with him. “Wholly inappropriate, but clever nonetheless.”

“Why, thank you,” you say, enjoying the levity, but unable to uproot the feeling of dread in your gut at Johnny’s conundrum.

Go is one of you and Johnny’s favorite movies to watch around Christmastime, mostly because it’s only tangentially related to Christmas, it’s kitschy and ridiculous, and has a plot that is 90% crime. You’re surprised he didn’t catch the reference more quickly, but to his credit, he has more pressing worries taking up mental space.

“Where is Ten, anyway?” you ask, looking around performatively at the messy and claustrophobic room. A silver plastic Christmas tree twinkles on a table in the corner. “Have you two talked about a plan yet?”

“He’s grocery shopping,” Johnny explains. “He’ll be home soon. And yeah, we have an idea.”

“You do? Because you could always move in with me.”

Johnny scrunches his face up. “I would love to live with you.” Your heart rattles a little in excitement, even though you know there will be a ‘but.’ Johnny goes on, “but you know both of us wouldn’t fit in your apartment. Where would Ten sleep? Or put his stuff? We’d all be on top of each other.”

You nod, defeated because you know he’s right.

“Hey,” Johnny says, “but we can always have the ‘moving in’ conversation again, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing his hand. “Sounds good.”

It suddenly feels very dark in the apartment (it’s still chilly enough you think you might be able to see your breath, but you aren’t about to complain because you know there’s a very good reason for that), so Johnny pushes himself up off the couch to turn on a couple of lamps.

“So,” he says, facing you from across the room, “we’re gonna be evicted on Christmas, no matter what the cinematographic masterpiece that is Go tells us is right or wrong. Christmas is just as much of a capitalist construction as our rent, after all.”

You’re about to pipe up again about how fucked that is and how surely they can come to some sort of agreement with the landlord, but Johnny anticipates this and keeps talking.

“We tried to argue, babe, but as I know you know, we don’t exactly have much of a leg to stand on.”

Johnny is right. Again. How many months behind were they on rent at this point? They’d gotten a few months delayed back in spring, but they still owed everything that built up from that before the end of the year, and they’d blown through their stimulus check a long time ago. Johnny has tried to find work, but the theater business hasn’t exactly been booming. Ten, for his part, is able to make a bit of money doing freelance illustration and teaching dance classes over Zoom from his room, but his studio’s engagement has dropped since March and he still unfortunately gets paid per student. You can’t help wanting to punch a wall in frustration at how unfair this all is, but it’s not like any of it comes as a shock. You’re not naïve. You and Johnny met at a leftist theory club for Christ’s sake.

“We’re helping organize a rent strike,” Johnny says, calming you down. Finally, a glimmer of hope. “We’re not the only ones in the building going through it right now, and we know a lot of the tenants who aren’t being evicted well enough we can convince them to join.”

Right then, the front door flies open and thwacks a startled Johnny in the back.

“I’m home!” Ten calls from behind a sack of groceries. You can’t even see his face yet. “I’m terribly sorry,” he directs at Johnny, then heaves the bag of food onto the kitchen counter which is also sort of in the middle of the living room.

“Ooh,” he coos when he sees you, still sat on the couch. “The missus is back!” He strips himself of his winter coat, ignoring your scoffing and revealing an oversized red and white striped sweater. He shimmies against the cool air and lets out a sort of squeal. “I was not built for this actual winter shit.”

“Hi, Ten,” you say once he finishes his theatrics. “Missed you.”

Ten shoots a sappy pout your way. “I miss you too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better! You have no idea how morose Johnny got without you constantly around. Can I give you a hug?”

You nod and try to warm up Ten’s tiny frame with yours while Johnny mutters something about Ten not knowing what “morose” means. When you break away, Johnny is rifling through the week’s haul to put things away.

“I see you didn’t go off-brand for the ramen,” Johnny remarks, stacking several Shin bowls in the cupboard. He turns to Ten with a raised brow. “Big spender.”

“They didn’t have anything else but if you would answer your damn phone I could have called and asked you about it.”

“I answer my phone,” Johnny grumbles, stowing some orange juice away in the fridge.

“Besides,” Ten continues, ignoring his roommate, “since I’m the only one making any money in this household I figured I’d give myself some discretion for spending it.”

Johnny grimaces, and you figure this is where you should probably step in.

“We were just talking about the rent strike, Ten. Johnny was filling me in.”

Ten turns his attention back to you, letting Johnny house the food items in peace.

“We’ll see how it goes,” says Ten, looking out the window just past your shoulder, “but I’m letting myself hope a little bit. As far as I’m concerned, they’ll be kicking my corpse out of here before they put me on the streets.”

Johnny scoffs. “Always so dramatic.”

“Says the former theater major.”

“Touché.”

You’d missed the ‘old married couple’ dynamic your boyfriend has with his roommate.

“But really, just, please try not to get the cops involved,” you plead. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” says Johnny as he closes the last cabinet and crinkles the brown paper bag up for storage.

Ten shrugs. “No promises.”

You sigh.

Once everything is good and settled a few moments later, Ten decides the apartment needs a more festive atmosphere, so that’s how you end up getting dragged down the short hallway to Johnny’s room while Ten belts Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” from the living room and accuses Johnny of being a scrooge. Even still, Johnny sways playfully from side to side as he walks backwards, shimmying his shoulders and mouthing the words with a smile between protestations that this is “not how I envisioned finally spending time again with my girlfriend!” The way he buries his hands into the sleeves of his flannel to make sweater paws makes your heart so full you want to curl up and die. But, moving on.

Once in his bedroom, Johnny flicks on a warm-hued lamp and watches fondly as you collapse on the bed.

“I really did miss you guys,” you say for what feels like the hundredth time in an hour.

Johnny’s lips press into a little smile. “Yeah. We missed you. A lot. Especially me – you have no idea.”

You laugh sardonically. “Based on your text messages, I think I actually do have an idea.”

Johnny flops down on top of you, crushing you a bit.

“Oh really?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. His golden hair is falling in your face and it tickles, but Johnny halts any laughter with a kiss, then dots tiny kisses all over your cheeks and nose. They tickle too.

“You wanna smoke?”

“Sure.”

Johnny has a pre-rolled joint on his bedside table, and you watch him light it, feeling like you’re in a snow globe with the fall of snowflakes outside. The sky is that weird greyish off-yellow that only comes with a snowy night.

After a couple of hits, Johnny lies back down next to you and hands you the joint. The smoke brings you that usual tight feeling, like your lungs are shrinking but at the same time swimming in radiant heat. You don’t know if you should technically be doing this right after COVID, but you’re young and your body is resilient; you figure you’ll be fine. Besides, you can already feel the pleasant lightness setting in around your mind. It’s a placebo at this point, no doubt, but the relaxed anticipation is nice. You take note of the fact that Johnny had started playing music while you were thinking about lungs. The Strokes’ “Under Control” is doing battle with Ten’s Christmas tunes still seeping in through the cracks in the door.

You hand Johnny his joint back and roll onto your side, supporting your head with one hand and curling the other into Johnny’s abundant hair.

“I just want to say one more time,” you begin, “if worse comes to worst, you can always move in with me.”

Johnny takes another hit and holds it for a second, leaving you in anticipation.

“I know,” he says simply. “But I really think this’ll work. I have to, right? Besides, if Ten had to hear us fucking multiple times a week we would all start to regret living together. That, I can promise.”

You laugh, burying your increasingly silly-feeling head into Johnny’s chest. “Okay, fair.”

There’s stillness for a few beats where you just count your and Johnny’s breaths, trying to synch them up. This doesn’t work though, since Johnny’s lungs are bigger. Then,

“There’s no way your parents would lend you some money?” Your voice comes out quiet. “Or let you stay with them for a while?”

Johnny looks down at you, letting out a heavy sigh. “No, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea for…so many reasons. Besides, they don’t exactly have an extra few months worth of Chicago rent lying around either.”

You nod against Johnny’s chest. “I figured,” you say. “Just checking.”

Johnny brushes his fingers through your hair and kisses your part. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, offering a slightly sly smile.

You kiss the white fabric of his undershirt. It’s been so long since the two of you just laid together, and it feels better than you could have hoped, Johnny’s body heat helping to alleviate some of the cold of an apartment gradually losing its utilities. You wish you could get closer than chest to chest. You kind of wish you could burrow into him, but not in a weird way, you know?

“I believe in you guys,” you say. “However I can help, I will.”

“Thanks.”

Apparently, Johnny is done with talking, because he pulls you in for a warm kiss. Then, he gets the brilliant idea to shotgun the pot smoke. This activity quickly devolves into a very giggly makeout session, only to be interrupted by Ten’s voice outside the door.

“I’m opening the door in five seconds, you guys,” he says, “and if Johnny’s dick is out when I get in there, I’m evicting both of you myself!”

You and Johnny fall together laughing as Ten cautiously cracks the door. He swats at the air in disapproval.

“Stinks…” he remarks. “Oh, thank god you’re decent. Anyway, John, if the lady is staying for the evening, you both need to come help cook dinner, because I am not your housemaid, even if I do look good in a maid costume. Chop-chop.”

It takes way too long to get up out of bed because Ten, as usual, has made both you and Johnny absolutely lose it. Eventually, you manage to rise, but Johnny pulls you quickly back against his lap.

“Hey!”

“Just a minute.” He presses one last kiss under your left ear. “I love you.”

You can feel your skin tingle, although it might just be the weed. Either way, you’ll never tire of hearing that. “I love you too, Johnny.”

“I think Mariah was right,” Johnny whispers, voice displaying mock awe as if he were coming to a mind blowing realization. “All I want for Christmas is you.”

You give him a sympathy chuckle because that was kind of cute, in a corny way, and Johnny just swats your ass a little in response to get you back up to standing.

“Well, you and some basic shelter would be ideal,” Johnny deadpans. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask but I guess we’ll see.” You smile sympathetically. This strike is no doubt going to make for a stressful week, but you’re glad it’s starting like this.

“Hey, love birds!” Ten hollers from the kitchen.

“C’mon,” you say with a laugh. “Let’s not leave him waiting any longer.”

[arch-venus25]

The Head and the Heart, Part 1

Hello everyone,

I am submitting this for @just-the-hiddles‘s The Damnit Jim, I’m A Vampire, Not A Landlord Fic Frenzy. I chose prompt “1....You can pay your rent in money or in blood.” I was inspired by all the prompts and will probably use them throughout the series. Basically I use the prompts as guide-lines.

This is the first time I have written and shared a fic online-- or ever really! It’s also the first time I’ve written anything modern so please let me know what you think! I hope I’m posting this correctly--I created the title art--LOL I’ve never done this before. I’m aiming to update the series each Tuesday. So here we go... 

Series Masterlist: The Head and The Heart

Summary: The twins are taking a night off from their graduate studies-- or at least Tessa is; her twin sister, Antha, is just trying to keep her out of trouble. What starts as a night of good old-fashioned fun and flirting quickly changes as they find themselves at the doorstep of the Hollow House Bed and Breakfast.

Characters: OFCs Antha and Tessa King, original characters/vampires

WARNINGS: 18+ for suggestive themes and violence, cursing, implied drug use, implied rape, stressful/scary situations, vampires, and characters with incredible hair-- you’ve been warned. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 2770

Part One: Faced with Foolishness

         “Well, you know Tessa, she’s being Tessa,” Antha murmured into her phone as she watched her twin sister cozy up to her flavor of the month; Tessa flipped her box braids off her shoulder, the beaded ends flirtatiously tinkling against every surface they met. As if watching a photo negative version of herself, Antha mourned her nonexistent reputation. Had she not spent years hiding in her books she may have been able to rival her uninhibited doppelganger in white hot-pants.

        “Why do you let her do this to you? It never goes as planned, and next thing you know I’ll be cleaning you two up and feeding you McDonald’s at two thirty in the morning!” She didn’t need facetime to picture Doug wincing through the phone, pushing his Buddy Holly styled Ray-Bans up the bridge of his nose.

        “So what you’re saying is how could I let Tessa do this to you?” She laughed, rolling her Havana twists through her fingers to fight off the June humidity. Talking to her best friend helped her forget just how long she had been holding it in line to the bathroom.

         “Ant, look I don’t like that bar—you want me to come get you?”

         “And leave her? I can’t do that—listen, if we don’t call you for a ride home by midnight just come get us. I’m exhausted and I don’t think she will party that long. Besides, you-know-who just showed up.” She watched as Franco the Flake appeared, wasting no time to linger over her sister—Tessa’s flavor of the month, forgotten within an instant. Antha’s eyes rolled like marbles as she turned away to better hear her friend on the phone; some fraternity boys nearby began fist-pumping into the air as the bartender served up a line of shots for them.

         “Ugh, the Flake… well I can hear things are getting started on your end—I’ll keep my phone on me, just don’t drive. Leave her car and I’ll get you two—there’s maniacs out there especially on Friday night.” He warned.

        “I owe you,” she groaned and hung up. Antha finally arrived in the ladies’ room, only two women away from her sweet release. She watched as the women cornered the mirror like crazed wanton things, bending and zhuzhing, adjusting their “girls” to their perkiest potential through scantily low apparel.

        “Heeeyy…” She quietly greeted the woman that exited the nearest stall. The stranger gave her a haughty elevator eye from head to toe making her feel severely underdressed for a Friday night out. When she threw on a sun dress today, she never anticipated her sister would abduct her after class and have them gallivanting across town. Tessa’s exact words were “Godamnit Ant, tonight we’re gonna have fun if it kills us!” A Cheshire Cat grin spread across her face as she floored the accelerator of her Neon, then cranked up the bass as the radio station started their basement remixes. Fun if it kills us.

        Antha stared at her white sandals, her nail polish was chipped and at least three weeks old. Then she looked to her messenger bag hanging on the back of the door. It was covered in Community College film badges and club stickers, per her friend’s preferences. Antha liked her graffitied messenger bag. Like a billboard, it made her appear she had a life outside of her graduate studies.

        She should have been at home, text books spread on her lap, feet up. She could hear Doug’s old Buick coughing its way up Momma’s drive, then fumbling outside the door, trying to knock with a third of Popov, case of Dogfish Head, and pizza in his arms. Then he would throw everything on the coffee table and announce “I brought Casablanca!” to which she would say “Oh, more white people movies?” and unphased, he would reply “Good god woman, it’s not Birth of a Nation!” Antha smiled, thinking of their weekly ritual of pretending to do research while gossiping long into the night until Zoey and Tessa would drunkenly Uber home. The distinct shamble, like the walking dead, would scrape up the gravel drive signaling their arrival.

        “Hey, you almost done in there?” An annoyed voice yelled over the door, cutting through her reminiscing. Antha could see the reds of the stranger’s eyes between the door crack.

         Instead of lounging on the couch surrounded by good beer and even better friends, Antha found herself being hustled by some Fireball-turned-up twat—all under the guise of having fun. “Yeah, sorry about that.” She replied and flushed. She tightened the belt holding in the billowy fabric of her flowy, mid-thigh, sunflower-printed sundress. It was passed down from her grandmother to her mother and so on. Looking like she walked off the set of a 90’s music video, she admitted that at least she was cooler than the other girls sweating in their skin-tight jeans and heels.

        Some pretty young thing burst through the door past the line and vomited into the trash bin next to Antha while she washed her hands. It was only nine o’clock. That was a bad omen. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she realized she pouted just like Momma in those sorts of situations. She dampened a paper towel for the poor thing and could hear her mother’s words repeating in her head: “When you’re faced with foolishness—you take care of it.” Her mantra: Take care of it. Antha’s mantra: Do what Momma says. Tessa’s mantra: If it ain’t fun don’t do it.

        Antha applied her vanilla lip gloss as she thought on her mother. She made a promise as Momma was lowered in the ground that they would graduate. It was her dying wish that the twins became modern women with college degrees and to have options; to escape the laboring of farming and perhaps even the rinse and repeat of corporate Delaware. That’s all there was in their state: Farming or banking.

        She tucked her shoulder-length braids behind her ears; she truly missed her dreadlocks, but ever since the time Tessa’s boyfriend mistook her for his girlfriend, she cut them off. She was always the one to compromise. Not tonight she decided. Tonight was going to go her way. They would wrap up this foolishness by midnight.

        Antha sighed and knew it was time to face the havoc of the bar when a chatty patron pawed at her sundress asking if it was “vintage”. She replied, “Well it’s old as hell if that’s what you mean,” and hurried out the ladies’ room into the sweltering cacophony of nightlife.

        Fighting across sticky tile and sweaty rednecks she made a beeline for the bartender. “Mar, can I get two?” She bounced on her tip-toes to cut through the crowd huddled around the length of the tacky wooden bar. Maria motioned to the other side because she couldn’t reach through. Antha continued to fight her way through the herd. She could barely hear over the din of the 2016 campaign commercials and sportscasting when Maria slid two cocktails toward her. The southern comfort and coke cocktails reeked with vanilla syrup, Tessa’s favorite. Antha stared into the melting rail drinks and realized she didn’t know what to order herself because she was always the water-boy for her twin.

        “Hey, did you see what’s-his-face is in town?” Maria interrupted her thoughts.

        “Sure did.” She groused and tilted her head in the general direction of where she saw Tessa and Franco last. Through the bodies, for a moment, the crowd parted and the two stared.

        Stepping back from her esteemed role as the older sister, by barely two minutes, Antha admitted to herself that Tessa always looked good. Her off-the-shoulder top exposed a flawless ebony collarbone, shoulder blades, and arms. As if she was the Queen of Sheba incarnate, her tiny wrists were decorated with gold bangles. Her earrings matched the beads in her hair, reflecting light in her hazel eyes. A waterfall of thick box braids fell down her back and over her shoulders, past the tops of her thighs. Her years of dance complimented the country-chic white cut-offs that revealed just a hint of under cheek when she bent across the billiard table.

        “If I were a man, I’d pray for her to bite my head off quick and painless.” Maria laughed, her ponytail frizzing from the heat of her work; her hands rapidly dipping then shining high ball glasses.

        “But that’s not her style.” Antha replied wryly.

        “You’re both good girls. Now you keep her out of as much trouble as you can—I’ll send Kyle ‘round to your table with beers, just let me catch up here!”

        Maria was right: they were good girls. All of Tessa’s shenanigans aside, she never forgot cake for a birthday and with everyone’s break-ups she always had a bottle of Jack stashed with a shoulder to cry on. Tessa was the one that painted Antha’s nails and always lent her the best outfits when the event called for it. On occasion she was even known to deliver soup when her sister ran a fever.

        Tessa was the heart of the operation and Antha couldn’t begrudge her just because she was the head.

        For better or worse, they were sisters.

