#thinking that you’re seeing change just to have to spoon feed simple shit to someone who says they know better

[starlooove]

I’ve been thinking I was insane but everyone was talking about clocking the conservative shift in like music or fashion and yeah I did see it in fandom tyyyy

[espritmuse]

What do you think Armin, Mikasa, and Hange's ideal partner is like? Like, what do they look for in a partner or what would they not like?

Pairing: Armin x reader, Mikasa x reader, Hange x reader.

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Thanks a lot for your ask sweetheart sorry for the delay <333 hope u like it.

—Armin

Bookworm. Give him an annotated book filled with little quotes and words for him and he’ll ask for your hand instantly. Just try to picture his cheeks changing shades gradually as he turns the pages, discovering all the things you wrote for him with your messy handwriting. “Remind me of you!!” when one of the characters says something the blond man could’ve unquestionably say in real life, “we should do this..” at a picnic or stargazing scene or even, his favourite moment, at the final page, your impressions of the book. You always leave a blank space for him to write and after, you both discuss it together around warm porcelain cups or tea and confections he freshly baked.

He loves curious people. So when you started asking questions about the ocean, he couldn’t stop talking. He thought that he annoyed you at first but when he saw your wide eyes each time he added a new detail about the deep blue sea, he fell in love with you again and again. He may invent some stuff sometimes, just to see your smile, the one he loves the most. “ They’re called mermaids!” “Mermaids?” “Yep, It is said that their voices are so melodious that men drown to try to hear them more closely...”

We all know that Armin had a hard time protecting himself when he was younger so, he loves it when you ask him for help, he finally feels like it’s his turn to take care of someone and he adores to think he’s strong enough to defend you and that you have enough confidence in him, a belief that he himself does not have at times. “Don’t worry angel okay, I’m here now, don’t be afraid.”

He also loves tranquil and calm people, even if he doesn’t mind someone more energetic, he just likes when you both lay in a flower field, hands in hands, chest rising up and down in sync with your respiration, just talking about a flawless future with him. “I’ll marry you.”

— Mikasa

Mikasa would secretly like someone who would take care of her like she does with everyone else. It can be exhausting looking after others so she cherishes all the intimate moments with you; when you brush or cut her hair when they become too long, when you take a bath with her after a long day, washing her body with your delicate hands, taking care not to hurt her, especially on her recent open wounds or bruises. “I love you, thank you.”

Whispering lovely nothings in her ears when you stroke her hair after an expedition, when she needs you the most is one of her favourite things in her life. The raven-haired woman also loves when you wash her scarf or when she finds you with it, wrapped around your neck in your sleepy form. She adores the sweet smell you leave on it because now, when she’ll wear it, she’ll think of the two most important people in her life. “Take this sweetheart, it's cold outside.”

That may sound weird or original but she loves when her lover is a bit clumsy, she loves to baby you and look after you; she always has an eye on you, wherever you are. If you are on an expedition with her, she will make sure you are in the same group and in the same position as her, outside of the walls. Expect a lot of cuddles, spoon-feeding, “no baby you stay in bed today, you have a fever.”

Gardening. She’s a plant mom and loves teaching you everything she knows about flowers; how many times each of them needs to be watered, what’re their names or even the conditions they need to be in in order to stay alive and healthy. And trust me, once she finds your favourite flowers, you’ll see the colours or their petals each time you’ll wake up. “Look what I started to grow in the garden!! You told me last time in the forest how pretty they were so...no they’re with us all the time.”

—Hange

Hange’s type is very simple, they just want someone that could listen to them endlessly. They’re used to people calling them a Titan freak or a crazy scientist and, even if they act like they don’t care, it always hurts them when people fall asleep when they are telling their favourite story or when they hear mocking chuckles in their back. But when they found you, mouth agape and eyes wide right after they told you one of their experiments, they instantly knew that you were the one they were looking for all of the time. “Hum...if you..if you want I have other stories like this...I have a lot actual-” “Yes please I’ll love to!!” “Oh really? I...okay…” -yeah, expect a stuttering mess.”

Someone as crazy as them. Yelling like little kids in the dormant streets, running after birds, scaring Levi at every occasion you have...yeah, never a dull moment with both of you, and everyone knows that, especially when they hear you shouting in the middle of the night over a simple-minded subject. “The small titans are the worst!!” “Hange stop they just look like compressed children.” “ THEY MOVE SO FAST I SHIT MY PANTS EVERY TIME.” They said once, moving their hands in the hair in a false panicked manner.

Finally, someone that could help them take care of themselves. Hange has a hard time with hygiene but it is not really their fault, they often lost themself in all the paperwork, experiments and any other problems a soldier could have. So, when they find you knocking at their door at night, begging them to stop working while planting small kisses on their eyelids after removing their glasses, they know they’re in the right place. They like the way you never judge them for their appearance, even with their greasy hair and stained clothes. “Hange, I told you to stop working for today..” “I know but I wanted my baby to come back to my office.” “You’re so annoying.” “Yeah I love you too.

[hes-writer]

deja vu

Summary: part two of drivers license!

Warning: angst

Word Count: 1643 words

let me know if you liked it!

_____

If this was a movie, Y/N would’ve collapsed on the floor, knees hitting the ground as her legs lost the ability to keep her weight up. The corners of her lips would tilt downwards as a fusion of sadness and nostalgia bombarded her at every corner. Tears would collect at her waterline, waiting for the remarkable blink that would send each drop of salty liquid down the apples of her cheeks. Y/N imagined she would call Harry on her phone and scream at him as soon as the click sounded, signalling that he had picked up the call.