        Antha reluctantly clutched the chilled drinks and felt a pang of relief in the sweltering bar. She couldn’t see her sister at the billiard table with the onslaught of shuffling patrons, so she decided to move toward her booth. She narrowly missed being covered in appletini as the DJ scratched in one more summer top ten into his rotation. Before she could move forward a voice pinned her in place.

        “Your sister’s the worst, you know that?” A nice-looking guy glared at her. His teeth gleamed pink in the red bar lights. Antha bet he had a handsome smile on account of those white teeth, but he was not smiling now. She squinted through the hazy dance floor and recognized him as the guy Tessa arrived with before Franco appeared.

         “Hey John, don’t fret, Tessa’s just catching up with an old friend—he comes into town every so often, don’t get upset.” She yelled back at his face as kindly as she could manage over the blare of the oncoming band tuning their instruments. For some reason he didn’t seem to believe her and his chest instinctively puffed up.

        “John? I’m José!” He replied. Antha felt embarrassed for both her sister and herself. She grimaced unintentionally, realizing she had said it all with very few words.

        She tried to defend their position with a weak excuse. “José, I’m bad with names and faces—” but he stormed off before she could piecemeal a string of bullshit. There goes another Mr. Last Month.

        This was having fun. Antha doing damage control on last month’s flame, while Tessa stoked a new one. All of the nice memories of her sister evaporated in the heat of the interaction. She grumbled to herself, as she had grown tired of babysitting, not just Tessa but the men-children she dated. When she finally confirmed her party’s booth, she parted the shadowy sea of basic bitches.

        Tessa was giggling like a school girl when her sister dropped the sweaty glasses onto the ratty old table. Franco at her neck like a leech. I hate this guy, Antha thought to herself. He turned his hot gaze on her, “Hi Antha, didn’t see you there.” His drawl was thick like humidity. She thought about giving her drink to Tessa’s date, but now that she could see he was it, she plopped down and selfishly sipped one of the nasty cocktails without offering the second.

        “Oh hey Brian,” she said playfully, “where’s your camera?”

        “Ant, now you know this is Franco, stop playin’!” Tessa tore her eyes away from him for a split second, but after she threw her daggers she was back ogling him like a dog does a bone.

        “Sorry, it’s hard to keep all these blue-eyed, blond, gentlemen straight.” Antha marginally resisted saying yokel under her breath.

        Tessa had a type. Beyond all logic, light eyes were the buckle in her knee, the hitch in her breath; and Franco was at the top of her list. Antha assumed he was the Porsche in her garage amongst a long list of Ford’s, but she honestly didn’t know the whole story. All she knew was that Franco showed his face sparingly and only after dark. He would disappear for weeks at a time, which earned him the endearment The Flake.

        Now, Antha hadn’t dated enough men in her young life to sort them by color and size, but Tessa had. To her credit, her tastes were diverse, she did her research and knew what she liked. No one blamed her either. With that hair and those legs, Tessa could have anyone she wanted. The great appeal of Franco didn’t add up to Antha though. She found him suspicious. She thought his truck was too loud, his jeans too torn, and his eyes much too heavy.

        Franco made idle conversation, inquiring after the twins’ classes as if he cared. His blond, three-quarter parted hair was glossy under the dim lights. When he pulled his tooth pick from the back of his ear and chewed on it, it made him look like an old-fashioned mobster—well until that Delmar twang spilled out of his hillbilly mouth. There was an allure about him; all of his parts matched, but his smile unglued those pieces. A smile that never quite reached his eyes.

        Antha found herself sizing him up, drinking the disgusting cocktail faster than she wanted. I bet he has plastic zip ties and rope in his truck bed, she thought. She didn’t truly know why the image popped into her mind, it was just a feeling she got when his eyes were on her; made her feel like a snack, as if he would eat her alive right where she sat. No more Unsolved Mysteries for me this week, she insisted to herself.

        “Mmmm-hmmm.” Was the best response she could offer when he spoke to her directly. Tessa continued chatted about her business management courses as he deeply stared at her. Antha figured there was no real room for her in the conversation so she took out her world cultures text and flipped to her last page. She liked hanging out, however her final thesis was demanding all of her energy. The page fell open to vampires in the section of Egyptian mythology. She thought how ironic as her eyes shot up at the man sitting across from her.

        “So, there’s this bonfire by Slaughter Bay, I thought you ladies could come with.” Franco suggested lazily like it was too exclusive to be excited about. “You can shotgun babe and we can put Antha and her friends in back.” He eyed the textbooks growing damp on the table. Antha finished the first SoCo and started the second just to cope with him. “You could call up the girls.”

        “Zoey… Zoey... Zoey!” Tessa dramatically said into her drink and then laughed. Antha couldn’t help but smirk as Tessa explained to him her girlfriend was like Candyman and could be summoned via a pint of beer. The joke was partially lost on Franco.

        Before Tessa could agree to go Antha piped up, a little less shy now that her liquid courage had kicked in. “Sounds awfully romantic, but we can’t.” Before she could continue she was interrupted.

        “Hey girl haaayyyy!” Zoey appeared as if out of thin air and snatched one of the beers sent over by the bartender. “You goin’ nowhere without me—not after I Ubered across town!” Her two rando friends hollering and sloshing their drinks.

        “How the hell do you do that?” Antha insisted, amazed that their friend appeared.

        “Uhhhh, never you mind—we can make bonfire plans later—its ten o’clock, I’m here and Bieber is playing! GET UP!” Zoey declared, the glitter from her eyes dusting every surface.

        “Keep an eye on my friends.” Antha told Franco as she abandoned her books to be dragged to the floor. This was the moment she decided she was getting them all out of there; she didn’t like the sound of a bonfire with him and she certainly wasn’t allowing Tessa to go on her own either. She sent a pre-written text message to Doug: “Get here.” Which was their code for its really going down, I need back up.

Twinning Taglist: If you want to be added or removed just let me know; please share with anyone that might be interested. I would love any and all feedback so I can learn and become a better writer. Thank you!  I tagged some people that I thought would be interested in this. @myoxisbroken @just-the-hiddles @vodka-and-some-sass @nildespirandum @yespolkadotkitty @latent-thoughts @emeraldrosequartz @villainousshakespeare @hopelessromanticspoonie @caffiend-queen @poetic-fiasco @lokimostly @dianamolloy @marvelgirlonamarvelworld @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 @cateyes315 @mooncat163 @nuggsmum @plastic-heart @myraiswack @wolfpawn​

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

FIC MASTERLIST

warnings for ch 3: mentions of drug use (weed), swearing, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), a hint of degradation if you squint

chapter 3: you’re so golden

The sun hitting your eyes was the first thing that woke you up, the warmth inviting, but also very bright. Scrunching you’re face up, you tug the blanket over your head, turning to the side and taking a deep breath in. You find giving your body a few minutes to wake up before you force yourself out of bed makes you feel so much more awake and in a good mood.

Stretching your back, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and roll out of bed, trudging to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Yawning as you walk into the kitchen, you make yourself an iced coffee before starting on breakfast. Putting on Rumours, you sing quietly to yourself while making a scramble with a bunch of veggies to get your greens in early.

Heading back to your room with hot sauce in hand, you light some incense and take a few bong rips before eating your breakfast quietly on the window sill. That was something you absolutely LOVED about your room, the edge of the window was just wide enough for you to sit (or lay down) and admire the view of palm trees and beautiful blue skies.

Opening up Misery, you finish a few chapters and mindlessly eat for a bit, listening to the birds chirp and the buzz of the city waking up. Once you finish your food, you go sit cross legged on your meditation pillow, facing the floor length mirror as you make sure your posture is straight. Putting on your favorite meditation music, which, at the moment, is 432hz Healing Tones, you take a deep breath in, clearing your mind and allowing the sun and healing vibrations to roll over you. You imagine yourself breathing in healing energy and nothing but love, and exhaling all of the stuck, negative energy, trying to ‘push’ it out with your breath. Sometimes it felt a bit silly, but if it made you feel loads better, why not do it?

About twenty minutes pass before you slowly blink open your eyes, yawning quietly before going into child’s pose, stretching your back and hips after sitting for so long.

Lying down on your back on the mat, you stare up at the ceiling, feeling an overall sense of being okay. Your body feels good, your mind feels good, your stomach’s full of butterflies that make you smile and blush at the thought of seeing Harry in a bit.

Pulling yourself up with a grunt, you throw on a swim suit and a random pair of shorts, not caring to bring a real top. After applying a bit of sunscreen on your face and shoulders, you slide into your flip flops and fill up a water bottle before heading out the door.

Unlocking Sunflower, you sit on the edge of the side door while sliding on your scuffed white rollerskates with obnoxiously bright blue wheels. They were your pride and joys, and made you feel as if you were in a different time, enjoying the breeze on your cheeks as you skate towards your spot. The journey only took about 15 minutes, with minimal stumbles, so it was already turning out to be a great day.

Finally pulling up to the small lot, you squat down to pull of your skates, putting them behind a rock along with your socks and shorts. You shook your head as you sprinted towards the ocean, leaping into the freezing water. It was the only way you were able to get in, you were never one to wade slowly in. Swimming about half a mile out, the waves crash over you coolly, soothing your quickly warming body. It was going to be a hot day today, good to know. Treading water, you look at the coast, everything looking so small. You made sure to breathe in, capturing this exact moment in memory. The feeling of salty water on your skin, wet hair stuck to your neck and the slight burn in your arms, but this was it. This was pure bliss.

But, you’re also not insane, so after a bit you swim back to shore, spending about ten minutes doing handstands and flips before getting out, wringing out your hair on your way up the beach. Climbing up the pile of large rocks next to cliff, you lay on top of a relatively flat one, allowing your body to dry off for a little bit and give you a few extra moments of sun.

You always hated dusting off your feet for forever before getting back in your socks and skates, but rather that than get sand in them.

“Fuck, I really am killing it today,” you pant to yourself, definitely feeling a burning in your thighs as you start heading home, desperately wanting a shower and some chocolate.

Throwing your skates in Sunflower, you slam the door closed and trudge up the steps to the apartment, practically falling over as you enter the door.

Laura looks up from her phone, perched on the countertop eating a bowl of cereal.

“Look at you, sexy girl, how was the water?” She teases, handing you a banana from the counter immediately because she knows you need it.

“Good,” you sigh, taking a bite and moaning, leaning against the wall for a minute in silence.

“When’s your date with Harry again?” She asks, glancing at the clock.

Oh fuck.

The clock read 10:30.

“Okay, that’s not bad, I just need to get my ass in gear,” you convince yourself, throwing the banana away and grabbing a spoonful of peanut butter. You didn’t have time to make yourself anything else, plus you were eating with Harry soon anyways.

“You got this. Do I get to meet him?” Laura encourages, raising her thumbs at you.

You laugh and nod. “Absolutely, just don’t ask about his exes or I’m going to look crazy.”

“Got it, no exes. Get in the shower, you’re dripping everywhere!”

You run upstairs, yelling back, “I’ll clean it up,” as you head into your room, turning on Currents by Tame Impala to pump you up as you shower, quickly washing your hair and body, shaving the itty bitty stubble just in case.

Running some curl cream through your hair, you try and scrunch and dry your hair as fast as possible, which doesn’t really work, but at least you tried.

A bathrobe envelopes you as you sit down at your small vanity, starting on a little bit of makeup. Dabbing a bit of concealer on your undereyes and small blemishes, you keep it semi-natural with just bronzer, blush, and highlighter, admittedly a ton, but who’s to say. Brushing your brows out and filling in the ends a little darker, all that goes on your eyes is a brown eyeshadow and a beautiful gold pigment, then comes drenching your eyelashes in mascara.

You turn your attention back to your hair, thank god you were having extremely good luck today, because it fell perfectly, the layers framing your face so elegantly that you had to smile at your reflection. Self-love is a journey, and you were glad to be in a good space.

Checking your phone finally, you find a text from Harry, sent 2 hours ago. Whoops.

Good morning, Y/N, just wanted to make sure we’re still on for 12. Hope you slept well.

Well, it’s confirmed, you’re a completely asshole. It’s 11:15 and you still haven’t responded to a text about a date happening at NOON.

AHH IM SO SORRY hi harry ! i don’t check my phone for a while in the mornings, i’m the worst, i know. we definitely are still on, haha, noon still work for you ?

You throw your phone on your bed while you stare at your closet, trying to find a good outfit for today.

Eventually coming to a pair of high waisted white shorts that you got from your mom, thankfully having the same waistline as her in high school, and a light blue silk tank top with gold straps. Planning on wearing your black boots with the gold detailing, because, hey, it seems you’ve got to up your fashion game dealing with Harry, you place them next to your bedroom door before checking your phone.

You scared me for a minute, I was about to go eat a very sad lunch by myself. I’m going to start heading over, that alright by you?

You giggle quietly at his response, typing out,

sounds great :) i’m planning on wearing a pair of boots, should i bring sandals or anything ?

Woah, trying to outdress me?

He sends the next one moments later.

Just teasing, boots will be fine. We’re going to this cafe I really like.

of course i’m going to out dress you, who do you think i am ? and awesome !! see you in a bit !!

You grab a small black bag, putting your sunglasses case, gum, keys, wallet, chapstick, lighter, your dab pen (you never know), and a small rollerball perfume inside. Sliding in some gold hoops and placing your rings back on your fingers, you wiggle them a bit. They always look a bit naked without them on.

Putting on your boots, you head into the bathroom to brush your teeth once more before Harry arrives. But nope, the doorbell, rings as soon as you start brushing your molars.

“Shit,” you gasp, heading over to the door, toothbrush in hand.

You swing open the door and rush out, “Hey, Harry, I’ll be out in two seconds, come on in.”

Taking in his appearance, you grin at the white sunglasses pushed in his hair. Wearing a white t shirt, it’s tucked into a pair of blue pants that matches your shirt to a goddamn T, which you can’t help but laugh at as you walk away. Passing Laura in the hallway, you give her a look as she walks over to him.

Their conversation travels through your open door as you finish brushing your teeth.

“You must be Laura,” Harry starts, and you can just see him reaching his hand out.

“I am, it’s great to meet you,” she says, her smile bleeding into her voice.

“You have a beautiful home, so close to the beach too,” Harry compliments.

“Thank you, yeah, Y/N found this place forever ago and we’ve been living here since we moved out. My dad knew the landlord and they gave us a ridiculously low price for it, but I am not complaining.”

“Oh that’s sick, I’ve been in Malibu for just a bit, always kind of changing my location around LA and England.”

“That was what we thought we were going to do, but I definitely am glad we stayed here. Living in the city is fun and all, but it’s a lot, you know? We need our peace and quiet at home.”

You walk back out, purse and phone in hand, taking in their positioning. Laura’s sitting on a stool, cup of coffee in hand as Harry stands across from her, eyes on you as soon as you walked out.

“I’ll see you later,” you grin at Laura, sneaking another glance at Harry as you give her a quick hug.

“Okay, bye! Nice meeting you, Harry!” she smiles, and of course he replies with the same.

You close the door behind the two of you and he looks you up and down again, meeting your eyes and smiling.

“Hi,” you breathe out, his eyes capturing you immediately.

“Hi,” he whispers back, squeezing your exposed side. “You look really good, Y/N.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the fabric (but really just his muscles). His hands immediately go to cup your waist, not pulling you in, just holding you.

“So do you. Like the blue,” you grin, moving your hands down to his waistband.

“Proper matching, I’d say,” he cheekily smiles, thumbs feeling the edge of your shirt’s material along your ribs, your breath hitching slightly at his movement.

You’re the first to pull away, moving your hand to lace your fingers together, tugging him gently down the stairs. He follows after you, squeezing your hand with his and shaking his head, trying to mask his smile by twitching his nose.

That gorgeous being of a car is parked in front of your house, the color alone bringing a smile to your lips, but now the top was down, which was about to make this a lot more fun.

“God, Harry, I might have to steal this from you,” you sigh, arms crossed as you look up at him seriously.

He laughs loudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you drive it,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head before pulling away and opening your door like nothing happened.

You stand there still for a moment before blinking and getting in, holding his hands on the door when he closes it. Turning your body, you lean out the door, placing your hands next to his as you whisper in his ear,

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Sliding your lips along his cheek as you pull away, you plop back into the chair, putting on your sunglasses and messing with your hair a bit.

Harry clears his throat before walking around the car, sliding into the driver’s side and starting the car.

“Do you want to play music?” He slowly asks, his tone sending shivers down your legs.

You perk up at this, nodding quickly and taking the aux cord from him.

“I’d love to. Have you heard of Tash Sultana? They released an EP a few years ago, their voice is incredible. They make all their own loops and play every instrument by themselves.”

Harry gives you a side eye, grinning as he says,

“That’s some pretty new music for you, princess.”

Your lips part slightly and Harry watches closely as your cheeks flush, licking the side of his mouth with a grin.

“Have I found a nickname you like, Y/N?” His voice has raised slightly, obvious excitement in his expression.

“Only sometimes,” you shrug, trying to play that off as cool as possible. “And yeah, my ex actually introduced me to their music.”

Harry raises his eyes at this, bringing a finger to his lips to hold his laugh in.

“Why the fuck did I say that?” Your hands go up to your face as Harry finally laughs at you, turning the volume down just a little to listen to you.

Sighing for a second, you pull your hands away before blurting out,

“I don’t want you to think that I’m lying to you about not knowing your music or you, because I do listen to stuff released now, obviously. I’m not a music snob or one of those too cool for school people because I absolutely blast SZA when I’m drunk and I’m starting to overthink and-“

Harry cuts you off by taking your jaw in his hand, turning your face towards him. Perfect timing, as always, pulling up to a red light right when he needs it.

“Hey,” he whispers with a smile, stroking your cheek. “I don’t think that you’re lying to me, and I understand. I was kind of a dick for saying all that right away to be honest, but I get it. I listen to mostly oldies too, if I really think about it.”

You exhale, looking up at him.

“Okay. I’m still going to freak out about it and make sure you know.”

He squeezes your jaw slightly, scrunching his nose.

“No,” he cutely protests, and you can’t help but giggle.

He smiles in return and lets your jaw go, hands going back to grip the wheel a little bit tighter

The two of you drive for a little bit, not really saying anything. You can’t help but dance in your seat to the beat, silently mouthing the lyrics to yourself. Harry keeps glancing over at you, too, grinning at the way you blush when he notices you doing it.

“How was your morning so far?” You start, just wanting to hear him talk.

He has to talk a little bit louder over the wind, but he’s happy to get the conversation started.

“Quite good actually. I’m going to Cabo in a couple weeks and was just getting some early packing in. Don’t you hate when you go somewhere and realize you forgot something like a toothbrush at home?”

“It’s the worst, I always end up having to go to a corner store and get something. What’s in Cabo?” You ask, already so amazed at his lifestyle.

“Friend of mine is having a birthday, so we’re there for a bit celebrating, going to be an amazing trip. Happy to be here, though,” he adds, eyes flicking to yours as he says it.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

“What about you? How was your morning?”

“Really good. Sorry about not texting you back for so long, by the way. I just have this thing about using technology right after I wake up, it gives me pretty bad headaches so I go as long as I can without it unless I hear it ring. But it was super productive, I got a good breakfast and read in, meditated a bit, skated to the beach and went for a swim, then got ready for this.”

“You put me to shame, Y/N, you really do.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“I just woke up in a really good mood. I can definitely be grumpy in the morning, I’ll tell you that,” you try to explain, scared of feeling too pretentious.

“Yeah? I can see you throwing a fit if someone wakes you up before you’re ready,” Harry nonchalantly says, looking at the rings on his fingers before checking your reaction.

Cheeks hot, you feel almost scolded by him, thankful for the large sunglasses on your face.

“You’re not wrong,” you finally agree, crossing your legs smoothly.

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, reaching a hand down to rest on your thigh almost immediately. His large hand wraps around your skin, thumb immediately starting to go in small circles.

“I started meditating a few years ago but I absolutely love it, I feel like it allows you to start the morning off right.”

Taking a deep breath before answering, you nod and say,

“Completely agree. It still can feel a bit weird doing it when I’m in a mood or anything, but whether you believe in it or not, having all that negative energy in you without doing anything about it isn’t good for you.”

“You’re quite cute when you talk about things you like. Light up like a little sun,” Harry smirks, pulling his sunglasses up to look at you, the piece of gum in his teeth allowing his jawline to be even more prominent. You do the same, placing them in your lap as you uncross your legs, his hand staying on your left thigh as it goes back towards the seat.

“Yeah?” You don’t stop looking at him, watching his eyes flit between you and the road.

Harry hums before adding, “I think you know that though.”

“That I’m quite arguably the epitome of all things golden? Of course, but it’s always nice to hear.”

You make a noise of protest as Harry removes his thigh to make a left, while simultaneously laughing at you.

“You are absolutely golden, love, don’t you forget it.”

He pauses for a moment before starting again.

“I’m going to warn you right now that there might be some photos taken of you when we go in or leave, or fans coming to take pictures. If that bothers you-“

Cutting him off quickly, you sit up, shaking your head.

“I dressed cute for a reason, if it happens it happens. I’m going to be pissed if someone comes for my outfit though.” You giggle at yourself and grab Harry’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I know what I’m signing up for. You’re good.”

Squeezing back, he looks down at his lap for a moment before glancing back at you, eyes so sincere your heart clenches a little.

“Thank you. Just... need a little reminder sometimes too.”

Unlacing your fingers, you stick your pinkie out, swearing, “I promise that I will always remind you that you’re not going to cause me any problems, and I’m not going to do the same. You promise to always remind me I’m golden?”

“‘Course, love. Was gonna do that anyways,” Harry chuckles, intertwining your fingers, heartbeat going just a little bit faster.

He couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to admit it to himself even, but your presence made his world just a little bit brighter. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, your smile, giggle, and sweet-smelling perfume was all he could think about since last night. His brain was trying to come up with reasons why this was a bad idea, how you could be using him, you were going to break his heart and leave without a second glance. But one look at your face, those eyes looking at him with so much wonder, made him hate the part of himself looking for excuses. These feelings felt way too much, too fast, but all he knew was he wanted to call you his girl. His sweet Y/N.

Parking his car next to some trees, he runs over to open your door, helping you step out and shutting the door behind you, placing the cover on the car quickly. The two of you walk into the cafe in silence, arms swaying next to each other. You figured he wasn’t comfortable holding hands in public on the first date.

The atmosphere of the Beachwood Cafe was everything you could want in a coffee shop. Absolutely stunning artwork covering the walls, a checkerboard floor, fun colors splattered all over. Your face must show how excited you were because you feel Harry bump you, grinning down at you. You hum, smile on your cheeks as he holds your face in his hands for a second.

“Like it?” You nod happily at his question, following the waitress to your table, one in the furthest corner from the door.

“Can I start you off with some drinks?” She asks, setting menus in front of the two of you. Harry gestures for you to go first and you quirk an eyebrow before turning.

“Can I please get a large iced coffee with some honey? Thank you so much,” you add, looking Angie, her nametag reads, in the eye.

“And for you?”

“A large iced americano would be wonderful, thank you, love.” Flashing that award-winning smile at her, she writes down his order and heads back to the front.

“This place is really cute, Harry,” you gush. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

His chest tightens at your cute face looking at him from across the table, the amount of gratitude coming from you at all times filling him with light.

“‘Course, honey. You don’t have to thank me,” He earnestly tells you, placing his chin in his hand.

“I know, but I feel like I need to,” you trail off, looking at one of the names of the scrambles on the menu. Snapping your eyes back up to him, Harry can tell where you’re going with this.

“Please don’t,” he half-laughs, half begs.

“But it’s so easy,” you pout, grinning when he sighs and waves his hand for you to continue.

“Should I ask how strong the Weid scramble is going to hit?”

Groaning into his palm, Harry tries his hardest not to laugh, but can’t help one escaping when you kick him under the table.

“Satisfied?”

“Very,” you nod, looking over the menu once more. “Have you had the Thai noodle salad? That looks hella good.”

“It is ‘hella’ good,” Harry teases, using quotation marks in the air.

“Right then, love, what’re you getting?” You respond in a British accent, folding up your menu.

“Probably the Brussels sprouts salad, it’s my usual here.”

You open your mouth to say something before your drinks are placed in front of you, Angie asking if the two of you are ready to order. Harry goes ahead and orders for the two of you, delicately grabbing the menu from your hands to hand it back to her with a charming smile on his face. Watching her walk away, you grab your drink, lifting it for a cheers.

“To living,” you simply state, Harry repeating it with a look in his eyes you can’t quite name.

“So,” you start, adjusting your position in your seat for a second. “You said you’re writing for your second album, right?”

Harry nods, licking his lips as he pulls away from his glass, catching the way your eyes wander to his mouth.

“Sort of. I want to, you know, take a break, try and just have some fun, rather than jump straight into writing and recording again. At the same time, I really fucking miss it. Writing and being in the studio and getting all that out just feels so good.”

The way his accent wraps around his words makes it hard for you to focus on what he’s saying all the way, realizing he’s waiting on you to respond.

“I definitely think you could use some down time. But that also doesn’t mean you have to stop making music. Write out your ideas when they come to you, and when you feel like you’re ready, start pumping them all out. I’m willing to bet $100 that you already have at least a few songs under your belt, though, am I wrong?” You grin at the headshake Harry gives you, catching the blush on his cheeks. “I knew it! We all do, it’s impossible to just not write, but don’t worry about timelines or due dates. You can’t rush art.”

“God, it’s just so good to hear out loud, I feel like you already know me,” Harry shakes his head, pushing his hair away from his face with one hand.

“I’m pretty good at reading people, I’d like to say,” your arm raising above you as you stretch a little, tilting your head from side to side.

Seeing your neck arch and the way your veins move slightly under your skin causes Harry to have to clear his throat a little, taking a sip of his drink as he feels his forehead start to sweat.

“What kind of artists do you normally write for?” He blurts out, trying to figure out how to get to know more about you in a roundabout way.

“If you’re offering me a job, I’m walking out right now,” you warm, raising your eyebrows. “Kidding. I don’t know, really, I write for a lot of my friends, like I said, when they need help on some of their own projects, or if I’m hanging out in the studio I get pulled around the rooms for a different set of ears. Working with Khalid was one of my favorite experiences, though, he was so fucking cool.”

Harry’s eyes sparkle at this, perking up.

“Love Khalid. He is so talented, and hilarious. I swear, my stomach was aching after being with him for a little while. I only asked because I think I’m trying to figure you out a bit. I just wanna get to know ya,” He shrugs, fingertips tapping on his glass.

“I wish you good luck on that task, Harry, I really do. The first step in recovering is admitting you need help,” you solemnly nod, bursting out laughing when he rolls his eyes and ATTEMPTS to hide his smile.

Your food is placed in front of you suddenly, and you jump, glaring at Harry for smirking at your reaction. He couldn’t help it, you were like a little puppy, overexcited and always jumping from place to place. Harry starts eating right away, sending you a quizzical look when you sit with your hands in your lap, almost like you’re waiting for something.

“You going to start eating, honey?” He gently presses, snapping you out of wherever you went.

“Sorry,” you blush, grabbing your fork and shaking your head a little. “I don’t know what the fuck that was about.”

Fuck, yes you did, and Harry knew that. You were waiting for his permission, and that thought alone sent you into a daze. Closing your eyes around the fork, you fought off the urge to moan and tried to push the fact that he already holds so much control over you out of your head. Snapping them open, you find Harry’s eyes on you, the look in them dangerous. Clearing your throat, you whisper, “It’s really good,” which Harry responds with a simple hum, leaning forward on his elbows towards you.

“You tell me if this is too forward or too much, yeah?”

Your lips part as you nod your head, not really ready for what’s about to cross his lips.

“I’ve been noticing certain... things that you do and, well, are you a sub, darling?”

Your throat dries, unable to break eye contact or even speak, only nodding when he squints his eyes a little at you. Fuck, this was not happening, you thought, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Like to hear that pretty voice of yours, yeah?” Harry urges you, hands fighting off the urge to hold your jaw in his fingertips.

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a swig of coffee to think of something to say. “I’m going to assume you’re a dominant,” pausing to let Harry nod, jaw moving as he chews. You throw your hands up, leaning back in your seat.

“You are the complete package, Harry, shit.”

He laughs at this, covering his mouth quickly. “‘S’all you. A dream, really.”

Your heart flutters at this, shit, no, this is a FIRST date, you cannot be feeling like this. Taking a bite of your food, you are able to just sit back and look at him. Watch how he sticks his tongue out while he puts a bite in his mouth, something you’ve done since you were a kid for no reason. How his hands look almost sinful holding the white napkin to his lips.

“Staring at me, love,” he comments after a few minutes, his eyes looking at you sweetly, like he didn’t mind, but just needed to call you out.

“Merde, je veux te sucer,” you breathe out in French, banking on him not understanding you.

“Viliane,” Harry tuts, clicking his tongue at you. Before you’re able to answer, Harry is handing his card to the waitress who passed your table, asking for two boxes for your meals.

Your eyes snap to his, all the oxygen leaving your body as he brings your plate his side, getting ready to pack it up for you.

“W-Where?” Is all you manage, drinking the rest of your coffee, before setting it down on the table, a drop of honey falling down your lip. Harry can’t help but swipe it off with his thumb, slowly placing it in his mouth afterwards, not breaking eye contact, with you.

“I live nearby. That alright with you?”

Nodding slowly, you sit quietly in the booth as Angie comes back with the check and two boxes, legs bouncing excitedly as Harry packages the food up.

“Come on, lovely, let’s get out of here,” he tells you, holding you by your elbow as you walk outside, heading straight for the car. He doesn’t bother taking the top off, opening your door for you without a word and shutting it, almost sprinting to the driver’s side.

His hand finds your thigh immediately, rings shocking the delicate skin and making your muscles tense, his fingers quickly moving to massage out these aches.

“You wanna give me a safeword, pretty girl?” His voice drips with confidence, his hands moving closer to where you needed him most. His eyes keep flickering back to you while trying to focus on the road. His curls are a mess around his sunglasses, the brown hair swallowing up most of the eye ware. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that he expects an answer, shaking your body out slightly before answering.

“The stoplight system’s good. Green, I’m good, yellow, slow down or take a break, red, stop everything. What kind of dom are you, Harry?” You push, wanting to know what you’re getting yourself into. You had done a lot of kinky stuff in the past, and there were some things you weren’t a fan of.

“Mm, I’m relatively easy going. Not going to give you any rules, unless we’re playing and have a scene set up. But,” he pauses to exhale harshly, “I’m quite mean, love. I like to take control, pick you apart bit by bit until you’re just trembling under me, can’t say anything but my name. How does that sound, puppy? Tell me now how you like it.”

His voice sends shivers throughout your body and you moan quietly, biting your lip to try and stifle it. Harry’s words circle around your brain, your stomach tightening with need. All the air seems to escape you, but you know he wants an answer.

“G-good. I like it rough, dirty, just wanna please you,” you stutter out, chest rising and falling rapidly. You absent-mindedly rub your fingers against your neck, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe while thinking about what he’s saying.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he moans, removing his hand from your thigh to place it behind your neck, squeezing it in his grasp. He knows what you want, even if he’s driving, he’s able to pick up on any little signals your body makes. Your back arches as you let out a breathy moan, eyes slipping closed.

“Tell me, princess,” he starts, squeezing the side of your throat to make you open your eyes and pay attention to him. “What do you want to happen when we get back to my house? Don’t want to go too far too soon.”

“Fuck, Harry, I just really want to suck you off, please, please, please,” you beg, a tear actually falling from your eye as you look at him. His pupils dilate at your words, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, mouth suddenly dry,

“Y/N,” he growls, reaching a hand to squeeze his growing bulge in his pants. His tanned hands and dark rings contrast the bright color, adding to your ever growing list of things that Harry does that turns you on.

The car pulls up to a gate and you sit there for a few seconds before Harry is buzzed in, probably driving way too fast back to his house. Parking in his driveway, he finally releases his hand from your neck and exits the car, making his way around to open your door. Holding your hand as you exit, he places his hand on your low back to guide you into the gorgeous home, the size of it taking your breath away. Harry gives you no time to admire it, shutting the door behind him with a slam before bringing his hand up your chest to rest on your throat, slamming you into the wall. He slips a leg in between yours and takes your hip in his free hand, guiding you to start grinding on his thigh. Your face flushes with heat as he tightens his grip.

“Know you wanna suck me off, but will you cum for me first? Don’t want this pretty cunt to go to waste.”

Your head rolls back and hits the wall, hips stuttering at his words, eliciting a chuckle from Harry as he leans in, breath hitting your lips before he envelopes them, encouraging you to start grinding faster. His tongue runs along your bottom lip, prying them open to lick into your mouth, your moans being instantly swallowed by him. Pulling away slowly, he maintains eye contact with you as he removes his hand from your throat to slip two fingers into your mouth. Feeling your wet mouth on him, sucking his fingers with such need, Harry groans lowly, removing his fingers to kiss you even harder, hands making quick work of removing your shorts.

“Such a naughty girl, can’t even wait to get to the bedroom, just has to have me feel you right here, hmm?” Harry scolds, removing his lips from yours to suck a mark into your neck, fingers moving to feel your wetness through the cloth underwear. Your hands wrap around his curls as you shakily inhale, resting your forehead on his to moan out lowly.

“Fuck, Harry,” you sigh, feeling him rub along your folds through the fabric, pushing it ever-so-slightly inside of you. His mouth pulls away from you with a pop, only to bite down on the red skin harshly, working his way up to your mouth once more. He bumps his nose against yours and opens his mouth to move his tongue past your lips. Your head is spinning, breath ragged as you suck his tongue with yours, feeling the vibrations in your mouth when he moans lowly, pulling a whimper from you.

Suddenly, he drops to his knees, pulling the thong down with him. You swallow at the change in pace and allow him to help you step out of them.

“Wanna take your boots off, sweet girl?” He checks, kissing your inner thigh softly as you lean fully against the wall. You think for a second, these were pretty comfortable, pretty solid grip, why not stay in them?

“‘S okay. Perfect height for you,” you breathe, bucking your hips up. He doesn’t even wait a second to smack your pussy, grabbing your thighs to spread you even wider.

“Filthy, you are,” he growls, licking a long stripe from your hole to your clit, a gasp immediately falling from your lips. He looks up at you and grins, licking long stripes through your folds, almost like he’s trying to remember how you feel. He takes his time catching your wetness slowly, despite the little gasps and moans coming from you. Flicking his tongue over your clit for a second, he pulls back to blow cool air on it, the motion causing your legs to falter for a second.

“Gotta stay still, okay? Can’t have you falling over,” he spits directly on your core as he says this, looking up at you with his jaw hanging slightly open, loving the way your hands go to your hair to find something to grab on. He smirks to himself, licking into you while his hands find your hips, pinching the delicate skin between his fingertips. He collects as much of you and his spit on his tongue as he can, swallowing around your clit after he sucks it into his mouth. The suction makes your hips fight to buck up into him, but you use all of your strength to stay still, causing your thighs to start quivering in his palms. Harry grins and scrapes his teeth along your clit, your loud moan going directly to his quickly hardening cock.

“Taste so fucking good, angel,” he groans, nose rubbing against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you, the soft muscle dragging along your walls and guiding your wetness into his mouth. The sounds coming from him are obscene, loud slurping, sucking, and spitting onto your trembling pussy.

“Fuck, Harry, I’m not going to last,” you cry out, feeling yourself start to clench around him. He grins around you, pulling away to thumb at your clit and look directly into your eyes.

“Mm, that’s not how good girls ask,” is all Harry gives you, slipping a finger inside and immediately curling it towards himself, finding your g-spot with ease. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking harshly while his tongue draws designs on the sensitive button.

“Please, Sir, can I come?”

This has Harry moaning against you, pinching your clit between his teeth as he slides another finger in, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, one hand splayed against the wall, another in his hair to give you some sort of balance. He relentless massages and thrusts into your g-spot with his fingers, feeling you clench around them so tightly that his head starts to spin. “That’s it, puppy, ask me again,” he demands, the title you gave him sending shivers throughout his body. He sucks harder on your clit, somehow speeding up his fingers inside you. A moan vibrates against your center when you pull on his curls, your hips bucking up against his waiting hand.

“Sir, please please please can I come? I’ve been so good, haven’t moved,” you beg, gasping loudly when your legs start to shake noticeably. Harry pulls away, looking up at you and grunting out,

“You have been such a good girl, haven’t you? Go. Cum, now, right fucking now on my tongue.” A loud slapping noise is heard when Harry smacks your ass, the pain sending you over the edge. Your head hits the wall with a thud, but your moan drowns everything out, the guttural sound coming from your soul. Tilting your head back, you cum into his mouth, one leg slipping out from under you and Harry places it on his shoulder without a second thought, holding you up as you ride out your orgasm. The tightness in your stomach releases and your pussy trembles around his fingers, only encouraging him to continue the constant pressure on your g-spot.The strength of it knocks the wind out of you and sends electricity throughout your finger tips, your hips slowing down their rocking motion as Harry eases his fingers out of you. He continues to lick you clean before placing your shaky legs back on the ground together, trailing his hands up your body as he stands up.