Yet as seconds passed by, none of those theatrical episodes happened.  Unlike in the movies, Y/N’s physical reactions were minuscule. Her heart ached in her chest. Her throat scrunched like a wad of tissue papers in her hand, drying up with shock and the shallow inhales she let out.  The swirling of her stomach increased tenfold as she teetered between feelings of anger and indifference.  This should not affect her anymore--or should it? It had barely been a few months since she last saw him and a little bit after when the first photos of Harry and his girlfriend went viral on the internet.

Everyone, especially him, seemed to move on from the relationship that they had shared.  Y/N felt like she needed to catch up to him, racing to throw away the feelings she still held for him and to pretend as though nothing happened.  But it was easier said than done.  There were still endless memories that replayed through her head every time she passed by an ice cream shop.  It was a hidden gem, past the popular hot spots.  Not a lot of people knew about it because of its distanced location.  And as much as Harry was a certified health nut; his guilty pleasure was a scoop of strawberry ice cream--in a cup instead of a waffle cone, of course.

Y/N still remembered those drives-turned-beach-trips.  It was mostly during his days off.  She and Harry would spend the whole day together, sharing one spoon amongst each other while they passed the cup of ice cream back and forth. The sound of the ocean encompassed them as they lay hidden around an alcove of rocks. It was a secluded area of the beach that Y/N had found way before.  The sand was grainy beneath the layer of a checkered picnic blanket that Harry kept at the trunk of his car, their bodies laying on top of it.  Eventually, Harry would proceed to just spoon-feed her, ‘accidentally’ nudging her nose with the cold treat.

.

.

.

.

Y/N could feel her shoulders slump at the flashback, body sagging as she sighed at what her phone screen was reflecting back to her.  It was her Instagram feed showcasing Harry’s profile. A picture of a haunting landscape was captured by his phone lens; it was the very same beach spot that she had taken him to.  Deja vu.

She bit her lip, wanting to smile about how he still visited it even without her.  It showed that Harry still kept a memory of her at the back of his mind.  Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, a sliver of hope shining through the dimness of her days. But it was impossible to keep an optimistic stance when she saw the caption.  A simple tag of his new girlfriend’s Instagram handle puckered her lips into a sour expression, brows pinching together in curiosity as Y/N continuously denied the obvious constituent of events.

“There’s no way,” She muttered, breath hitching as Y/N’s thumb hesitated on tapping the bolded font.

There was absolutely no way that Harry would bring someone else in such a coveted spot.  It was hers; she found it first and now he was acting as though it did not hold any meaning to her.  Not like Y/N didn’t spend the last few days laying on his lap, watching the sunset over the horizon. Harry’s fingers would comb through her tendrils, tucking his jacket tighter around her chin to ensure that she was warm despite him being covered in goosebumps himself. Y/N would look up to see the beginning stubbles of his facial hair as Harry looked ahead, his green eyes mirroring the artistic hues of orange, pink and purple.

“What’s up, Y/N?” Jenny asked, returning from her short trek to Y/N’s small kitchen. One hand was carrying a large bowl of chips while the other held two cans of soda.

Y/N stared at her friend with hesitance.  Was it worth bringing it up? She must be sick of her talking about him all the time.

“He brought her to our place,”

It was harder to hear it out loud.  She didn’t even recognize her own voice; void of emotion except for a strained sound of pain.

Jenny tilted her head to the side, “Who did?”

“Harry. . .” Y/N cleared her throat before continuing, “There was this place I found in Malibu. At a beach.  It’s pretty hidden and I used to go there by myself whenever I needed to think. I took him there.  It was our place, you know? Somewhere only the two of us knew and I don’t know,” She trailed off.

“You thought he would keep it between you guys,” Jenny finished off, nodding her head in empathic comprehension.

“Yeah, it just sucks,” Y/N furrowed her brows, staring at the space in front of her as she took in the gravity of the situation. “He even took her to D’Campos,”

“The ice-cream shop?”

She nodded, “It was on her Instagram story today,”

“Forget about him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve your tears,”

“I’m not even crying,” She chuckled, slapping Jenny’s arm jokingly.

“You look like you’re about to,”

Y/N sighed, “It hurts.  Feels like he’s everywhere.  Just when I thought I was moving on, he pulls shit like this and I’m forced to remember how good it was between us, you know? I haven’t driven past D’Campos or anywhere else that I might see him because it hurts too much to reminisce what I don’t have anymore.”

It was ridiculous how much Y/N has had to change her routine in order not to feel any more pain.  She actively avoided places where Harry frequented in fear of confrontation and also because he might be with his girlfriend.  She didn’t know how she could stay stoic seeing their hands clasped together, gazing at each other lovingly when Y/N wanted that from him for herself.

“You’re doing just fine, honey.  Do you know who can’t move on? Him.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s doing fine,” Y/N said sarcastically, resting her back on the couch. “Better, even.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Jenny argued, “Out of the two of you, who’s the one always going to the places you shared?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but a swift hand in the air caused her to halt.

“It’s him, right?” Jenny answered rhetorically.  “I do not care what you say; that man misses you and it shows.  Harry’s going to where he expects you to be, probably in hopes of running into you. Maybe even because he wants to relive the moments you shared together with her in hopes of him feeling the same way he felt like when he did with you,”

“T-that’s insane. He’s fine without me,” Y/N stuttered out, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.