“Thank you,” you breathe into his chest, holding on to his hips for balance. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, and you feel him move your hair out of the way to kiss your shoulder.

“Of course, lovely. How you feeling?” He is all smiles, his voice gentle and caring as he breathes in your smell, leaving small kisses along your neck.

“G-good,” you stutter out, nudging his head to make eye contact with you. He pulls away after a second, one arm going around your waist when he notices how you’re practically falling over with how shaky your legs are. Smirking, he places his other hand on your cheek, pulling you in for a kiss. Tasting yourself on his tongue was too much for you, whining into his mouth before pulling away.

“Can I suck you off now?” You ask shyly, using your best puppy dog eyes. And, wow, do they work. Harry groans, biting your bottom lip harshly before pulling away, not wasting a second before pushing down on your shoulders. You topple to the ground easily, landing surprisingly softly (thanks to Harry’s expert hands), on the hardwood floor. After helping him remove your shirt, you place your hands behind your back immediately and tuck your chin down, grinning to yourself when you hear the moan Harry let’s out at your position.

“Spoiled little girl. Gets everything and more that she asks for, hmm, yes?” Harry demands, tugging your chin up by his hands. His eyes are pointed, staring directly into yours, pupils blown out and hair a mess behind him. You can see the pieces stuck to his forehead from sweat, but his chin glistens with something that has to be you.

“Yes, sir, so good to me. Wanna make you feel good, please,” you beg, leaning closer into him, the difference in clothing setting you into a daze, seeing him fully dressed while you’re waiting on your knees in front of him, naked, panting, and pleading to have his cock down your throat.

“Greedy,” he sighs, taking his hand away from your face to slide off his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He keeps his eyes trained on yours, daring you to avert them as he unzips his pants, stepping out of them. He looks away for a second to pull of his boots, and you take your time admiring his thighs, because, fuck. They were thick, muscled, tanned, and the little tattoos on them were asking to be bitten, you made a mental note to do that later.

“Got a bit of a staring problem, love.”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daydream, eyes flickering back up to him, mouth dropping open when he’s bare in front of you, slowly stroking himself. You involuntarily make a little noise in the back of your throat, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Seeing Harry’s hips thrust up into his hand and his neck vein pop was confirmation enough for you, but you waited for him to put himself in your mouth, absolute torture you must say.

Harry finally takes mercy on you, moaning out, “God, you’re such a little cockslut, just want something in that fucking mouth of yours. Bet I could leave my fingers in there all day and you wouldn’t complain once,” when he eases himself into your open mouth.

You flatten your tongue on the underside of him, not breaking eye contact as you slide off his cock to lick at his tip with feather light touches, drawing figure eights along the top. Suckling lightly on just the head, you feel a spurt of precum land on your tongue, licking it up happily. Tearing your eyes away from his, you open up your throat to begin taking him deeper, feeling his hand immediately come to your hair as you do this.

“Yes,” Harry draws out, allowing you to take control for a moment. You wanted to suck him off, so who is he to tell you how to do it? The view is what is killing him the most, though. Your tits bouncing as you slurp him down, spit falling onto your thighs, your little bit of stomach pudge falling over as you completely lose yourself in making him feel good. That is what gets him to buck into your mouth, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip, breathing heavily as he begins to thrust into you. You pull away after a moment, jerking him off steadily as you swallow and look up at him.

“You can fuck my throat. Don’t have much of a gag reflex, anyways. Wanna see how you like it, Sir,” you pant, not giving him any time to think before you take him back into your mouth, placing your hand on the wrist that’s in your hair, giving him another okay.

“God, Y/N, you’re heavenly,” Harry breathes, testing out the waters by doing some shallow thrusts, only then beginning to actually throat-fuck you. He places his other hand around your neck, essentially pulling you into his throat and choking you from both ways. Your eyes roll into the back of your throat and you place your nose against his belly, breathing in deeply. Harry pulls himself out of you, rubbing his cock against your cheeks.

“Feel so good,” he draws out, easing himself back into your waiting mouth, rubbing the head on the ridges on the roof of your mouth. He moans through closed lips and tilts his head back, giving you the chance to admire his strong jawline from this angle, body sculpted by Michaelangelo himself. He had no room to call you all these beautiful names while he looked this fucking good getting his cock sucked.

You start speeding up your bobs, keeping him deep in your throat and only picking up a little, the change in pressure earning you a tug on your roots when Harry pulls you to look up at him.

“Mm, you want me to cum, don’t you, dirty girl,” he grunts, a lazy grin on his now flushed face. His thumbs make their way to press on either side of your cheek, moaning lowly when he feels himself through the tissue.

You hum around him, using your tongue along the vein you can feel, looking up at Harry with such need in your eyes. You pull off for a quick second, gasping loudly while saying,

“Want you to come in my mouth so bad, want to taste you and make you feel as good as you made me,” Taking him back in your mouth and sucking him off with a vice-like grip.

“Fuck,” Harry half-laughs, half-moans. “You’re incredible. Gonna make me come so fast, you’re taking me so fucking deep.”

Not even a minute later, you feel him begin to pulse in your mouth, pulling back to just suck on the head, using your tongue to dip into the hole, and Harry cums with a loud shout, burying his cock down your throat as he shoots ribbon after ribbon of come into you. You keep your eyes at his face, remembering how his mouth looks wide open, his eyes pinched closed, hair making a perfect halo around him. His throat makes you want to cry, the veins popping out and slightly red. He stays in your mouth for a while, allowing you to suck him dry and soften slightly, before pulling out of you with a pop.

“Thank you,” you croak out, swallowing what’s left in your mouth and leaning into his touch, quite spent if you were being honest.

Harry had to look away for a second, moving his hand to hold your head while he caught his breath. You were right about being golden, your skin shone, and you just radiated everything good in this world, right after he had his cock balls deep down your throat nonetheless.

“You’re too much, beauty. Thank you, did such a good job,” he gushes, kneeling down. He takes your chin inbetween his fingers and kisses you softly, just barely moving his lips. He leans his forehead against yours and wipes your lip with his thumb, allowing you to suck the bit of cum still on your face off with a blush tinting your cheeks.

“Reminds me of this morning, a bit,” he giggles, laughing louder as you hit him in the chest, grumbling ‘dumb’. He pushes your hair out of the way and holds your face in his two hands, effectively shutting you up as you breathe in deeply, feeling strangely comfortable being this vulnerable with him this fast.

“Do you wanna take a bath with me right now? Know you were on shaky legs and this hard floor for a while,” he pouts, kissing your forehead softly. You nod slowly and he smiles, nodding against you before pulling away to unzip your shoes, placing them next to the wall before he’s picking you up with way too much ease, pulling a shriek from you.

“‘Sorry, love, your poor legs okay?” he asks, holding you to his chest with one arm, using the other to hold your thigh. He receives another nod to the shoulder and he nuzzles you, trying to see what’s happening.

“I’m okay, just tired,” you sigh, and he murmurs an ‘okay’ kissing your temple before allowing you to sink back onto him, making a mental note to ask you about it once you’ve got your breath back.

“Why don’t you go turn on that shower and wash yourself real quick with some warm water and I’ll have the bath ready when I join you, that okay?” Harry whispers, sliding you down slowly. He pushes you toward the large glass door and you smile back at him, your heart bursting with appreciation.

This one is going to change you.

A/N: and that’s a wrap !! lemme know if you guys prefer this kind of phrasing (‘you said’), or if you like ‘she said’, or ‘i said’ better. this is my first time working with a full story using y/n and second/third person kind of view, so pls bear with me. also !! i know some people aren’t really cool with weed. im a ~stoner~ (such a weird thing to type out lmao) so i smoke a lot, but if y’all aren’t comfortabke with me mentioning it p much every other chapter, let me know !! (it can even be anonymously sent in) hope you liked it, and let me know if you have any other requests for future chapters or just one shots💗💗

- lana💔

[s-creations]

Two Steps Forward

Panchito has a heavy question on his mind. Something that he's worried that could make or break this relationship with the two people he loves the most. But he has to ask.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros       Rating: General Audience       Relationships/Pairings:  José  Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Discussion of Marriage, MArriage, Struggling New Life, Living Together, Minor Discussion of Racism, And I Mean Minor, Nervous Discussion, Happy Ending.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Heads up for everyone! Please note in the tagging section, I have made mention of racism being present in this story. It's nothing super impactful overall, but more of a show of frustration and to act as a sort of barrier. It's nothing that should make anyone feel uncomfortable, but I still wanted to make mention of is at it's still there.

With that being said, please enjoy!

Panchito knew what he brought to their relationship. He was the more chipper out of the three. Always with a smile, the positive outlook on the situation, to offer a good laugh to lighten the mood. Most would assume he was a bit ‘simple minded’. That the attitude came from not knowing what was happening. 

 But if he wasn’t paying attention, how would he know when to cheer people up?

 It was a subtle skill he held. One he’d developed and perfected over the years with having to deal with a large family. Taking in what was happening and finding a good resolution. Understanding what the best outcome would be to spare everyone emotionally. Something he was having difficulty figuring out for this current situation. 

 Even with him and José having full citizenship, there were still a number of obstacles they couldn’t figure out how to get over. 

 The parrot was the only one out of the three that held a proper job. It was easy to transfer his position from one airport to another. He still had steady hours and proper insurance. A good income that helped supply the household. But that’s pretty much where the ease stopped. 

 It seemed realtors and landlords were overly cautious about renting to anyone recently immigrated. Even if said person had a secured job. Even then, there weren’t that many options available to them that made the trio thrilled enough to move. It was expensive to live in the city. Or anywhere near it. Every place they were shown was just as cramped as the boathouse and in a worse state of upkeep. One place being more duct tape than actual building materials. It honestly wasn’t worth the move. All decided it would be better to do so when the other two found stable jobs to help with their income. Which Panchito hoped would be soon because the boathouse was very cramped now with the extra boxes. 

 But even getting a job was becoming a struggle for both him and Donald. The duck had the unfortunate issue of having a bit of a criminal record. His temper caused him to be tossed from a number of businesses and blacklisted as being someone who was unreliable. Which aggravated the other two to no end because they knew of Donald’s work ethic. The duck was more than reliable if given a proper chance. Which a lot of businesses didn’t feel the need to do. 

 For Panchito, he had the trouble of finding a performance company that didn’t treat his heritage like a novelty. He was a serious performer, not a trinket for people to patronize! He wasn’t meant to play for families who used his heritage as a theme. Playing songs from his childhood dressed in an overly offensive outfit while privileged families broke apart dollar store bought pinatas. He should be playing at cumpleaños and quinceañeras. To people who would actually respect his work. He was not a trinket! 

 After a month of searching, it was starting to become a trudge to find a job. 

 Another concern was the health coverage for the triplets. Even if hatching was a natural process, there were still a number of worries. Donald had the cheapest version of healthcare his non-income could provide. Which still left a lot of out of pocket expenses. José offered to help, to take the full burden. Only to have that shot down when the parrot was told he’s not a legal guardian to the eggs. 

 “But, we are helping care for the triplets and I am making the offer. How is that not enough?” José argued in disbelief. 

 Donald just shrugged and shook his head. “You’re not related to them, so it won’t be allowed. That’s just the bottom line. We’d have to get married before we could do anything about it.”

 That caused Panchito to perk up at that. His mind rolling the idea of possible marriage around in his head. 

 He knew what the risk could be. Truthfully, the three hadn’t properly dated for a long time. Maybe only close to a year. Donald had left and returned to his family after a short while of them being together. A promise from him that he’d return after another year and they could continue to explore the world together. After a year, however, it became clear Donald wouldn’t be able to keep that promise. Even if the duck kept contact as best he could, it wasn’t the same. 

 They never truly ‘broke up’. But Panchito really questioned if they had started dating all those years ago. They loved each other. That was never a question. Confessions were shared and an understanding was created, but they never said they were in a relationship. It was sort of just a silent understanding between the three of them. What worried the rooster was the fact he was thinking of an offer that could scare the other two away. And that scared him to think he could lose Donald and José just as soon as they were together once again. 

 Donald was a wreck at the moment. No matter what the duck said to convince otherwise. He’d just lost his family, either to the stars or because he cut them out, and had taken in three eggs without questioning how hard it was going to be to raise them. Even with José and Panchito back in his life to help, there were still a number of things that Donald had to worry about. A suggestion of marriage, of another huge life event after losing so much, might cause the duck to shut down and turn away from them. 

 José, while having a very forward and suave personality in public, was actually reserved when only around Donald and Panchito. They were aware of the parrot’s past ‘relationships’. Which were honestly nothing more than numerous one night stands. He never talked about his family. Panchito could only conclude on his own that any relation the parrot could have with his parents was a negative one. The rooster was worried he and Donald were the first people to give José an actual loving relationship. Something as extreme and rather permanent as marriage might cause the parrot to run. 

 Even with the possible threat of losing two people he cared so much about, marrying was a thought that hadn’t left Panchito’s mind as days passed. A want that grew stronger with each night that passed with them pressed close in the hammock. The rooster resting in the middle. Donald tucked right under his chin with José using the red feathered chest as a pillow. Arms and legs tangled together and all covered by a well-worn quilt. 

 As he lays awake, eyes watching the night sky as it passes, Panchito knows he wants this. He wanted it, wanted them, and he never wanted to let go. 

 He was going to make sure it happened. 

 Panchito was an early riser. Skillful at slipping out between the other two and standing on the cold floor without making a noise. He waited a few moments to make sure the others remained asleep. Looking back to watch as Donald and José shuffled closer together to reclaim the warmth that had left. The duck wrapped every limp around the parrot, José muttering as he nuzzled under Donald’s chin. Panchito gave a small smile before collecting the eggs, wrapping them up with an overly fluffy blanket and moving them to the kitchen. 

 Once the eggs were settled and still on the kitchen table, Panchito flipped on the radio to let music chase the quiet away. Loud enough to be heard, but not enough to wake the others. With that set, he turned his attention to making breakfast. The small buffet of different dishes was near completion when Donald and José shuffled out from the bedroom. The duck looked more awake than the parrot. Both took a seat at the table to wait for the still cooking food. Donald talked gently to the eggs while José leaned against his hand, eyes closing again. 

 Panchito soon joined them. A plate put before each to let them take their needed fill of food. A quiet mumble of ‘Thanks.’ sounded before all started eating. His heart was hammering as he started to eat as well, knowing he needed the others to be a little more awake before broaching the subject. 

 Absolutely not stalling because he was terrified with where this could lead. 

 “Panchito? Are you okay? You are quiet this morning.”

 The rooster was a little embarrassed at how far he jumped. Eyes darting up to José before flickering between him and Donald. “Uh, yes. I’m fine. Just...I have something on my mind?”

 “Do you want to talk about it?” The duck asked this time. 

 Unsure of what to say, Panchito stalled for time by plucking at the small feathers on his fingers and wrist. Only for Donald to reach over and halt him. 

 “I want to get married.” Well, there goes all that subtly and structured argument he’d been trying to build up. Panchito felt his feathers ruffle in embarrassment, eyes darting down as the other’s exchanged looks of surprise.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ask like that.” The rooster groaned. 

 “What...brought this on?” Donald asked. 

 “I...just… We’ve been talking a lot about what we need to do to care for the eggs. And how it seems that we can’t move forward because our credit, or our finances, or that just being together doesn’t count as being ‘stable’. And you made a casual comment about being married would really benefit us. Which got me thinking about marrying you two and how much I really wanted to and I…”

 Panchito exhaled slowly, leg bouncing as he squeezed Donald’s hands. “I don’t want to lose you two and I...I really like the idea of us marrying and I… I love you two, so much. I love the eggs and I want to give them the best. I don’t need or even want fanfare about it all. I just...I want...to marry...you two…”

 With that, it fell quiet. Shoulders slumped as he leaned back into the padded seat. His eyes remained on the table, not wanting to see the other’s looks of possible disgust or rejection. It was such a poor argument (it wasn’t even an argument, he wasn’t sure what that rambling counted for) and he was already worried the other two weren’t ready for this. If they had been on the fence about this then Panchito did not win them over. 

 What was he thinking?

 He couldn’t have been better prepared for this?

Make a list. Pros and cons to make his case. Why did he just dive head first into this? He’s such an idiot. No sane person just asks something so heavy and so suddenly. They were going to leave him because they’re going to realize how much of an idiot he was. He was going to lose them.

 He felt so sick, he wanted to cry-

 “I was honestly thinking the same thing.” Panchito’s head shot up so quickly José actually flinched. The parrot recovered quickly, giving a small smile before continuing. “I know it is a large step forward, but...I don’t want to lose you two. I want to spend the rest of my life with the both of you.”

 José reached over to take a hand from both Panchito and Donald. “I wish to marry you two.”

 Heart beating furiously, Panchito beamed and gave a gentle squeeze to the parrot’s hand. Both turned to face Donald who still looked stunned. 

 “Is this moving too fast?” the rooster asked worriedly, “I-I really didn’t want to push you-”

 “No, no, you’re fine.  It’s just…” Donald laughed softly, “People normally get on one knee to propose.”

 “Oh, well, by all means. If we need to do this properly.” 

 “No, I was joking!” Donald laughed as Panchito slid from the booth. Making a large show of getting on his knee, flipping his crown back and setting his face as serious as he could. It didn’t help that Donald was laughing still, clearly flustered. “Donald Duck. José Carioca. Will you do me the great honor of allowing me to take your hands in marriage?”

 “So salacious,” José smiled, “Did you even ask my father if he approved of this?”

 “...I’d rather not. He scares me.”

 Donald doubled over in laughter at that. The parrot playfully rolled his eyes as he sighed dramatically. “Well, I suppose that does not truly need to happen… Very well, I accept.” 

 “This is the strangest proposal that I’ve ever seen.” Donald wheezed.

 Panchito pouted. “This is supposed to be serious and heartfelt.”

 “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, hold on.” Taking a few deep breaths, the duck collected himself  the best he could. Feathers still ruffled as he said, “I happily accept as well.” 

 Being mindful of the eggs resting nearby, Panchito clambered onto the table. Close enough to pull the other birds into a deep kiss. He wished he had enough room to dance and jump without the worry of breaking something important. Or that he could yell with joyful abandonment without disturbing the neighbors. But he was more than content with being squished between his fiancées as the sun fully rose into the sky. 

 They were married two weeks later. No fanfare, no family members physically present (Panchito’s family watched and cheered from a computer screen), they didn’t even bother with rings. All deciding it would be better to save up for a larger place to live. 