“First of all, you are in denial. Secondly, you cannot tell me that he doesn’t. He’s practically doing everything you guys used to do with this new girl.  Why? Because he fucking misses you, Y/N.  Hell, you’ve even got the same name.”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“My ass,” Jenny scoffs, “Answer me something, do you still remember how it felt being there with him?”

Y/N nodded, “Always,”

“Describe it to me,”

Y/N squinted her eyes in suspicion. Where was Jenny going with this?

“Uh, as cheesy as it sounds, I felt happy and free. I could talk about anything without being judged.  He had a way of making me feel comfortable without even saying anything.  When we were together--wherever we were--I could be vulnerable about myself in front of him,”

“Would you do whatever it takes to feel that same way again?”

In a heartbeat, Y/N stated, “Without a doubt.”

“Tell me, if Harry asked you to meet him there right now, would you go?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took a moment to process the question. She had just said that she would do whatever it takes to feel the same unconfined emotion again.  So why was she saying ‘no’?

“I-I wouldn’t,”

“Exactly,” Jenny concluded with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re gonna have to explain,”

“Gladly,” Her friend quipped. “You want to feel liberated, vulnerable, and honest again but not necessarily with Harry.  That place meant a lot to you--sure.  But it doesn’t matter.  What counts is who you are with.  Who’s giving you that type of comfortability that you’re able to be just yourself around them. Do you understand?”

Y/N leaned forward in interest.

“You are well aware of that but you won’t accept it. You won’t go with him because you know that it won’t be the same anymore. That’s the first step of moving on.  Once you acknowledge that as much as you miss him, as much as you think you want him to be around, you know better than that. He’s changed and so have you.  He’s searching for that same feeling by going back to the places that you used to go to.  Thinks he will find it there but--,”

“He won’t.” Y/N finished off. “Because she is not me,”

___

[ciggylungz]

She’s such an actress

She’s such an actress

Bestfriend!harry grinding on yn while spooning. / bestfriend!harry you guys casually hookup and can’t get enough of each other (smut, smut and more smut)

3.1k words

_

 “stop being a fuckin’ blanket hog!”

Y/n gave Harry a glare as she tugged the fluffy fabric farther up her body. The two best friends were on a month-long holiday with their group of friends in Italy. They’d been there six days already and Y/n was already becoming a bit snippy with Harry because the extra people in the house kept her from being able to fuck her best friend whenever she wanted to. They had a bit of an unconventional friendship, they’ve been friends since they were teens and they’re as close as two friends can be- yet one thing that separates their relationship from the relationships they have with their other friends is well, they like to fuck like rabbits. They had been doing that frequent banging since they were in secondary school, anytime Harry would be back from tour for a while from his one direction days they’d usually spend that time getting absurdly drunk and pleasuring each other.

Not having been able to really touch Harry like she’s used to for the last week, she’s starting to get needy which makes her act moody and on edge. Harry gave the girl a sideways glance, raising his eyebrows as a sort of ‘quit it’ reaction to her behavior only getting a huff from her in return. Harry had been met with this huffy puffy version of his best friend many times, whenever he’d annoy her or she didn’t get her way she’d turn on her snarky side. It didn’t phase him anymore. He of course knew why she was acting like this, but he was a little limited in how he can fix it seeing as they’re in a house with 8 of their closest friends- who would never let them hear the end of it if they got caught and he didn’t want to deal with their prying- so he was aware he’d have to deal with this attitude till he could take care of her properly.

y/n laid herself down on the couch, putting her feet in Harry’s lap under the blanket, prompting him to softly massage them for her to get on her good side at least while they watched a movie with their friends and all had a few beers after a day at the beach. The man absentmindedly ran his thumbs on the arch of her right foot, eyes on the screen as he gave her soothing touches smiling soft when he felt her twitch a little. He knew she was ticklish yet she liked when he’d give her massages, so it was an odd combination of her twitching and giggling while letting out relaxed sighs. He didn’t mind though; she had soft skin and always kept her toes manicured so he had no problem with it. He once tried to get her to do the same for him and she pretended to gag before smacking his feet off her lap which he laughed at.

His gaze averted from the screen down to his own blanket covered lap when he felt her left foot starting to nudge at his sweatpants covered crotch. Harry let out a sigh through his nose, while of course he wanted to fuck her brains out he also didn’t want to get a stiffy while sitting with their friends. Plus, knowing he got the girl so needy even her mood was affected gave him a bit of cocky pride- no pun intended. The man pinched her foot giving her a warming glance whilst shaking his head and pushing her feet from his lap, opting to go grab another beer from the fridge knowing he was driving her up the fucking wall.

Y/n was anything but pleased with his antics, so with a scowl she threw the blanket off herself and declared she was going to go shower and go to bed making sure she gave Harry a good side eye and middle finger as she pasted him in the kitchen which made the man chuckle before doing the same just to piss her off further.

__

Y/n changed into some sleep shorts and one of Harrys old sweatshirts he gave her years ago, she had been left to make herself cum in the shower since Harry was being a little shit and now she was even more annoyed because even after 2 shower head on clit fueled orgasms she still was dying to touch him, smell him, kiss him anything! She needed to feel his big callused hands on her skin, smell his natural musk and hint of cologne and the mint gum he chewed with a lingering bitterness of beer on the corners of his mouth. She needed her bitch of a best friend to stop starving her of the touches she’s used to getting before she threatens to put out applications for a new best friend. (she never claimed to not be dramatic afterall), even if they couldn’t get away with banging regularly here, she needed something or her head was going to explode.

Laying back on her bed she started thinking about how good he looked at the beach earlier that day. Tanned skin complimenting his tattoos, his thick thighs she loves to kiss, mark with hickeys and hump looking extra inviting covered in a sheen of sea water drying onto him under the hot sun. His back muscles imprinted through his exterior whenever he’d lift one of their friends up to toss into the water or punt a volleyball, she almost drooled at the sight of him playing the sport. And god, she could easily make out the lump of his meat through the pale pink swim shorts he was wearing. Even his soft cock could make her knees weak, she’s proved that many times when she’d ask him if she could kiss his soft length, or proposed cock warming. She had no idea how Harry could control himself enough to stay soft when he let her kiss his cock or cuddle with it inside her, but it made it undoubtably sexier to her. she had a love for his manhood, soft, hard, she didn’t care she loved it in every state. It made her feel like a two-dollar hooker, yet she didn’t care because it was her Harry. Best friends over everything.

She let out a pitiful huff, opting to scroll through her phone as she lounged in bed. In the midst of her falling down the Instagram black hole of soap cutting videos she got a text from the man that’s been driving her insane the last six days.

‘you gonna come finish the movie with us or are you gonna pout like a child?’

The young woman felt her attitude flare back up, sending him a snotty text just to get a reaction out of him, wanting to make him mad like she was- which she knew was proving his point that she was being childish.

‘I’m on tinder finding someone to fuck, finish the movie without me’

When the man read the text he knew what she was doing, and yet it still gave him a little tingle of possessiveness and irritation. Of course, he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him, but he also didn’t feed into her bratty behavior. He knew he was making it worse, and she’d give him a wack to the dick if he kept up his antics yet he took his chances wanting to see how worked up he could actually get the girl.

‘have fun, be safe call someone if you need a ride home’

To say Y/n was shocked to see him respond with that, was accurate. Her mouth went slack slightly and her chest shook a little. She was pissed, needy, and sad that he was acting like he really didn’t care about how she felt. She was sensitive, she knew her period was coming next week so her hormones were causing her sex drive and emotions to skyrocket. In her pissed off state she decided she’d really do it, just to piss him off as much as he did to her. two can play at this game.

__

When the girl was slipping a skimpy dress over her figure, Harry finally decided to make an appearance. He’d heard an awful lot of thumping and shuffling from her room and decided to investigate yet he was surprised to see her now in a dress that left very little to the imagination. He raised an eyebrow as he loomed in the doorway, his shoulder pressed into it while he casually leaned against the wood using his finger to motion to her body. “What are yeh doin’?”, his question made her meet his glance in the mirror a rather unamused glare coming from her eyes. “I’m going out, told y’ that didn’t i? gon’ go find someone to fuck me.”

Harry met tsked the girl slightly, walking further into the room. “No yer’ not, take that dress off and put your pj’s back on.” The man pointed a finger to her disregarded prior clothing, Y/n of course challenged this with a hand on her hip. “Yes, I am. You’re not in charge of me, I’m an adult.” Harry shrugged, not giving into the temptation to argue. “Never said you weren’t grown, I said yer not goin’ out and you’re gonna put your clothes back on. Now, get to it.” His stare seemed to have some sort of power over her, seeing as Y/n found herself quickly caving and shimmying out of the dress.

Harry took a step into the room, closing the door behind him to give her a bit more privacy incase one of their friends walked by and caught a glimpse of her in the process of changing. The girl gave him a pouty face when she stepped out of the material that now was pooled around her ankles, her tits spilling out of her bra as she stood before him in only her undergarments. He watched her carefully as she switched back into her former outfit and slowly stalked towards him, standing about a foot away from his body before tilting her head up to look at him.

Harry noticed how frustrated she was in a simple glance, a small frown forming on his own face when her waterline became a darker shade of red and tears glossed over her pretty eyes. Damp eyelashes sticking together slightly as she blew out a breath, “You’re being mean t’ me Haz, I don’t like it..” she knew she sounded pathetic but she didn’t care. She was touch and attention starved by her best friend and favorite boy and her period was on it’s way so she had a right to get emotional if she wanted to. Harry pouted at her, opening his arms for her to press herself into him which she did gladly, face smooshed into his chest while her fists bunched up his shirt. “Don’t need to cry, it’s alright bug. Everything is okay, here can cuddle yea? Will that work?” and because Y/n was so desperate at this point, she was willing to compromise for a cuddle.

__

The pair laid together, Y/n in her little spoon position and Harry behind her as they stared at the television that was playing on the wall. She held his large hand in hers, rings being toyed with by her fingers while she let herself be soothed by the beating of his heart against her back.

Even though Harry was plagued by thoughts of their friends catching them in a compromising position, he couldn’t help but notice his cock plumping up with Y/ns bum pressed into him. He knew it wasn’t like she was being intentionally teasing now, she’d settled for a cuddle because she just needed any touch from him but now- he was becoming the needy one. He decided to keep it subtle, acting as if he was repositioning himself yet angling his hips so his now semi hard cock could grind against the flesh of her ass. Grinding was something they did often, it was one of their favorite sexual acts. Her grinding on his thigh, cock, hips, or tummy. Harry grinding himself on her ass, clothed cunt or sometimes fucking himself with her thighs. Grinding was something they were very much into, and only after a few moments of him jutting his hips into her flesh she turned her head to see him.