 The rooster didn’t want to say the written paper that officially announced their marriage was any sort of a good luck charm. But it seemed after said event, things started to look up. Panchito was able to get a ‘non-themed’ position with an entertaining business. A small company that catered to the minority families located in Duckberg and the surrounding towns. Donald eventually decided he would just be a stay at home parent. Knowing someone would need to keep an eye on the triplets once they hatched. 

 “We’ll save on babysitters this way.” The duck concluded with a shrug. 

 They were able to find a comfortable apartment next. Three bedrooms, two baths, and positioned perfectly in the suburbs near Duckberg. There was a bit of a commute, but one they were more than willing to put up with for the price of the place. There was a bittersweet moment when the boathouse was finally sold. José and Panchito recognized how hard Donald had worked to get a place of his own after the fall out. But it was forgiven and forgotten rather quickly when the money was spent on a large bed and three cribs. 

 “We’ll get a hammock when we buy a house.” José promised.

 Donald laughed softly. “I’ll be fine with an actual bed for awhile. Shockingly, back support sounds more appealing.”

 It took a few weeks to properly settle in. The big pieces of furniture were placed first, allowing for some semblance of a layout. José would be called away for a few days at a time, so Panchito and Donald focused on putting the smaller items in place when the parrot wasn’t there. The rooster was more than thrilled when he had an entire set of shelves for his heirlooms. While one of the rooms was specifically made up to be the nursery, Donald wanted the eggs to be nearby for the time being. One of the cribs having been set up in their large bedroom close to the bed. 

 “It’s just until they’ve hatched.” Donald concluded.

 Panchito laughed softly. “Or until you feel okay with leaving them alone. Which will probably be never.”

 “Shut up.”

 They eventually fell into a comfortable routine. José was gone for most days but slipped into the others arms easily every time he returned home. Panchito and Donald kept all as orderly as they could at the homestead. The rooster content with his new career. Even if it wasn’t the record label he had always dreamed about as a child. He had a home, a job, and happily married to the two people he cared so much about.

 When he woke early, before the sun had even started to crest over the horizon. Pressed against a clinging duck and parrot that were resting on either side of him. Eggs resting in the nearby crib being illuminated by a nightlight. Panchito would realize, with a watery smile and warmth in his chest, he wouldn’t change this for anything. 

 This was his new dream and he was happily living it. 

[popculturebuffet]

House of Mouse: The Stolen Cartoons Review (Patreon Review)

Hello all you happy people! It’s Patreon Review Time. Since my 5 dollar or higherr patreons get 1 review a month, Kevin my 10 dollar patreon is using one of his to celebrate the 20th anniversary of House of Mouse by having me review a random episode a month. And for this month we’re going all the way back to the start with The Stolen Cartoons!

I already introed house of mouse back when I reviewed “The Three Cablleros” episode but for a refresher: House of Mouse is a 2001 cartoon about Mickey and Co running a club. Mickey is host, Minnie plans the show and runs the books, Donald tends to the VIP”s and co owns the club with Mickey, Goofy is head waiter,  Daisy runs guest services, Horace is technical support, Clarabelle is a gossip monger with no clear actual job, and Max is Valet. The show was used to repackage shorts from the short lived show Mickey mouseworks, using the club setting as a wraparound and said club was attentend by all the various characters from the disney canon. It’s as awesome as it sounds. 

The voice cast, which I didn’t intro thorughly last time, was equally awesome with all the actors for the characters at the time, all legends in the industry. Wayne Allwine as Mickey,who played the character from the late 70′s to his death, Russi Taylor as Minnie and the Triplets, who did the same and was also married to wayne, Tony Anselmo, who should be thorughly familiar to readers of this blog and donald duck fans as his voice since Ducktales, Voice Actress Tress Macneile as Daisy, likewise,  Jason Marsden as Max and Voice Acting Legend Jim Cummings as Pete. All except Allweine i’ve profieled before on this blog in various other series, but Wayne, outisde of a very minor role in black cauldron, only voiced Mickey, and to me is the defntiive voice for the guy, though Chris is getting close. 

The other notable members of the cast i havent’ covered are April Winchell, who while tremendous, I will save for an episode Clarabelle is actually in more, and Bill Farmer. I have a great amount of Love for Bill and like everyone here, he was a vertran of the industry by the time he showed up in this series. His defining roll far and away is goofy, who was, to my delighted surprise his FIRST voice audition, having studided PInto Colving’s voice well to the point you can barely tell the difference between the two, and having inherited the roll around the same time as Russi and Tony. He’s the voice of Goofy I and most kids from the 80′s onward have grown up with and is the best at the roll by far, having chances for depth and nuance Pinto wasn’t allowed with the Goofy Movies and other works. IN general he’s just THE goofy to me. He’s also the voice of horace and pluto, and currently voices Hop Pop in Amphibia which is super noteworthy as looking at his filmography like a lot of the sensational 6′s va’s he’s only voiced goofy or Pluto for most of his career. But hey like Tony, if you only do one charcter might as well be the fucking best at it. He also has a show on Disney Plus with him and dogs I need to watch yesterday. 

So with our cast out of the way, and not much history to go into, join me after the cut and we’ll see how House of Mouse got it’s start and if it was a good one. 

Breaking from my usual format for House of Mouse and doing the shorts as they come up int he main story for two reasons: The first is that the shorts are integral to the plot and the second is that there’s way more main story this time around than usual, likely to properly set things up. 

So we open at the House of Mouse with Mickey Adressing the club and showing off the general premise of this being a club for all of the various heroes and villains of disney to hang out and what not. He also presents the house rules which are no smoking (Fair and should’ve always been a thing), no villianous schemes and no eating the other guests, all helpfully demonstrated as he says them. We also get to see the others in action: Minnie handling the schedule and the crew, Donald welcoming the guests, and Daisy running the desk and getitng brainwashed by Jafar into giving him a table. Max also is providing his job as Valet which surprised me because I genuinely thought he didn’t join the cast till season 2.. despite the fact he’s right there in the credits.. which are the same for ALL THREE SEASONS. 

So things are going well.. so naturally that’s when Pete shows up to try and ruin things. Look he’s having a hard time after the divorce.. several years ago. Okay maybe he’s always just been a dick and that’s why he’s divorced in the first place. Point is he naturally wants to shut the club down, boot them out, and wreck up the place like any natural cartoon villian or real estate scum bag landlord. Pete just happens to be both because he can multitask. .and because it’s basically the same thing you just have to be animated for one of them.  Thankfully whoever the previous Landlord was, i’m going with Shere Kahn given the setting, his roll in tailspin and the fact the obvious candidate, scrooge, would make no sense here given a later episode where he guest stars, wrote into the contract that as long as the show goes on, they can stay in business. Pete stews over this and naturally plans to stop the show while Minnie, in a cute bit, comforts a nervous mickey and just tells him to play some cartoons. So...

Pluto Gets the Paper: Wet Cement and Donald’s Dynamite: Magic Act I”m covering both of these at once. But as I said the animated shorts this time are one big sized one and two of the shorter ones to make more room for the story. Which is fair: this is the first episode, and thus needs to set up the premise. The series isn’t story driven but your first episode should still feel like one, ease you into the world and get you situated and THEN can do the normal format. It’s also in the episode’s favor as the heavier story focus meant a BETTER story than most season 1 episodes, on par with the two season 3 episodes i’ve covered so far. 

The shorts themselves are fine. So far this is the only Pluto Short i’ve liked as it has a neat enough gaga: Pluto has to get the paper in wet cement. Why did the paperboy throw it in wet cement instead of in the driveway, I dunno but given this short is well.. short and just meant to deliver on some quick gags, I’m not going to question it. It’s the first Pluto short i’ve covered without any dog sexual harassment, i’m not looking a gift dog in the mouth. 

The other short short played right after is part of a series where Donald ends up trying to get rid of a round bomb that shows up wherever he is....

It’s pretty damn funny, though being a huge Donald fan i’m obviously biased, but even removing my donald duck brand sunglasses, I will concede this was objectively fun.

But the cartoons stop as, true to the title, they’ve gone missing! Horace is found tied up, the cartoons are gone and Pete is obviously responsible. and hilariously so as the rope has his name on it and he says “I don’t know horace horsecollar” There are a LOT of good gags in this one, i’m leaving a lot out for time’s sake. 

So Mickey and Minnie come up with a plan: Mickey sends the.. Quackstreet Boys.... to stall. Now it may shock you but I actually LIKE the backstreet boys. Not to an extreme amount but I did grow up with them, and even now find their music pretty damn good. No my issue is this parody is weak, mostly running entirely on the title pun. The most I can give them credit for is using the outfits from their second album cover. No I wasn’t kidding I did grow up with them. You saw that everywhere so even if I didn’t enjoy their music then and now, i’d know it. But it just feels really weak, like they had no idea what to DO with the boys and instead just slapped them in a lame parody. It dosen’t help i’m not a fan of the classic version of the boys outside of the comics, as I feel later productions should’ve had them actually be distinct, and it took until 2017 to pull that off with the reboot, something I fear may be undone in future productions. Please.. don’t.. you can have Cristina Vee voice them all, I don’t care about the voice I just want to be able to tell them a apart. So yeah I don’t like it but it dosen’t drag the episode down. Just something I wanted to have a moan about. 

So they split up: Mickey, Minnie and Goofy go to shoot a cartoon while Donald runs the club. Naturally he rebrands.. but what really is telling is everyone boos him when he tries to mc.. just for not being Mickey. While Donald does have a massive inferiority complex here, desperately wanting to one up mickey.. with moments like this it’s hard not to see why> He’s JUST as big a star, just as talented , maybe not as nice but just as likeable. He even co-owns the club. But ironically only Mickey Himself, and Daisy of Course, treat him like an equal. To everyone else it’s Mickey’s world and he’s just the sidekick. It’s no wonder he spend sthe entire show desperately trying to outdo mickey: he doesn’t hate the guy, even if he wouldn’t admit it.. but he just wants to be loved too. Sure it’s part ego.

Mickey does return though with the new cartoon. And our only sizeable one so. 

Hickory Dickory Mickey: This is a REALLY good one with a simple enough premise; Goofy wants Mickey to take him to the airport at 6am tomorrow.. which Mickey balks at. 

Seriously i’ve woken up at 3-4am to go to the airport or on road trips. Waking up at 5:30 is pretty standard. Goofy also has good reason to ask as he once BROKE MICKEY OUT OF JAIL. And as seen up top the flashback is done in black and white AND with their old models. I just.. love everything about this and it had to have taken extra effort to make new models for the old models and thus extra money for a quick joke. So kudos best part of the episode. But with his hands tied Mickey is forced to take him and Goofy leaves him his clock which won’t stop ticking. So we get just.. nonstop good gags as Mickey tries to sleep with standouts being his trying to drown it out only to get the tick station, the tock station on the radio and the clock channel on the tv. He also tries to mail it and naturally it comes back thanks to a kangaroo when he ships it to Australia..a nd then get’s progressively batshit as he mails it to HADES (comes back in a puff of smoke) and to the 1920′s (It comes back in black and white with arms and legs). It’s just.. really damn good and I suggest seeking it out. I have liked other shorts better but this was a good one. 

Pete still gloats as they’ll need more cartoons.. only for one to fall out of his jacket and Mickey to shake the rest out. We then get a fun chase between the two, SO many good jokes, my favorite being him dressing up as a dalmation only for Cruella to take measurements, before being cornered by the three and the elephant from tarzan who throws him out.. right next to pepper-ann and her mom “Don’t touch the villian dear”. Good crossover.. and another show that like House of Mouse is not on disney plus don’t ask me why. 

So our heroes win, we get our usual sponsorship and unusually we see the guests leave, a nice bit I wish they did more. All’s well that ends well. 

Final Thoughts: This episode was fantastic. It introduces the cast well, sets up our villian, our basic premise and while only having one major cartoon, uses that as a plot point and it’s a damn good one. A fantastic start to the series and frankly the best place to start if your curious about the show. I’d like to thank Kev for sponsoring this review. If you’d like your own review you can look at comissoin details on my blog or get one guaranteed every month by becoming a 5 dollar patreon. You get one guaranteed review a month, acess to my discord server for my patreons, and to pick a short when I do birthday specials. And contributing to my patreon gets me closer to my stretch goals, even one dollar helps. Next goal not only gets reviews of the super ducktales mini series, but also a darkwing duck episode EVERY MONTH. And with the plug done, i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[maki0725]

I’ve finished the 10th part! Though it’s only one-third...?

I’m planning to rewrite and post on AO3 the parts I’ve posted here.

***************************************

This morning Simon wakes up at a time that is barely morning. He can also see where he is. There are only two days left for the New Year holidays, including today. He feels relieved and a little lonely that he can safely return to his daily life from the day and night reversal. He drank a decent amount last night, and he noticed that both the 720ml bottle and the 1.8l bottle were empty. He isn’t sure how much he drank, but if Gavin stopped drinking, he would have done so, so maybe half and half? There is a myth that good sake does not cause a hangover, but for the amount he drank, he did not have a hangover and is fine. He even remember taking a bath again before going to bed and looking at the night view from the jacuzzi.

"Good morning"

Upon entering the living room, Gavin is sitting at the same kitchen counter as yesterday. Perhaps he is still wearing sleepwear today, he wears a black fluffy hoodie that looks like a sheep on a white T-shirt and wears long pants made of the same material as the hoodie. Music is playing from somewhere.

"……Good morning"

"Eh⁉︎"

Gavin makes his eyes round.

"What"

"Blackquill, do you say “good morning” in the morning?"

"What do you think of me?"

Indeed, it is true that he hesitated for a moment to return the greeting. However, there is no other way to reply.

"I didn’t think you are a normal person."

"I’m sorry to be normal"

"It's not bad .... Yeah, you used to look nice"

"You have always been flashy."

Simon and Gavin became prosecutors at the same time. However, they had barely talked. Gavin became a star as soon as he became a prosecutor, and he spent very little time at the prosecutor's office. On the other hand, Simon studied psychology in addition to work and visited the Space Center frequently, and had no time to interact with the fellow prosecutors, and did not want to do so particularly.

The impressions of each other are nothing more than a distant view. Gavin’s first court was a legend in a sense, but Simon abandoned everything in this world before hearing his impressions in person.

The music that is playing seems to be part of a radio show, with a disc jockey talking about what's called the "ideal New Year."

"Do you want to have something? I don’t have anything special ......"

The New Year's dishes prepared by Gavin were almost eaten yesterday. he offers Simon some bread and side dishes that Gavin bought for himself while new year shopping.

"Can I get them?"

"Yeah, it's better to eat them together. Is it okay for you to have bread from New Year?"

"I'll eat anything"

Even if he was at home, he doesn’t think he had something special. He thinks that at best he puts grilled meat on rice bowl. If he wanted to, he might have prepared Zoni.

"What's this lever?"

"It's a pork rillette. It's delicious when applied to baguettes. I want to have a glass of wine, but I think I should stop it."

There is also a big table, but breakfast is served at the bar counter, which could be used for light meals. Water is prepared on the counter, and Gavin says that Simon can have whichever he likes, carbonated water and ordinary ones, but both are in unfamiliar glass bottles that seem to be imported. He pours it into a glass and drinks it and it certainly tastes good.

French and Italian dishes that he doesn’t usually eat——according to Gavin’s explanation——-are the main ones, but they are all good.

The room is air-conditioned, and Gavin is wearing a T-shirt with his hoodie off.

The hair is lightly tied up and has gold lagging hair on the nape.

"What's wrong?"

"No .... what do you do your hair?"

It is more like an excuse to look at his hair than a serious question, but he used to have short hair in Simon’s memory.

"Are you talking about having it cut? ... Well, sometimes I think I'll cut it, but somehow it's just as it is. It would be hard if yours was so long?"

"I'm used to it"

Certainly there is annoyance. Sometimes his sister and Athena tell him to cut it, but he let them pass. He originally doesn’t care about the appearance, but somehow he doesn’t feel like cutting it until the phantom case is over. However, he doesn’t know what can be said to have been solved and whether he can know that. Perhaps he can never square it forever.

He can't say the story up to that point right now, and from the perspective of Gavin,Simon would remain silent. But he doesn’t seem to care.

"I think it's about time that your laundry is ready, so I'm going to see it."

With that said, he stood up after cleaning up the empty dishes.

"I feel bad. I'll clean it up."

"Thank you, you just need to put everything in the dishwasher .... can you see that there?"

It is his first time to use a dishwasher. There is plenty of room to put tableware for two people at appropriate intervals. His sister's house also had a dishwasher, but the one installed here is much larger. A situation like a home party may also be envisioned. Of course, there is no such thing at his own home. He never even wanted it.

He doesn’t think that the amount of tableware they used now is enough to require a machine. However, neither sponge nor detergent is found in the sink. Perhaps the landlord has no time to wash the dishes. Together with laundry service, it seems like a really reasonable choice.

"Thank you for cleaning up, your clothes has been ready"

Fang Ryu is back with a bag of cleaned clothes.

"Thank you"

He receives a bag from Gavin. Once he changes your clothes, it's a good time to leave here.

After returning to the guest room, he takes out the cleaned clothes and changes. He has been wearing the same since he ordered it when he became a prosecutor, but he doesn’t care about it. When he went to the store that his grandfather used to go to make this outfit, this surcoat was added according to his sister's advice, "Because you're young, don't be fooled." After he bought it, he remember being frustrated when he was told that she didn’t think he really bought it.

He puts on all his clothes and returns to the living room with his luggage. Gavin also changed into a black hoodie and casual cargo pants.

"Shall I drive you home? Where is your house?"

Simon’s home is the official residence of the prosecutor's office. It is very old, the facilities are outdated and there are few residents. However, it is large enough and the location is good. In addition to those, the rent is also cheap. Isn't it less than a tenth of this house? If it were for rent.

He just walked home from here just a week ago, and he doesn’t feel the necessity of a ride. However, he is also reluctant to refuse Gavin’s kindness.

As he crawls around, he can hear the radio talking that was left unattended.

"Then I'll introduce you to an email,'My unforgettable New Year is a hot spring trip. Soak in the hot springs slowly, forget about your daily fatigue, and eat delicious food ... Oh, I want to go there again!" Hey hot spring, ... "

"I haven't been to a hot spring at all ... You seem to like it."

Asked by Gavin. Of course he likes hot springs, but he hasn’t been to soaking relaxed after his release. At best, it's a public bath, and bathing here is the most luxurious.

When he tells him that, Gavin makes his eyes round. Then he laughs as if he came up with something.

"If you like, we’re going to go now? I think we can go in 2 hours one way."

"Is it okay?"

"of course!"

The blue eyes smiles like a child.