“What are you doin’?” the man let out a long sigh, pulling her to roll over to face him by her hip nudging his nose with her being rewarded with a trembling breath blowing out of her lips to fan over his own. “I know you’ve been missin’ me huh? Had to keep m’ hands off yeh, ‘m sorry doll. Never meant to have my girl in tears, look I miss yeh too.” He gently grabbed her hand to migrate towards his swelling crotch letting her cup him through the material her eyes moving to look down at her moving hand, “no no, doll look at me. eyes on mine, gonna play with yeh okay? Gotta be quiet, think you can be quiet for me?”

Her nodding was so frantic she could hear the ticking noise of her brain moving inside her skull, making herself slightly dizzy for a second before Harry grabbed her attention again. “What do yeh wanna do sweetheart? Can you stay quiet if I fuck yeh or do we gotta settle for something else?” a quiet pleading whimper passed through her vocal cords almost in physical pain from the anticipation, Harry hadn’t given in yet he hadn’t let her press their lips together, pulling away to only brush noses every time she tried. “Need an answer then yeh can have a kiss.”

Y/n swallowed thickly, labored breaths coming from her body. “I can be quiet H, promise please I n-need you” her voice cracked with the weight of need, a whimper clawing its way out of her when he stood up to lock her door before shuffling back to the bed. Harry knew Y/n like the back of his hand, he could tell by the small dots of acne starting to present on her chin and the way she’s acting that her period was coming and that let him know she’d cum fast due to sensitivity, which was perfect for this risky scenario. The girl took it upon herself to start stripping herself down, bra coming off as fast as her sweatshirt did showing her slightly swollen tits and nipples a shade darker than usual confirming his previous realization.

She slipped her underwear off herself harry worked to push his sweats off as his free arm held up the duvet as an emergency shield incase the lock didn’t work watching the girl scramble to get under the blanket as she waited anxiously for Harry to join her.

His body was heavy on top of hers, chests pressed together while he guided his tip into her. Y/n instinctively wrapped around his waist, his other hand covering her mouth while he sunk himself inside the girl. Her wet warmth never failed to make his breath hitch, she felt so goddamn good every fucking time. the vibrations of her noises of pleasure tickled his palm, her drool wetting his palm whilst she struggled to keep herself together. She was always a sensitive little thing, but after a week without being touched she could hardly contain herself. Harry moved his hips in quick succession refusing to move his hand because he didn’t trust her to be quiet and honestly, he was struggling to stay quiet himself.

Harry used his free hand to anchor her thighs apart so he can get a good swivel into her, his pubic hair tickling her clit every time he circled his hips flush into her, both her cunt lips and the insides of her thighs getting stimulated with every thrust he gave her. He was well aware of how obsessed Y/n was with his lower half, including his happy trail, collection of curls sat above his cock and of course his previously fawned over thighs and every time he’d let her give him kisses down there she’d nuzzle her nose and lips into the hair. Often licking up the stripe of hair on his stomach, she really had a thing for his junk and she loved when he’d let his lower region tickle at her clit and lips while he fucked her. Y/n was on the verge of passing out, attempting to be quiet while he did everything to her poor cunt that he knew made her twitch and scream under normal circumstance. It felt almost cruel, wishing she could just scream out everything she needed to but she knew better and could focus on nothing else accept her orgasm approaching like a freight train.

Harry could feel how close she was, her g-spot has swelled a considerable amount from the way the crown of his cock massaged it with vigor during every rough thrust inside of her. she was soaking wet, almost so much so he was struggling to not slip out of her and her walls were fluttering. The clenching of her intimate muscles came in 10 second intervals warning him about her approaching climax, her eyes begging him not to stop because his palm was still firmly secured onto her mouth now completely soaked with her drool, her tongue desperately lapping at his hand to taste any part of him periodically as he drove himself deeper into her.

“Fuckin’ Christ, you gonna cum?” Y/n nodded frantically whimpering into his palm while digging her fingers into his arm trying to feel any sense of control while her body spiraled into ecstasy. With a buck of her restrained hips and trembling of her entire body she started to cum, hard .

“Oh fuck, cumming hard huh? God y/n baby fuck..where do you want it? ‘m gonna cum baby where do you want it?” his speed started to falter as he felt the pressure in his balls reach it’s breaking point, y/n responded by pointing a trembling hand to her mouth which made the mans eyes roll back and his hand quickly uncover her opening just in time for him to crawl up her body, knees on either side of her head as he spilled his seed into her drooly panting mouth. The sight was filthy, but god he swears she still looks beautiful with a mouth full of his cum and tear stained cheeks.

She swallowed it quickly, sticking her tongue out to swipe at his tip making sure she got the last drop before he rolled off her and dropped beside her. they were coated in sweat, cum and drenched in lust but god there truly was no place they’d rather be.

[asweetprologue]

Geraskier prompt: Cooking and sharing food

hey, sorry for the wait on this one! i’m trying to answer an ask or do a prompt every day in october but I also have school so we’ll see how it goes lmao

anyways I really thought this prompt was cute as shit so here we go!! more below the cut so this post doesn’t take up too much of ur dash 

On the feeding of wolves

One of the first things Geralt had learned when Jaskier came to stay at Kaer Morhen was that the bard could cook.

Jaskier had never come to stay at the keep before. Geralt had never asked. It always felt like overstepping, when he’d thought to bring it up. Jaskier had his own life, friends and coworkers and family that he needed to catch up with, prestigious court positions to fill, beautiful men and women to fall into bed with. He already followed Geralt around for the better part of the year, most of the time. To ask him to come and stay longer, to live in close quarters with Geralt and meet his family… It was too close to asking for what Geralt really wanted. 

That had changed recently, something exciting and tentative springing up between them. Geralt wasn't sure if Jaskier had only just developed a more-than-platonic interest in him, or if he’d realized Geralt felt the same, or if he’d just suddenly decided to throw caution to the wind. Whatever the case, Geralt was glad for it. Things had been better over the last few months than ever before, even if they’d yet to formally put a name to what they were doing. So Geralt had finally built up the courage to ask Jaskier if, maybe, he wanted to come north with him, and Jaskier had gleefully agreed.

Geralt had been worried about Jaskier getting along with the other wolves, fretting over it the entire way up the mountain pass to Kaer Morhen. It turned out he needn't have worried, however. Jaskier had a secret, full proof plan to seduce the witchers of the Wolf School, and it involved warm loaves of bread and a judicious amount of spices.

On the road Jaskier never cooked. Geralt had spent - he didn't even know. Hundreds of evenings, probably, roasting meat over an open fire or tossing it into a pot for stew, throwing in whatever vegetables and herbs he’d been able to scrounge up. Jaskier had complained plenty when it wasn't to his liking, but it didn't bother Geralt. He was a man of simple needs; a warm bowl of soup in the forest or a hunk of chicken in a tavern was enough to suit him. As long as it kept him going towards the next task. 

Jaskier, on the other hand, was a noble deep down and it showed in his tastes. He didn't mind the food they picked up in taverns along the road, but it was obvious that he preferred the fare they received at banquets and the occasional festival. He had a sweet tooth a mile wide and a sensitive palette for spices and ingredients. Geralt, with his heightened sense of smell, should have been better than Jaskier at picking them out by far, but the bard had a knack for it.

It turned out that “knack” was built on real skill. On the day of their arrival, Jaskier had strode into the main kitchen of the keep and said, “Oh finally, a real oven!” Geralt had written it off, only to wake the next morning to Jaskier making dozens of dainty hot cross buns. The fire was crackling away in the stove, and a pot of tea was already boiling away. Jaskier had turned to him with a brilliant smile on his face, flour in his hair, and said, “Those ones just came out! Help yourself. Where are those brothers of yours?” Geralt had stood for a moment, blinking in surprise, before he picked up one of the buns. It was delicious, hot and flaky with a subtle sweetness to it.

It had become a bit of a ritual since then, in the week that they’d been at the castle. Jaskier didn't always make breakfast, but he cooked at least one meal almost daily. He was good, too, his food packed with flavor and warmth that made Geralt feel lazy and content afterwards. Jaskier insisted that they all sit down to eat together, even old Vesemir, and the other wolves began to open up around the bard. Eskel was pleased to have someone else around who had his appreciation for more academic pursuits, and Lambert quickly found that Jaskier was an easy sell on any shenanigans that he wanted to pull. Even Vesemir seemed to enjoy his company, asking Jaskier after Geralt’s exploits on the Path - “He is woefully silent when it comes to his own victories, aren't you darling? Let me tell you about last spring, when he took down an entire nest of archspores near Toussaint -”

It was good. Great, even. Geralt had no idea where it was fucking coming from.

After the first week he finally cornered Jaskier in the kitchen, where the bard was working on dinner. Lambert and Eskel had felled a deer earlier that day, and Jaskier was planning to make some kind of stew with the tough meat. He was currently kneading a dark lump of bread dough, probably to go along with the meal and serve as breakfast the next morning. He looked up when Geralt walked in, his expression pleased. His chin lifted and he nodded to a hissing pot on the stovetop. “Oh, Geralt, glad you’re here. Will you be a dear and stir that for me? I’m afraid the onions might start to stick.”

Geralt did as he was bid, picking up the wooden spoon hanging nearby to shove at the onions in the pot. There must already have been some spices thrown in - garlic, some rosemary, thyme - because it smelled heavenly. “I didn't know that you knew how to cook,” he said after a moment.

Jaskier hummed, focused on his task. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and Geralt watched distractedly as his forearms tensed and released as he kneaded the dough. “Hmm, I suppose you wouldn't. I don't know much about roadside cooking, so I always left it in your decently capable hands. We’ve never settled anywhere long enough to make use of a kitchen.”

Geralt watched the bard, onions forgotten. “You never said. Where did you learn?”

Jaskier glanced over at him and the away, blushing. “Oh, here and there. When I was a boy my parents felt I was too loud to be in the presence of guests, so they usually sent me to the kitchens for the staff to watch over. No idle hands in there, let me tell you. They put me to work quickly enough, little tasks to keep me busy. I helped out more as I got older, until my parents deemed it inappropriate behavior for a viscount.” He smiled down at the dough beneath his fingers, shaping it into a round loaf. “I think that's where I found my love of music and making, if I'm being honest. There were always sounds in that room, people singing and laughing while they made food to feed the house. I like being a part of that.” He met Geralt’s eyes. “I like making people happy by making things.”

Geralt stepped closer, reaching up to lay a gentle hand on Jaskier’s neck. “You don't have to,” he said. “They’ll still like you even if you don't do things for them.” He took a breath, and then continued. “I’ll still care for you. Always. You don't have to be useful, Jaskier.”

Geralt heard the bard’s breath hitch, and then Jaskier leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. When he pulled back he was smiling warmly. “I like doing it,” he said, “but thank you. It means… more than I can say.” Taking Geralt’s free hand in one of his flour coated palms, he said, “I care about you a great deal as well.”

Geralt opened his mouth, unsure of what he was about to say. Something embarrassing, like I want to wake up to your cooking every day or I used to dream about this sort of thing or maybe just I love you. Instead, he said, “I think the onions are burning.”