They take the highway from the city center and head south. Maybe it's because of Simon’s feelings, but he feels that all the cars that come and go are looking at their car. More than being an eye-catching luxury car, it seems that the reason is driving like a moving road traffic law that never exceeds the speed limit. It's not be tailgated, but he feels like they are overtaken by almost every car.

"You are so square......"

"I'm not slow, everyone is too fast."

Gavin shrugs. They are riding a two-seater sports car, not the day before yesterday's large car. The manufacturer is different, but this is also a German car.

"If you drive at the speed limit with this car, it will stand out."

"I'm used to it"

It is said that this car has been a favorite car for many years. Perhaps because the height of the car was relatively low, it seemed that the feel of the road surface was more vivid than the large car the day before yesterday, but all of them were comfortable to sit in, unlike police cars and convoy cars.

The car goes through a winding road in the city center like a racing game course and enters a wide road. Simon finds that he crosses the river on the prefectural border. After running for a while from there, the proportion of green in the field of vision gradually increases. In spite of the difference of the direction, he remembers when he was attending the Space Center. He remembers picking his sister up several times in her car.

Simon is not very familiar with high-speed nets, so the road is left to Gavin. He doesn’t use car navigation, but he doesn’t get lost. The main roads seem to be in his head.

It seems that this car also has a high-quality stereo, and various music is played, from songs that also Simon is familiar with to songs that he doesn’t know at all. The conversation is choppy, but the music and engine sounds complements it nicely.

The car goes down the freeway well before the destination, passes through a short toll road, and then enters the general road. There is still a distance to the famous hot spring area where he said he would go here, but it seems that Gavin intentionally chose that route. Shortly after getting off the highway, the car comes to the road by the sea. On the road that runs right next to the coast, he can see the sea unobstructed from the left side where he is sitting.

"Is this road good? You can see Mt. Fuji too."

Exactly, the silhouette of a snow-capped mountain is floating in front of him. Simon is told that they can open the roof of the car, but he refuses because he wants to avoid making it stand out any more. Gavin seems to be more cautious, but today he wears a black baseball cap and sunglasses, so at first glance almost anyone may not be able to tell who he is.

He asks a reflexive question to a pop song that came from a car stereo.

"Is this your song?"

The voices seem to be very similar. It is an English song, and he doesn’t think it is Japanese singer at all, but that was the case at that time. Only about 10 days ago, when he sang just for Simon.

"Yeah, it's a popular duo in the 80's. This is a pretty hit song."

Gavin smiles when Simon tells him that he thought it was his voice.

"Is his voice similar to mine? It was often said. I've covered this song, but it's still not as good as the real thing."

"Don’t you play your " real "song?"

He casually asks the question that comes to his mind. He isn’t confident that he could hear all the songs played today, but it didn't seem like they were.

"Um ... you mean the Gavinners’ song, right?"

There seems to be a slight tension in his voice.

"I can’t hear it yet .... Daryan’s guitar. I'm sorry."

Thinking about it, it is a matter of course. The gentle tone rather reveals the hidden sadness.

"I’m sorry"

"... Don't worry. I have too many things like this. If you can't talk about my family, my band, or my friends, it’s natural to be estranged. I don’t feel like meeting my friends, so it's okay. "

Oh, I'm not saying you're not a friend, Gavin laughs. Simon, who has never had a close friend, can answer nothing.

Simon wonders how much Daryan Crescend was to him. He can’t imagine.

Looking out the window, the winter sea just below the road is shining in the sunlight.

"Isn't this beautiful? It's a lot of inspiration."

"Is that so"

Simon, who had never thought of creating something, doesn’t quite understand it, but that's what artists are.

Even though it's midwinter, he can see some people who seem to be surfing.

When he says that there are some whimsical people Gavin laughs and says that he used to come.

"There used to be a villa owned by my family, near here."

This is close to the historically famous summer resort. There’s no wonder that the Gavins have one of the villas.

The car breaks from the road by the sea and heads north, gradually entering the deep green mountains. There is a target hot spring area a little further away. The sports car, which probably doesn’t perform at half its performance because it is owned by Gavin is still heading for its destination with a solid run. After getting off the highway and climbing up and down the winding mountain road, Gavin’s car arrived at the hot spring facility in the mountains.

"I came here for shooting a long time ago, and I liked it so I came by myself a few times, but it's the first time I've come with someone."

It may be unconscious, but Gavin seems to be really good at catching the hearts of others. There are few people who don't feel good because they think they are treated specially by Klavier Gavin. However, it may be that only the minority are around him right now.

"The view from the large communal bath is nice, but the melting hot water is nice."

"That's good"

Each person has a different taste of hot springs, but the quality of the hot spring cannot be surrendered for Simon. That point seems to get along with Gavin.

"And it’s always empty"

"That’s good, but you don't know how long you can come here."

"Let's contribute a little"

They pass through the gate while cracking jokes. After completing the one-day bathing procedure at the reception, they head to the dressing room immediately. In addition to the large communal bath, there’s the private family bath for free if it is vacant, so there is an entrance to the family bath in the middle of the corridor leading to the large communal bath, but there seem to be other guests so the bill in use is hung.

In the spacious dressing room, there is only one young man in addition to Simon and Gavin. Perhaps he’s already up, he is wearing clothes at a distance.

Simon himself didn't mind taking off his clothes in front of others because of his unfortunate experience in prison, but what about Gavin? When Simon glances at him, Gavin had taken off his clothes at an amazing speed. He may be accustomed to changing clothes in public.

"Then, I’m ahead!"

He quickly has become naked and heads for the entrance to the bathhouse with his towel in his hand. Simon took a long time to unbutton and has only taken off his upper body clothes.

Suddenly, Simon feels a strange look. He is sensitive to disturbing signs, though it doesn't seem to be aimed at him. He immediately confirms another customer. He holds his smartphone in a strange way and points it at Gavin. A thick index finger touches the edge of the screen, and a faint shutter sound is heard between the fingers holding the speaker so that it is difficult to hold.

His body moves before he thinks. He grabs the wrist of a young man looking shy and twists it up.

"Ah ..."

A smartphone falls on a floor lined with bamboo and makes a dull noise.

"……What's wrong?"

Gavin, who noticed the uneasy air, asks.

"Get dressed"

"......!”

Gavin takes a breath.

"Fully"

"Got it"

Simon turns to the voyeur and looks down at his horrified face. The eyes behind the glasses with a white round face are almost crying.

"Oh, oh ..."

He picks up the smartphone while feeling the soft touch of the man's wrist with one hand. Looking at it, the camera is still running, and he can see the image just taken at the bottom left of the screen.

"Which do you like a broken phone or the police? I let you choose”

".......”

"Wait, "

Gavin, who has worn all his clothes, approaches and touches Simon’s back. A quiet voice echoes.

"I can't make you a criminal."

"Well, then the police are the only ones."

"Wait a minute. Can you show me that smartphone?"

Gavin picks up a smartphone that has fallen to the floor.

"I'll check it. Okay?"

Gavin glances at the man who nods and quickly checks the photo folder from the camera app that is still running. Simon can’t see the contents from where he is, but Gavin has a rugged expression from beginning to end.

"You seem not to have done camera voyeurism except me."

"I haven't done it! That devil has just inserted ... y-you are so beautiful ..."

The man is desperate. He may have felt the possibility of being overlooked.

"Sure, it's not in the image folder on this smartphone. But ... I can't confirm this alone. There may be other smartphones and cameras. I'll contact the front desk and the police. ProsecutorBlackquill, can you bring him for me?"

The man's pale face gets dyed in despair.

When Simon, the current criminal arrester, has finished preparing the record and leaves the office at the back of the reception, Gavin, who had already been interviewed, is sitting on the bench in the corridor. He’s wearing a cap over his eyes. Considering that it is a customer business, there are no police officials in the public eye. On-site verification was also processed quickly and neatly. The time is already close to the evening.

"Sorry, the day has been ruined ..."

"It's not your fault."

What is bad at all is the voyeur demon.

"There was nothing in the image folder that seemed to be a voyeur other than me. It may be true that the devil was inserted. You see, I'm beautiful."

Gavin jokingly says, but Simon doesn’t laugh. Gavin smiles bitterly.

"So it wouldn't have been a hassle if I pretended not to see it."

"You can't do it, right?"

"... I don't know. I might have missed it in the past. But in Diane's case ... I helped the smuggling because of my abuse of authority, so I haven't been able to do it flexibly since then."

Gavin laughs powerlessly, saying that the detectives may hate him because I can only do stiff things according to the rules.

"Isn't it just more victims if you missed him now?"

The bitter memory of missing the phantom revives in the Simon’s heart. Had he had a little more courage, the future could have been completely different.

"You haven't done anything wrong. Be proud."

"Yeah ... you helped me repeatedly. I'm sorry, it's no longer a hot spring."

Suddenly, Simon notices a guide to a family bath. Luckily it's free. He grabbed Gavin’s arm and lets him stand, and pushes him in half forcibly.

"Is it safe here?"

Gavin rolls his eyes. Usually, it's not a place where friends would enter. However, this is probably the best in terms of security.

"I'll wash your back”

Winking seemingly annoying, Gavin puts his luggage down and puts a "in use" tag on the door.

By the time they leave the hot spring facility, the sun has completely set. Police vehicles have also left.

"By the way, I feel hungry."

It's been a while since they ate breakfast in the morning. Simon couldn't afford to feel hungry because of his unscheduled work, but he feels that his appetite suddenly grows, probably because of the sense of security that he has settled down. It may be time to eat.

"I have a restaurant I wanted to go to, can you go out with me? Of course I’ll treat."

"No, I’ll pay"

Simon was served such a gorgeous New Year dishes, and if he didn’t pay for only one meal there would be a mark against him. He can't imagine what kind of restaurant it is, but it seems that even if the cash he has isn’t enough, it wouldn't exceed the limit of the credit card he rarely use.

Gavin searches for something on his smartphone, says, "I think this is good," and then enters something in the car navigation system. He probably hasn’t been there because he says"I want to go".

They return from the hot springs in the mountains to the suburbs. There aren't many cars on New Year's night. Gavin seems not to have made a reservation, but is there a store in such a place that they can go to suddenly in the New Year?

"Oh, there is"

At the end of Gavin’s line of sight is conveyor belt sushi.

After parking the car in the parking lot, they sit at the table. This kind of restaurant is often crowded, but fortunately they were able to sit down immediately.

Gavin looks curiously looking at the sushi that comes around and the seasonal menu that is posted. He is s also surprised to be able to order his favorite sushi on the touch panel. He gets also excited about the system where the bullet train runs on the upper part of the lane and delivers the ordered items, which would be a production for children.

Simon has been taken to the conveyor belt sushi by Athena several times, so he has a rough idea of ​​how it works. It's usually the same in different stores (He has never seen the bullet train.).

Gavin takes some of the standard items that have come around, challenges individual orders, and then checks the limited items on the touch panel. Suddenly, he seems to have an idea.

"This looks delicious. Can we share one for each?"

“…………!”

"Oh, was it a violation of manners? Excuse me”

"No, I don't think so, it's a good idea."

He has just felt a little too intimate. It's possible between family members, but he has never shared one pair of sushi even with Athena, but rather she took a plate or emptied it, and as soon as she ate it, she took the next plate or received her order. When her best friend was present, she said she didn't know if she could eat a plate, and Athena cheerfully declared, "I'll eat half!", and as a result, they shared a pair of sushi one for each.

"I was wondering if we could share in such a casual place, but I don't know much about this, so it would be helpful if you could tell me if something was wrong"

What kind of position do you think you are in the line that you should not do that other than me?

"It's not strange, if you don't mind it one another, there’s no problem”

"Then, can I order the monkfish livers?"

Gavin squints happily when he sees Simon nodding. It’s not bad to share a small happiness of about 100 yen per plate.

*********************************************

Washing one’s back is not sexual at all, it’s a kind of communication like grandpa and grandson(or seniors and juniors, there is a clear distinction between the seniors and the juniors even if the age difference is a little.).

[yhs-okami]

"all the small things" by blink 182

A/N: This one was hard ngl, but I'm really proud of how it turned out bc we need more wlw vibes in this fandom

Soul sighs softly, fidgeting with the feathers on her arm boredly.

Tonight was supposed to be the night that Soul finally proposed to Sookie, but her boss had decided last minute that he needed more help around the store and the two women were in need of as much money as possible now that their landlord had raised rent by another hundred dollars so Soul took the extra hours.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Soul was able to clock out. Her joints ached from the repetitive motion of putting up stock and the little box in her pocket felt like a hundred pound weight of disappointment. The owl woman gets into her car just in time for it to start raining against the night sky. She huffs and starts up her car, heading home as some random music from the radio plays softly, just enough to calm her senses.

As Soul pulls into the apartment complex parking lot, she smiles upon seeing the lights in the apartment window still on. Bolting quickly through the rain as she doesn't have her umbrella with her until she reaches the lobby and just as quickly goes up the stairs since the elevator is out of order. Again.

"Hey, babe, I'm home!" Soul calls into the apartment as she opens the door only to be met with silence.

"Sookie? Love?" She calls again, wandering further inside.

The living room wasn't lit with the usual lights and was instead lit with a mass amount of warm toned fairylights and the occasional candle, giving off a soft cinnamony smell. Soul smiles as she breathes it in, her favorite.

On the couch, there was a single pastel pink rose with a little letter attached to it with a white string. Soul sits as she gently takes it, fiddling with the stem as she unfolds the paper.

'My Dearest,

I have a little surprise for you. Please go change out of your work uniform and meet me outside on the balcony. You'll love it, I promise :)'

Soul smiles and nods to herself, gently tucking the letter away.

As quickly as she can, she rushes to the bedroom to put on her favorite outfit to wear for these romantic dinners that Sookie plans, a simple dark red dress that poofs out a lirtle just above her knees with a halter neckline, pairing it with a matching kitten heels. She gives herself a little look over in Sookie's vanity mirror, grinning at how nicely the dress still fits her after four years, cupping the curve of her hips just right. Once she's satisfied, she makes her way out to balcony, opening the curtain to the sliding glass with a soft gasp of awe.

A tarp had been thrown over to top of the pergola, keeping anyone outside from getting wet and creating a soft pitter-patter sound. More candles had been lit, left to drip down onto a floral candle dish on the center of the small glass table at which Sookie was sat. The swamp monster woman herself had cleaned up very well, her normal blue sundress swapped out for black pinstripe dress pants and a white lacy blouse and her auburn hair tied up into a loose bun. Her grey eyes shone with excitement when she looked up to see Soul.

"Welcome home, Soulmate." Sookie says with a grin.

Soul laughs softly and blushes a little at the use of Sookie's favorite pet name to use.

Sookie gives her girlfriend a large hug before presenting her with a bowl of spaghetti with a meaty sauce.

"I tried a new recipe tonight for the sauce, so I hope you like it."

Soul nods.

"You know you make the best food this side of town. There's no hoping because I will." She teases softly, beaming at the giggle Sookie gives.

The two women catch up over what happened over the day as they are, Soul spinning tails of her idiot coworkers and Sookie explaining her ideas for three pieces of art she was commissioned to draw, as they eat, simply enjoying each other's company.

After a while, Soul looks down at her lap, where she hid the box with the engagement ring for Sookie, and she considers. Maybe it's not too late.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Both women ask in unison, laughing in surprise.

"You go first, dear." Soul says with a little smile, thankful for the moment to soothe her nerves.

"Well, y'know, I've been thinking for a while that we've been together so long, almost fifteen years and we've done so much together, but I've just been wondering. Do you think there's anything else we could do?" Sookie asks, standing from her seat across the table with a hand hidden behind her back.

Soul's eyes widen, her heart speeding up and her mouth going dry as she realizes where Sookie is going with this. As if the world was in slow motion, Soul watches as Sookie gets down on one knee in front of her, presenting a small velvet box from behind her back and opening it to reveal a golden ring with a single blue gem embedded into the band.

"Soul Owl, will you marry me?"

Soul shakes herself out of her frozen stupor and she laughs, causing a little confusion and a lot of panic from Sookie until she sees Soul grab a small box herself. She opens it, showing of the delicate silver ring, one larger shimmering white gem flanked by two smaller pink pearls, and Sookie laughs as well.

"Uno reverse?" Soul jokes, sliding down to the ground to wrap Sookie into a bear hug.

Sookie giggles and returns the hug.

"God, we both share one braincell, don't we?" Sookie asks, pulling down to put her ring onto Soul's finger, Soul mimicking the action.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, though." Soul says before giving Sookie a joyful kiss.

Send a song for some vibe writing?

[theperksofbeingbarbie]

Trainspotter

Summary: Ben is basically in love with the girl who rides the same train as him but is too afraid to talk to her. Klaus on the other hand.... 

WARNINGS: Language; Mention of sex?; Mention of blood?; It’s super tame, my dudes. 

Word Count: 2,318 

Paring: Ben Hargreeves x Fem!Reader

A/N: Pure fluff. Fluffy fluff. The fluffiest. AU where Ben is alive and goes on to be a graphic designer. I hope you like it! The world needs more Ben!!!!!

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

This was ridiculous. There was no reason that he should be attached to the random pretty girl who happened to ride the same train as him. It was stupid! He barely knew anything about her! The things he did know about her would probably place him in the category of ‘stalker’. She ate an apple as she scrolled through her phone. She would usually finish her apple by the third stop, wrapping it up in a napkin before pulling out her book. She would then read until one stop before her own, always managing to look up at the perfect time. He once noticed that she had the same book for five days when her usual turn around time was two to three days. That was the same day he realized he was being fucking creepy. 

But here Ben was, completely and obnoxiously attached to the pretty girl who would ride the same train as him in the morning. It had been two weeks since he had seen her last and he missed her. He missed seeing what book she was reading that day. Missed the way she would bob her head when the group of teenagers would play their music too loud. Missed the way her polite smile seemed to just get a little brighter when it was directed toward him, though he was sure that part was all in his head. 

“Why do you have to work all the way across town?” 

Ben sighed as he looked over at his brother, rolling his eyes. “Because it’s the only job I could get and we’re too poor to live on the same side of town?” 

Klaus just groaned in response, resting his head back against the window as the train slowed down for another stop. Klaus would rather die than go to work with Ben, but their apartment building was being inspected and Ben deemed Klaus ‘a danger to society and our lease.’ So, he was forced to schlep across the city to sit in the cafe under Ben’s boring office while he doodled logos or whatever he did. Hopefully there was at least someone cute to flirt with there. Klaus sat back up to watch people file into the train car, feeling his brother shift awkwardly when a pretty girl climbed on, sitting just down the car from them. He watched Ben make adjustments to his outfit, muttering something under his breath. “Who is that?” 

Ben jumped when he heard Klaus beside him, stammering as he glanced back over. Oh good, she was still going to start her day with an apple. How did that become such a comforting constant in his life? “I don’t know,” he admitted, looking back over at Klaus. Oh god, oh god, oh god, what was he supposed to do?! He made his peace with never seeing the girl again, what was he going to do now?! Ben started to feel his stomach churn and wasn’t sure if that was a normal stomach ache or the beast that lay beneath his skin threatening to get out. Oh, that would be a great impression to leave on a pretty girl. ‘Hey, I’m Ben, I’ve been kinda stalking you for... I don’t even know how long. Oh, please ignore the blood from our fellow passengers. That was just my interdimensional tentacle monster. Sorry, what’s your name?’ 

Ben was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize Klaus had already stood and made his way over to the girl. His eyes went wide when Klaus actually started to talk to her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quell the anxiety that was filling him. ‘This is fine. This is perfectly fine. Klaus is just... OH FUCK ME HE’S POINTING.’ Ben smiled awkwardly, waving a bit. His heart all but stopped when she smiled and laughed at whatever Klaus had said, praying to any god he could think of that she wasn’t more interested in Klaus. 

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

All you wanted was simplicity. Was that too much to ask? 

Apparently. Nothing in your life could be simple. You had to have an annoying roommate that managed to get you thrown out of your flat for propositioning your landlord in exchange for a month’s of free rent. It wasn’t even like you were struggling! She just wanted to go to a music festival and knew you would kill her for spending her half of the rent.  

This was worse. 

Luckily you were only on your other friend’s sofa for two weeks, but it still sucked. You just wanted to go back to your little routines: eating an apple as you looked over the news on your phone, reading part of your book on your way to work, smiling at the cute guy who always rode in the same train car as you. Sure, you could do the first two when your friend drove you to work, but there was no cute guy to smile at when you would look up and you honestly enjoyed those little moments with the stranger. 

But peace was finally restored. 

You sighed as the doors opened, gently moving past another regular to find a seat, glancing over to see the cute guy with someone else. The sight of him made you smile as you grabbed your apple and your phone. Your usual routine was interrupted by cute guy’s friend. 

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m Klaus,” he introduced with a smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

“[Y/N],” you replied, albeit a little confused, shuffling the things in your hands before putting your phone in your lap so the apple could replace it, shaking his hand with your now free one. 

“[Y/N],” he repeated, leaning on the pole that was closest to him. “That is such a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman.” 

Oh, great. Just how every woman in New York wants to start their day. You forced a smile, picking your phone back up, hoping Klaus would take the hint. 

“You know, I think my brother over there has a crush on you. His name is Ben.”

That got your attention real quick. You looked back up to follow Klaus’ finger, smiling a bit when your eyes landed on the stranger you had a crush on yourself. 

“He’s adopted, but don’t tell him. He has no idea that we’re not actually twins. Ugh, you should have seen him when it was hinted he wasn’t actually related to our black sister,” Klaus whispered dramatically, holding his hand up to cover his mouth from the other. You laughed at his joke, shaking your head a bit as you looked back up at Klaus. “How about I take you over and introduce you? Give him a train buddy when I’m not here?” 

You chewed on your lip for a moment before nodding, gathering your things so you could follow Klaus to meet the cute guy officially.

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

Three weeks. 

It had been three weeks since Klaus had finally introduced the strangers who had been pining for each other without knowing each other. 

“I can’t believe it took you this long to ask her out!” Klaus complained, standing in the door of the bathroom, constantly opening it back up every time Ben would shut it. “I set you up for a little action in a bathroom at the very next stop and you just... talked for three weeks?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t want to have sex next to a half dead crack addict in a bathroom in Red Hook five minutes after meeting someone,” Ben replied with probably his fifteenth eye roll in five minutes. A new record.  

“Don’t knock it until you try it!” 

Ben just stared at Klaus in disgust, trying and failing to close the bathroom door yet again. 

“Alli-cat called and said the reservation is all set. Just casually name drop and you’re in.” Klaus smiled, pushing Ben to face him, helping him fix his tie. “You look good, I promise.” He clapped both of Ben’s cheeks when he was done. “You’re good. Get out of here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” 

Sixteen eye rolls. Ben grabbed his suit jacket and left, sending a text that he was on his way to the restaurant. 

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

Okay, this was fine. It was fine. You were just going on a date with the cute boy from the train who happened to be the sweetest guy you had ever met. Oh god, this was really happening. After casually imagining what dates with him would be like, it was really happening. You took a deep breath, smoothing out your skirt for what was probably the hundredth time as you waited for Ben. You would attempt to make yourself look cool and casual every time a cab pulled up, absolutely falling apart when someone else would climb out. You started to pace again when yet another car opened to reveal anyone else but Ben. 

“[Y/N].” 

You turned when you heard your name, smiling when you finally saw the man you were waiting for. “Ben, hi.” You leaned in for a hug, noting that he smelled amazing. 

“You look great,” the pair said in unison, laughing at themselves. 

“Thank you,” you replied, looking down at the dress you were wearing. “I wasn’t sure how fancy to go. After you said Allison Hargreeves had to get us in, I was worried I should’ve went full red carpet.” 

Ben laughed, shaking his head as he did a once over. “No, no, you look perfect. Absolutely stunning.” 

You blushed under his gaze, running your hand up your opposite arm. “Thank you. You look quite handsome too.” Your smile got brighter when you noticed a bit of a blush appear on his cheeks as well, melting at how cute your date was. 

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

Ben took a deep breath once he was back out in the fresh air, looking over at [Y/N] with a smile. “That was nice.” And he meant every word. He thought the conversation was nice. He seemed to make her laugh, and not just friendly laughing like people did with Luther. It seemed genuine. 

“It was! I had a lot of fun, Ben!” 

Ben nodded in agreement, looking down the street. “I’m still fucking starving,” he admitted, scrunching his nose up. He looked over when he heard her laughing, chuckling a bit as well. 

“I thought it was just me,” she agreed, leaning into him, covering her mouth as she continued to laugh. 

“The food was so small! I’m going to have to harass my sister for suggesting that place.” Ben scratched the back of his neck. “Do you wanna go somewhere else? Second dinner?” 

“Please.” 

Ben’s eyes went wide when he felt her hand slip into his own, looking down at their now interlaced fingers before looking back up. This was really happening! The cute girl from the train was actually, really, honestly into him! “C’mon, I know the perfect spot.”  

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

When you imagined your dream date, you didn’t imagine being in one of your fanciest outfits, eating a greasy taco from a shady truck in the middle of Harlem, but you wouldn’t have traded it for anything. This was so much better than the fancy restaurant Ben had taken you to. 

“Okay, so I remember Klaus’ thing was talking to the dead, right?” Ben nodded as he took another bite. “Spaceboy is... Luther?” Another nod. “And his thing is strength?” Ben hummed, holding a napkin to his mouth to avoid any fallout, eyes crinkling when he heard you laugh a bit at him. “And then Allison is the Rumor. She was probably my favorite growing up. Who was the knife one?” 

“Diego. The Kraken. He can also hold his breath indefinitely.” 

“Diego! Yes! And The Boy spatial jumps. What’s his real name?” 

“Five.” Ben laughed when you gave him a look of confusion. “I mean it! He refused to take a name from mom. Said a robot couldn’t really love us so why would he let her name him?” He waved off your sad look, reaching over to grab a few more napkins. 

“I know you’re the Horror, but you never really did interviews,” you commented, taking another bite of your taco. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you added quickly when you noticed him deflate a bit. 

Ben cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Might as well warn you ahead of time. Uh...” He set his taco back down, staring as it slowly unfolded on the plate. “So I am a... Portal that I can open and there’s these... Tentacles. I have a weird... Bond with them? If that makes sense? I can control them but they don’t belong to me.” 

You listened to him explain his power and how it worked, taking a sip of your drink as you contemplated that. “It’s rude they called you the Horror when you could be Bentacles.” You looked back up to see him staring at you in disbelief. “Bentacles is so much cuter. The Horror doesn’t fit you at all,” you continued, shrugging casually, placing your cup back down. You jumped when you suddenly felt his lips on your own, kissing him back as soon as you realized what was happening. “So calling you Bentacles gets you going or...?” 

Ben blushed, ducking his head in embarassment as he settled back in his seat. “I just- I never thought this would go this well, you know? I thought you would be freaked out about...” He motioned to his midsection. 

“I’ve seen enough anime to know that tentacles can be an asset.” You tried to keep your face straight as long as possible, laughing loudly when you saw all five stages of grief pass over Ben’s face. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t-” You were cut off by his lips returning to yours again. 

[buckys-old-habits]

Broken Shower (Bucky x Reader)

Prompt: “My shower’s broken but I’ve got a date tonight could I possibly use your shower please?” “Oh sure (neighbour that I’ve been crushing on for the past six months) of course you can use my shower to get ready for your date (fuck fuck fuck)”

Word Count: 1490

A/N: This is my first fanfiction on here. I hope you like it. 

Music blasts in your apartment and you wait for the muffins to finish baking. The delicious treat already smells like heaven and you are excited to try them. Humming along to the music you wash the used dishes, happily swinging your hips.

Over the loud song, you nearly missed the knock on your apartment door. Sighing you turn down the music a bit and dry your hands. “Coming”, you call out and walk to the door, taking a look through the fish eye. Blue eyes and brown tied back hair, all completed by an amazing jawline, shit!

Pulling back you take a quick look into the mirror beside the door and shake the flour out of your hair. Patting down your clothes you take a deep breath and put on your most charming smile. Then you finally open the door and come face to face with the person you have a crush on.

Bucky Barnes, a neighbor of yours and one of the most handsome men you have ever seen in your life. You spend many nights thinking about the things you would do with him and not all of them are innocent. But sadly you never took the courage and talked with him more than the normal 'Hey' and 'How are you?'. So him standing at your door is both exciting and confusing.

“Hey, Bucky”, you greet him and he smiles this god damn dazzling smile of his. “(Y/n). This may sound strange considering we never talk much”, Bucky clears his throat and rubs his neck. “But can I ask you a favor?” You frown but nod. “Go on.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and smiles an apologetic smile, already sorry for the weird following question. “My shower’s broken but I’ve got a date tonight could I possibly use your shower please?” Well, not what you expected and you feel your chest grow heavy on the fact that he has a date, but how could you say no to this man. Especially when he wants to strip down in your apartment... Okay, calm down.

“Oh, sure. Of course, you can use my shower to get ready for your date.” He looks relieved and pulls you into a surprise hug. “Thank you. I will get my clothes, just wait a moment.” And with that he is off to his apartment and you are frozen in shock, his warmth still tingling on your body. You are way too infatuated with this man and now he will use your shower... to get ready for a date.

Only moments later Bucky is back, a neatly folded outfit in his hands and a smile on his face. “I will be quick, don't worry.” You wave him off and he steps in, looking around. His eyes drink in your choice of decoration and you feel slightly anxious. “Did you bake something?”, he asks and sniffs the air, the scent of the muffins intensified because they are nearly done.

“Yeah, Pina Colada muffins”, you answer and in this moment the timer goes off. You walk into the kitchen and take a look into the oven, satisfied with the color of the muffins. You turn off the oven and take your oven mitts to pull the treats out.

“They look amazing”, Bucky stands beside you and you smile at his compliment.   “Wait 'til you tasted one. They are heavenly.” Bucky chuckles and you take a look at him, remembering why he is here. “Ah, the bathroom is down the hall on the right side, second door. Towels are under the sink in the cabinet.”

“Right. Thank you, (y/n)”, surprisingly he sounds a bit sad but you shake it off as wishful thinking and watch him move away from you into the hall. Sighing you pop the muffins out of the tray and set them onto a cooling rack. You hear the water starting and you have to really concentrate to not think about Bucky stripping and the water droplets running down his body.

Shit, why can't you control your mind when it comes to him? His blue eyes are like the ocean on a windy day and his body is godlike. His muscles rippling under his shirts when he crosses his arms over his chest. The metal arm is something else, captivating and you would love to know how it feels on your skin. And there goes your mind again, into the spiral of not so innocent imagines.

“Uhm... (y/n)?” His voice startles you out of your thoughts and you whirl around only to see his... naked chest. Oh god! Water drops cling to his skin, making it shimmer in the sunlight streaming in from your window. Are the heavens against you right now? “I forgot my hairdryer. Can I use yours?”, he rubs his wet hair with a towel and you see his muscles moving under his skin.

“Sure”, you squeak out, a blush forming on your cheeks. “Left side of the mirror cabinet.” He smiles at you again and you shallow hard. “Thank you. I owe you.” His backside is just as amazing as his front and you have to look away while he walks back into the bathroom.

You have to remember that he has a date, with a woman, tonight. He is not yours and you don't even think that you are his type. You saw the women he brought home, they are not you. But still... you would give a lot to have him going on a date with you. “How pathetic”, you chide yourself and turn back to the muffins, taking one.

After eating it, you go back to washing the rest of the dishes. Ten minutes later Bucky comes down the hall into the kitchen again. Clean and clothed handsomely.

The combination of the dark blue undershirt and the lighter blue jeans shirt is casual but nonetheless fitting for him. The black jeans hug his legs perfectly and his hair is combed back, a few strands hanging in his eyes which he pushes away.

“Done?”, you ask and throw the little towel you dried the dishes with on the counter. He nods and looks at the muffins, seemingly deciding if he should ask you if he can take a taste or not. You push the rack towards him, saying that he can have one if he wants to. “Thanks”, he grabs one and bites into it, humming in delight at the taste. “You were right, these are amazing.”

You take a glance at the clock and turn back to Bucky. “When is your date?” He looks up at the clock too and frowns. “In half an hour. I should leave. Sorry and thanks, (y/n).” Another muffin finds its way into his hand and he grins. “I will take this.” “Do that, it's fine.”

You lead him back to the front door and wave goodbye before closing the door and sighing. This was a rollercoaster of emotions right there. Hopefully, he will come back sometime else, with more time and another reason.  

The next day comes around and you are on your way to work when you meet the landlord. Remembering Bucky's broken shower you walk towards him and mention it to him. He thanks you and you leave for work.

Later that day you get a message from your landlord saying that the shower is completely fine. This confuses you, why would Bucky come to you if his shower is okay? But you push it aside, concentrating on your work again.

Finally, you finish and go home again, softly humming and thinking about the few left muffins you still have in your kitchen. “Yesterday was fun. We should do this again sometime, Buck.” You stop at the male voice, your mind reeling. Did Bucky go on a date with a man? Is he bi? “Shut up, Sam, I didn't think that it was fun that Steve got himself drunk. Whining about his ex.” That was Bucky.

So it was not a date? It was just an evening with his boys. And his shower was okay, too. Did he trick you?

“How did my idea go, by the way?”, Sam asks and you hear Bucky choking, probably on his own spit. “I still can't believe you got me to go to her and ask to shower in her apartment. But it went well”, he answers and you gasp. He tricked you!

“Well, you didn't man up and told her you liked her and you lost the bet to me, so...” A blush forms on your cheeks and you decided that you heard enough. Quickly you slip into your apartment and lean against the door. Bucky likes you.

And he tricked you into showering in your apartment. But most importantly... he likes you too.

Thought? 

Tags: (first one, so my mutuals maybe.) 

@catalinaacosta @n3rdy-kitten @starrynightfantasies 

If you wanna be tagged in future works, send me an ask~ 

[killerxqween]

I Want it All- Gwilym Lee x Reader (Chapter 1/ Part 1)

Summary: You are a 19 year old student attending NYU and your life is slowly going downhill. You’re struggling financially, you aren’t happy with your major, and you hate where you live.

Your friend proposes the idea of getting a sugar daddy, like her because it’ll help with your situation. She sets you up on a date with a contact from her sugar daddy and things get wild from there.

What will happen when you find out the mystery man is Gwilym Lee and how will your feelings develop towards each other? Read to find out 👑

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Hi everyone! It’s Dani and this is my first ever fanfic here on Tumblr! I used to write and I stopped, but I decided to start writing so here I am. I wrote a lot for the first chapter, because I really wanted to set the stage. The first part is more of the setting and helping the plot develop. The second part is when Gwilym comes in 🤪I hope you all enjoy this fanfic! Follow me for more!!! Besos, my lovelies ❤️

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Another day, another struggle.

You had just gotten an eviction notice from your landlord saying you had 30 days to pay your rent or you would be kicked out of your minuscule one bedroom, one bathroom apartment. Sometimes you wondered why the hell you decided to rent an apartment instead of living on campus.

Yes, you attended New York University with a full scholarship. After years of money struggles and hard work in high school, you got into your dream school to study Psychology. But even though you had achieved one of your goals, your life was far from perfect.

The biggest issue was your family. Even though they supported you while you were in grade school, your parents started to have a fall out and eventually filed for divorce. This led to financial struggles which meant they didn’t have the capacity to send you money because they needed to care for your two younger siblings. This meant you had to take up two jobs; one as a waitress and one in your local Sephora, which was extremely difficult to maintain because you were in university. These jobs also barely made enough for you to pay your rent. Some weeks you had to decide between saving money for your rent and buying food.

The other issue was one you ultimately felt you had no control of; you didn’t enjoy your chosen major. Yes, you do have control of what you want to do but, your dream had always been to be a musician. And as passionate as you are about music, trying to get into the music industry was virtually impossible while you were studying. Your final option would have to be dropping out of University to pursue music full time, but you knew that it would be impossible to live off of minimum wage and pursue a career that was difficult to be successful in. So you decided to major in psychology, which you enjoyed but knew it was something you would never truly be happy in.

Basically, it was difficult being a 19 year old independent scholar living in New York City.

You sighed and put the slip of paper onto the counter in your small kitchen. You lifted your phone and checked the time. 12:37. You had a day off from school today so you and your best friend Carina were going to a little café for lunch at 1:00 pm. The café was a five minute walk from your apartment so you decided to grab a drink and get ready.

You arrived at the café 2 minutes early. Carina was already seated at a small table that was in the corner of the café. You sat down at the table with your friend and took in your surroundings.

You had been to this café many times. It was a small space, but decorated in a way that made it feel very spacious and cozy. There were air plants hung all over the area, decorating the red bricked walls.

You smiled and spoke to your friend. “How are you! It’s been so long.”

You said excitedly to Carina. She has been your closest friend since you started classes in NYU. You had met her in your college writing class and hit it off immediately. She was a fierce 20 year old who knew what she wanted, unlike you. She had this bright, strawberry blonde hair with big, bold hazel eyes. She was extremely beautiful and confident in herself.