They were. The kitchen was filled with the rich smell of over caramelized onions, and Jaskier gasped as he pushed past Geralt to attempt to save them. He cursed up a storm as he pulled them from the heat, looking down into the pot with a pout. Geralt huffed a laugh, knowing that Jaskier would find a way to pull it all together regardless. There was flour on his palm in the shape of Jaskier’s hand, and something in his chest that he thought was there to stay. The kitchen was warm, and Jaskier’s hair had flour in it once again, and Geralt felt like he was finally, finally home. 

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Keeping Me Alive

Chapter 10: Get Out Alive

by @dracusfyre​

    Now

“Save who you can,” Tony said to himself as he splashed water on his face.

He blindly grabbed for a towel and dried off, meeting his eyes in the mirror for what felt like the first time in years. “Don’t look back.” He straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves, and went out into his bedroom. He picked up the photo that sat on his bedside table and took it out of the frame, tucking it into the pocket of his pants. Glancing around his bedroom, he nodded once, and went down to his workshop. He saluted the painting of Howard on the wall then dug out the photo of the Winter Soldier from his desk and set it on fire, dropping it to the concrete floor and watching it burn.

 “Ready, JARVIS?” he asked. He ground the last bit of embers into the concrete to put them out.

 “Are you ready, sir?”

 “Yep,” Tony lied. “Let’s rock and roll.”

“Let it Burn Protocol initiated.” As JARVIS spoke, Tony felt the first explosion rock the house, rumbling through his feet as he stepped into the matte black suit in the gantry in the middle of the room. The facemask closed over his face as cracks appeared in the walls of the lab, and as the ground fell away from his feet he was already in the air.

36 days ago

Once he was sure that Stane was gone for good, Tony went down to his work shop and said, “Wake up, JARVIS, we have work to do.”

Sitting down at his workstation, he opened up the master file with the suit schematics and eyed the hologram critically. The hardest part of the suit to master was going to be the flight system, so he isolated and magnified that part from the diagram, studying the repulsors built into the gauntlets and boots with stabilizers along the back. “Start machining the parts I’m going to need for these,” he said. “Circumstances have changed and we are going to need to hit the ground running, so to speak."

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS said, and the whirring of machinery became a low hum, punctuated by sharp bzzts as parts were cut and de-burred. Tony studied the prototype, exploding the diagram, moving it around, and after a while came up with a short list of non-critical design items he could spoon feed to Hydra to show his ‘enthusiastic’ cooperation. An hour later, the whirring stopped and the sudden quiet broke Tony out of his concentration. He sat up and stretched, wincing as his back popped. Standing, he went over to the coffee maker and started a new pot, then dug under the counter for his emergency stash of scotch, splashing a fingers worth in his mug while he waited for the coffee.

He had realized two very important things today. The first was that the Soldier needed saving even more than Tony did; the knowledge that the man was Hydra’s slave, kept ignorant and locked up until Hydra needed an attack dog, had shifted Tony’s world view like a kaleidoscope, shaking up everything he thought knew and making an entirely new pattern. The second was that he couldn't keep waiting around for a chance to escape, he was going to have to make one.

This suit, he knew, was the key to both of those realizations. But this half-baked, insane plan to rescue the Winter Soldier was going to kick the anthill big time and Tony also knew he needed to have some kind of plan for dealing with Hydra in the aftermath. This wasn’t going to be like Afghanistan, where he thought he was out and got pulled right back in again. The stakes were way too high this time.

With that thought in mind, when the coffee was done, he filled up his mug and went back to his desk. He pulled up the operating program for the suit and created a subroutine to overload the reactor, ignoring the flash red warning that said that this would result in a critical core breach and an uncontrolled chain reaction, and set the activation code as “Last Resort.”

One way or another, he thought as he sipped on his doctored coffee, this suit would be his way out.

  32 Days Ago

Tony stared tiredly at the news as he took a swallow of stone-cold coffee. The breaking report was about the assassination of an Iranian nuclear scientist. Iran was already blaming Israel, who was of course denying it, but in response Iran was threatening to pull out of the treaties against nuclear enrichment and swore they could split the atom within the year. Political and military analysts were seeing storm clouds on the horizon unless someone backed down and talking about how another war would tax America's already overstretched military. Tony, meanwhile, could tell that this assassination had Hydra's fingerprints all over it, and knew that this was almost certainly the work of the Soldier. "JARVIS," Tony said, muting the television. "I need you to break into Hydra’s servers and find everything you can on the Winter Soldier. Cross reference it with the name James Barnes.” There was a chance that Stane had made the name up, but it seemed unlikely – from what he could tell, the Soldier would have responded to anything, and ‘James Barnes’ was a lot more specific than a simple ‘John Smith’ or ‘Joe Blow.’ “Actually, while you’re at it,” Tony said, having a sudden thought, “I want all of Hydra’s files. Copy them to one of SI’s remote servers.”

Hours later, Tony was just finishing up the wiring assembly for the repulsor system when his computer dinged. Setting down the soldering gun, Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly and turned on his monitor to see what JARVIS had found. To his dismay, there were thousands of files on the Winter Soldier; as he scrolled down the list, he realized that they went back decades. “Fuck,” he said aloud as he looked at the dates and the file names, most of which were a string of letters and numbers that no doubt made sense to someone in Hydra but gave no clue as to what the file contained. He buried his head in his hands and tried not to cry at the enormity of the task in front of him. He was so tired that his eyes were blurry and his head was pounding, but every time he tried to close his eyes he kept seeing James’s body arching with pain and hearing his screams.