On the other hand, you were more reserved and less outspoken than her. Even though you were more introverted than her, you were still very confident and bold, but you didn’t show it as much as her. You liked your (e/c) eyes and you loved the way your soft (h/c) hair flowed. You just didn’t like showing it because you grew up with a family that saw self-love and self-confidence as conceited.

Carina smiled brightly at you, “I’ve been great! I went on vacation to Dubai with Rick for a week! It was so beautiful, we stayed at the Burj Al and everything!”

Ah yes, her sugar daddy Rick. Carina had signed up to be a sugar baby over two years ago and met Rick. He was a 42 year old Billionaire from Long Beach, California. He had close contacts with everyone, including famous actors and wealthy businessmen. He was handsome and Carina was very fond of him. Their relationship was strictly business, for the most part. She got whatever she wished for, including money, designer clothes, cars, and luxurious vacations as long as she accompanied Rick to parties, meetings and galas. That part wasn’t so bad, unless you took into consideration that one of the terms of being a sugar baby meant you had to sexually please the sugar daddy.

She didn’t mind it, though. She was financially stable and she got anything she desired. Not to mention Rick was not bad to look at.

“That sounds like fun, girl. I’m glad you enjoyed your trip.” You said with a sigh at the end.

“What’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing, it’s just I got an eviction notice from my landlord saying I had to pay rent in 30 days or I’ll be kicked out. I barely have enough to feed myself, Carina. I don’t know what to do.”

She smirked. You knew what she was going to say next.

“Why don’t I ask Ri-“

“No. You may be comfortable with giving fake love to man in exchange for money but I’m not.”

“It’s not just money, though. You can’t pay rent? He’ll pay for an entire fucking penthouse. You can’t buy food? He’ll take you to 5 star restaurants. You don’t have enough money to buy a new sweater? He’ll buy you the whole damn Gucci store, baby. It’s worth it. Just take it into consideration.”

And you did. Carina had told you about the offer many times, every time you mentioned you were struggling, actually. This time, you were extremely stressed and thought about what life would be like if you had no worries at all. Maybe this proposal wouldn’t be so bad? As if you hadn’t had friends with benefits before.

“So how exactly does the whole sugar baby thing work? Do I go out with him? Do I go when he calls?” You asked curiously.

“Basically, before you sign anything or agree to any terms, you go out for a meeting. Basically, it’s a date. He gets to know you, you get to know him, and you’ll both decide if you’re interested in sugar dating. The terms differentiate for each guy. But usually they ask you to accompany them to an event or they ask for a favor and they’ll pay you back with whatever you want.”

You stared at her with a pensive face. You knew that a favor meant sex or any sexual act and you didn’t know if you wanted to go down that route. But what other option did you have really?

“Fine. Ask Rick to set me up with one of his contacts. But I’m not agreeing to anything yet, I wanna see how this ‘meeting’ goes” I said while putting air quotes around meeting. I knew that I might regret this in the future, but right now, this was my final option.

She smiled at me. “Perfect, I’ll call him when I get home then I’ll text you with details! There’s no need to worry, babe. You’re going to be fine, and if you don’t like the guy then you can decline the offer. Just have an open mind. Okay?”

“Okay” You said with a breathy sigh.

4 days later...

—————————————————

Carina texted you back about 4 hours after grabbing lunch with her.

She had gotten you a meeting with “some hot, wealthy, British guy who is interested in a potential relationship, that is completely business of course.” She has sent the specific date, time, and location of the meeting. You were shocked.

Your potential suitor had gotten you both reservations at Masa; one of the most expensive restaurants in New York City. You didn’t know why you were surprised, you expected nothing less from a wealthy man wanting to make an impression on a girl he wanted. But, you had never seen anyone waste that much on a simple meal, it astounded you.

Well now it was the day of the meeting with the mystery man and you were extremely nervous, to say the least. The days had passed too quickly for your liking and now you had to go meet him.

“What did I get myself into” you quietly mumbled to yourself while checking you appearance in the mirror.

You looked hot, if you were being honest with yourself. You had worn your most expensive outfit and your most luxurious jewelry. You picked out a black formal dress that accentuated every curve on your frame that you had saved up for over a year to get. You wore matching black, glossy heels and your diamond necklace which you had received as a 16th birthday gift from your family.

You took in your appearance one last time and thought about canceling. It wasn’t too late to say that you weren’t feeling well, you hadn’t met the guy yet. But you were desperate for money and somewhat curious about the whole ordeal. You gave up the idea of canceling and walked out the door.

-End of Chapter One/ Part One-

(Chapter One/ Part Two is now up)

-Dani 👑

[dionnecox0576-blog]

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[uncuentofriki]

No me olvides (english)

It’s freezing here. Now I hope my boss can let me borrow a laptop OR I can buy one this christmas or if not I will leave this fanfic on hiatus until January.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] 

3- I want to kiss your lips

Hector had just two months on his new job.Actually two months since he got the job after lots of closed doors. It was obvious that no one was going to hire an ex-convict, and let's not talk someone with his precedents.

His landlord, a cranky old man that everyone called Chicharrón or Cheech, heard that on the comunitary center there was a vacant for a new music teacher and they couldn't say no to him. The director owned so much favors to Cheech that he had to accept.

"And now you can finally pay me the rent, Hector... And my van, my minifridge and everything else you lost" and the landlord closed the door on Hector's face when the young man tried to show his gratitude.

Hector had just two months on his new job when one day a chamaco with a red hoodie and a space between his teeth came, begging him to teach him how to play guitar but that he couldn't go to classes every day because his aunt didn't had to know that he was studying music but anyway promised to be the best student ever.

So he accepted the weird conditions of the kid. Only then he knew that there was a contest aimed to kids and teenagers studying music on the comunitary centers of the city to play with Ernesto de la Cruz and La Noche Triste if they became the winners.

It was his oportunity to finally find the man that became more slippery than the water running through your fingers.

Miguel had THE Talent, which made Hector wonder about the personality of that aunt that forbade the music. With the talent of the chamaco, Ernesto could say goodbye to his title of King of the Mexico's rock as soon as Miguel reached a stage. Every parent would kill of a children with that level of talent.

Maybe the chamaco’s aunt was an old and bitter spinster that though that rock music was satanic. One of those old ladies that barely leaves church and has always a rosary on their hands, more interested on the faults of the neighbor than their own. Maybe she even could wear a horrible shawl to cover herself from an inexistent cold that doesn't exist, just to provoke pity.

Hector's life was surrounded by the No. He tried to talk with Ernesto on his luxurious apartment on an exclusive building and the answer was always "He can't see you today". He tried to find a job and always "We will call you". But the NO that hurted him the most was when he tried to talk with those girls he once called his friends.

"I'm sorry, after what happened... she left us totally, Hector. You destroyed her".

That was enough to understand that of course they still talked to her, but she asked them to don't let him find her. And he just couldn't blame her.He must be an idiot to try to search those eyes that once left him sleepless. What was the use to continue that torture?

"Hey, Hector, why don't you have a girlfriend?" Miguel asked him one day. He was starting to learn the easiest songs of rock. "The girls of the theater company are always drooling over you"

"I'm busy, chamaco"

"Umm... aren't you gay?" The teacher laughed. "Why you think that?” "I don't know. My aunt has a partner on her business and every time some girl tries to flirt with her, he gives that excuse, but sometimes another guy comes with him to the house and they kiss each other. My aunt told me that they're a couple." the kid shrugged. "I don't mind if you're or not. You're the best teacher ever" Hector tousled Miguel's hair. "I want to be like you when I grow up, chamaco" "Well, if you can't find a girlfriend, I can arrange a date between you and my aunt" The idea of this kid trying to form a couple between him and a cranky old woman was too bad for him, but he didn't tried to explain anything. "I don't know, you know that I'm too busy with the next recital" "Andale, Hector! You're a good-looking guy, I think she could like you. Or just sing something to her and she will drool over you!" "I guess it will not kill me to try to have some fun. But if it goes wrong, you will pay me, chamaco, you will have to practice that much that you will get blisters on your blisters. And I will go with one condition: You must tell your aunt about the classes. Your aunt will think it's werid that you know an adult and you're trying to get a date for her" Miguel's enthusiasm dropped to zero. "If she doesn't want me to come here anymore?" "I will talk to her" and tried his best smile. "You will see how easy I will convince her.

He was unsure if he could take Imelda out on a date. Even worse, she was always surrounded by her friends and it just intimidated him more. "If you don't tell anything to her, carnal, I will. Your muse is such a beauty, although she's so bronca" Ernesto joked, combing his mustache. "No, the first to see the girl is the one who keeps her" Hector replied, serious. His friend knew that the writter of La Noche Triste was absolutelly smitten. His songs became better since La Coronela came into their lives. "If you continue like that, it will count like I saw her first. C'mon, she can't shoot you with that gunshot, it's just a prop" Hector confided on Ernesto for everything, since he stopped his bullers on elementary school. Ernesto knew what he could do to earn Imelda's heart, he was so good with the girls. Hector had been seeing Imelda so many times before, some of them similar to the first encounter they had. But now they spended the afternoons after she sleeped on his place seeing movies but barely putting any atention to them, more entertained telling each other about their lifes and dreams or singing together. And he could spend his entire life on that little universe but soon or later she had to go back to her house and then he just had a trembling on his bones that he just couldn't cure with anything. It had to be her or no one else. Imelda or die. So he had to tell her. There was a night, on the Narcisa Pistolas Bar, Las Barraganas played before La Noche Triste. The girls of the band were making toasts for them from the bar. They were playing Nube Liquida, their last song, when Hector noticed a man getting close to Imelda. There was no room for doubt that the guy was drunk, judging by the gesture that she made, trying to get away from him. They finished the song and, after leaving his guitar on its case, he went to rescue his damsel in distress. "Hey, Coronela, and you wouldn't want to change your gunshot?" the man was dragging each word, scanning the girl from her neck to her ankles, imagining what was behind all the outfit. "A useful gunshot" Imelda almost kicked him, trying to don't throw up from the disgust that such a behavior gave her when she noticed that Hector was close. If his eyes could kill, the refined gentleman would had prefered a less painful way to die. "I told you no... because my boyfriend is right her" she replied and walked on Hector's direction, who became a statue with those words. "You were incredible, mi amor" And to convince the annoying guy, Imelda kissed Hector. The poor musician was breathless with her so close to him and could barely complete his actuation of boyfriend taking the vocalist for her waist, trying to kiss her for a few seconds more, just in case that was the last kiss he could gave to her. He felt himself burning for that kiss of fire and if his end was to become just embers and ashes, it was totally worth it.The members of both bands looked at each other, surprised at that scene. Only Ernesto seemed to be pleased. "Finally" he mumbled, satisfied. A few minutes later, while he was taking her to his house, Imelda was apologizing for what she did. "Hey, I know that stalkers can annoying and even more if they're drunk. I had to defend another friends before using that same tactic" was his answer. He looked at the moon, trying to hide his happiness for that kiss. La Coronela stayed outside the building even after Hector told her to come inside, as every saturday when she accepted the invitation to stay. Imelda tried to hide on her coat, trying to defend herself from the cold air. "If I have to say the truth... I really wanted to kiss you. I just seized my moment when I saw it" she confessed, without blushing for it. Hector started a new kiss, less combative, because it meant a rendition. His face will get all painted with her white make up and also his hands, his arms, his chest and maybe he will need to wash his bed sheets when she leaved his house the next day but on that night that was almost becoming dawn, nothing else mattered. They woke up late on the afternoon, in the middle of the mess they made on the apartment. Her skirt upon the table, his leather jacket on the floor, make-up on places that weren't painted the night after.And they both happy. Of course, the story about La Coronela's, the most fierce and misterious, and her new boyfriend became the hottest story on the local scene. And Ernesto knew how to make a profit of that.

Notes 1- Bronca: It’s refered to the state of wilderness of a horse. When we use it to refer to a person is that this person is somewhat a non-sense, harsh person. It’s more used on the north of the country. 2- Just in case, I still can remember the name of a bar I saw while walking around the bar zone of Guadalajara (I like to take long walks, what can I say), it was “name of a woman” + Pistolas. 

Oh yeah, and this is the song that inspired the title. 

Paula Zoe

I know that I lied, I know that I failed you. I know that I betrayed you and that I left you Wandering on the dense sea of the lies, giving my back to the infinite.

You can kill me, you can leave me But you will not stop me from loving you. You know you’re my other half, my soul mate Paula, don’t forget me, Paula forever Paula on my soul. I need your eyes, your sweet smile and your body when I wake up. Where are you, where are you? Where are you going?

I know that I lost you when I splited off But you will not stop me from loving you. YOu know you’re my other half, my soul mate Paula don’t forget me, Paula forever Paula on my soul. I need your eyes, your sweet smile and your body when I wake up. Where are you, where are you, where are you going?  Invisible Paula Transparent Paula. Paula on my soul I need your eyes, your sweet smile and your body when I wake up. Where are you, where are you, where are you going? 

[got7fantasies]

Got7 Imagine: Jaebum as University / College Student

Requested by Anon

Got7 X Reader

Order from eldest to youngest member

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW OFTEN I IMAGINE THESE 7 BOYS AS UNI/ COLLEGE STUDENTS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST! Also, I feel like I’d over-write for each member so I’ll put this into 7 separate posts!

Inbox / Requests are OPEN

Masterlist

University AU list: Mark | Jackson | Jinyoung

Jaebum:

Third/ Junior Year student

Major in Film Studies, Minor in Political History

Average grades

Best friends with Youngjae from the Music Department and Jinyoung who minors in Film studies as well

Known around campus as Daddy Material by the females and Badass with a sick bike by males. Chic and sexy by Jackson Wang

How he commutes to school: He rides his motorbike or drives the car if Youngjae or Jackson is late

Everyday outfit: With hair styled up, leather jacket, t-shirt, jeans, and converse. With hair down, oversize hoodie, jeans, and converse

Class Schedule: 11am-5pm classes. This boy dislikes waking up early or staying too late

At school majority of the time having himself stuck in the computer labs editing and analyzing film

During Class:

Sits near the middle/ and side of the hall, close to the stairs or steps

Has pen and paper and only jots down really important key notes

Sometimes he types his notes on his laptop if he feels lazy

Type of student to ask important or interesting questions at the professor

Hands in his assignment on time; fulfill the basic requirements

Tends to space out and or doze off, doesn't try to hide it but does try to re-focus

Has a few friends in the same class but generally, his aura scares away some students

ALWAYS have at least something to drink in his bag or on the table

Only wears his glasses if he’s tired and not bothered to put in contacts

Scrolls his phone on pictures of Nora under the table if the class is boring

Gets to class on time and lingers for a while, chatting to his friends after class ends

During Breaks:

Can be seen around the cafeteria or at the school's common area with his friends (the rest of got7)

If you don’t see him there he’s either napping by the sleeping pods on campus or in the computer labs working on his Film assignments

Sometimes he goes out of campus for lunch with his other uni/college friends

Or out to fill the bike’s tank

Usually, orders the chicken platter set and has any caffeinated drink

Talks to Jinyoung about their upcoming film projects while eating

Semi-controls himself when Yugyeom and Bam Bam messes with him

“Yah. If you don’t wanna die you better stop before I finish this drumstick.”

Wrestles Yugyeom and Bam Bam after he finishes his food

Has small domestic talks with Youngjae and Jackson since they are his dorm roommates

Probably plans in his mind what he should cook for dinner after school

And what to get later in the grocery store for the dorm and for Nora

During Exam Season:

He is like a stone sitting in front of the computer in the computer lab

His aura is so extra deadly and you can feel it from a mile away

Do NOT disturb him at any cost

Looks collected but is actually hella stressed inside

More easily to irritate and frustrate (Bam Bam and Yugyeom usually leaves him alone during exam seasons)

Mushroom hair 24/7. No time for hair when you gotta pass.

Type to work through the night and get a few hours of sleep before his morning class

Forgets to sleep or eat when he’s in high concentration mode

He is definitely the type to prioritize his major over his minor

Rushes his 10-page History thesis paper and studies for the exam the night before

Too tired to think after his exams are done and hibernate through the holiday

Relieve to find out he passes all his classes (It’s enough to pass in uni/college)

How he handles on-campus admirers:

Knows what the female population of the university/college thinks about him

Occasionally gets a screaming “DADDY BUM” at the hallways and gets embarrassed and a little annoyed

If he realized the outburst was actually from Jackson, he’d chuckle and patiently wait until when they get back to murder that poor child for embarrassing him in the hallway

If he’s approached with a confession, he’d be very flattered and shocked at the same time. (This boy honestly thinks he scares away people.)

Also would politely decline if he’s not interested, if the girl or guy persists, he’d tell them that he has Nora. (Not that they would know Nora’s actually a cat LOL)

How you meet him:

You actually first encounter Jaebum at a very very wrong way

It was exams season and everyone was stuck in their dorms working on projects

You were just taking a quick toilet break from studying one night

You were washing your hands when suddenly the water pipe bursts under the sink

It took you a while to shut off the water supply to your room and it resulted in a flooded bathroom

You were trying to drain the water from your tiny bathroom when you hear loud bangs on your complex door

You open the door to see a really pissed off Jaebum

Turns out the water that flooded your bathroom leaked into Jaebum’s personal bathroom

In which he used as a darkroom to develop films and photo negatives

Meaning that you ruined not only his darkroom; but also his final project for his class

Jaebum was actually fuming and ready to murder

But once he sees you apologizing non-stop, he was not as angry anymore

After all, it’s not like you intentionally flooded your own bathroom

Jaebum just sighs and walks into your bathroom, you follow behind

“If you have time to apologize, you have time to drain the water. I’ll help so hurry up.”

You apologize again and continued to drain your bathroom with Jaebums’ help

It took you guys a while and Jaebum was efficient enough to contact the student dorms landlord to schedule a plumber as soon as possible

You also go down to his shared complex and helped clean his bathroom/ darkroom

Jackson and Youngjae ends up helping as well while they subtly comforted you cause angry Jaebum can be very scary

By the end of all of the cleaning, it was already the next day at the crack of dawn

Jaebum sees you off at the stairs and you apologize again

“It’s okay, it’s not like you could control what happened.”

“I’m really sorry. If there's anything you’d need me to do, I’d be more than willing to help.”

Jaebum takes your offer and promises to contact you if he thinks of anything

“Thank you for helping me clean up my bathroom.”

You were very still guilty and lowered your head to semi-bow at him

Jaebum genuinely feels bad for making you feel so guilty

He places his hand on your head and lightly ruffles your hair

“Don’t worry, I can always retake photographs. Thank you for helping me take my stuff out of my darkroom.”

He watches until you walks up to the upper floor and flashes you a reassuring smile

“Go get some sleep. Good luck with your exams.”

“Thank you, you too, Jaebum.”