“Sir, it has been twelve hours and thirty-six minutes since you last ate,” JARVIS said. “And you’ve made four mistakes in the past fifteen minutes. You need to rest.”

“I have?” Tony pulled his magnifying glass back over to the circuit board and saw what JARVIS was talking about. “Shit. Alright, fine.” He pushed away from the desk and went to the bar sink next to the coffee pot and ran his head under cold water for a second. He came up and wiped his face and the back of his neck, shivering as water dripped from his hair down his back, and went upstairs to look for food. Leaving his work shop felt like he was crossing into hostile territory, like he could be attacked at any moment. And he could, he thought as he opened the refrigerator. Stane had made sure that he always had free access to Tony’s home, because a locked door meant secrets and the only secrets Hydra allowed were their own. He wished he could just walk away from this place, blow it up and find a place to live that Hydra had never stepped foot in, a place that would feel like it was his –

He froze with a jug of orange juice in his hand. He stood there, thoughts racing, for so long that the chiller on the refrigerator came on with a hum. Then Tony said “Huh” to the boxes of leftovers and absently shut the fridge door, OJ still in hand.

25 Days Ago

“JARVIS, this doesn’t make sense,” Tony said, rereading the file for the fifth time. “This thing is saying that the first Winter Soldier was James Barnes, but the current Winter Soldier is James Barnes.” It was hard to think that it was a clerical error, since the earliest files went back to the 1940s and consisted of paper files that had been scanned into a computer sometimes in the 80s. “Is it an alias? Are all Winter Soldiers called ‘James Barnes’ as a security precaution?”

“Facial pattern analysis indicates that it is the same James Barnes,” JARVIS said, and it flashed up an image that looked like a scanned-in polaroid; in it the man was unconscious on an operating table, face dirty and bloody and pale. Next to it JARVIS pulled up an image from Hydra’s own security footage of what the Soldier looked like without his goggles and mask on. There was a vague resemblance to Tony’s eyes, but as the facial recognition algorithm measured the features in each photograph, the conclusion was mathematically precise – there was a 99.7% chance that it was the same man in each photo.

Tony’s face went slack with shock. “How is that possible? He’d have to be almost 100 years old!”

“That part I don’t know, sir.”

“Holy shit.” Tony went back to the original file, reading it more carefully. “James Buchanan Barnes,” he read. “Born 1917. American POW.” He paused at that and sat back in his chair. “Why does that sound familiar?”

In response, JARVIS pulled up a Wikipedia page on Tony’s screen. As he read it, Tony was speechless; for a long moment, he flipped screens between the dead-eyed man from Hydra’s surveillance footage and the smiling man with his arm around Captain America, but this time he didn’t need JARVIS to tell him that it was the same man. The implications made his stomach turn, and as he stared at the screen he exhaled shakily and covered his mouth with his hands. 80 years. James Barnes had been in Hydra’s clutches for 80 years.

He stood suddenly, sending his chair rolling backwards. “We’re doing another flight test. Right now.” 80 years was already far too long, and Tony wasn't going to let it be one more day longer than it had to be.

19 Days Ago

“Tony!” Ms. Potts said with surprise. “I didn’t expect you in the office today.”

Probably because Tony had been dodging Stark Industries for a while now, only coming out of his lab long enough to get her to leave him alone before burying himself in work again. It had occurred to him as he got in his car to go to SI headquarters, blinking in the bright sunlight, that this was the first time he had been outside of the house since Stane’s forced excursion. “Yeah, I wanted to meet with you,” Tony said, shutting the door behind him.  He set a stack of papers in front of her as he sat down.

“What’s this?” She said, flipping through the papers. There was a line of confusion between her eyebrows which only deepened as she started reading them.

“I’m making you CEO of Stark Industries,” Tony said. “Effective two weeks from now. Should be an easy transition, you do most of my job anyway.” He grabbed a pin from her desk and clicked it, the sound loud in the sudden silence. “Sign on the highlighted line, please,” he added, holding the pen out to her, and despite everything he had to smile at the stunned look on her face.

  11 Days Ago

Tony put a hand on Rhodey’s arm and met his eyes, willing him to understand. “I’m saying that Afghanistan wasn’t a random attack,” he said urgently. “I think I was being targeted, and I think whoever did it might try again.” He palmed a thumb drive from his pocket and slid it across the table. In the Hydra files, JARVIS had found that a senator named Stern had been behind the Afghanistan attack, apparently trying to get Tony out of the way so that his good buddy Justin Hammer and his company Hammer Industries could take over SI's lucrative military contracts. There was all of that and more on here, just enough information that if Rhodey put all the threads together he would start getting the bigger picture. Pierce, the STRIKE teams, all of it. “If anything happens to me, I need you to finish what I’ve started.”

“Tony, if you are afraid for your life-“ Rhodey started, still looking dubious but starting to get alarmed.

“Not just me. You. Ms. Potts. Anyone I'm friends with. I can’t do anything to make these people suspicious,” Tony insisted. It was strange to feel like he was lying even though every word he’d said was true. “No unexplained bodyguards, no sudden trips, and absolutely no cops.”

“I don’t like this,” Rhodey said emphatically. “You’re asking me to sit back and wait to see if someone kills you!”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tony said. That part was a lie. He had a plan in the broadest definition of the word; mostly he was making it up as he went along and praying he could handle the fallout. “I need you to trust me.” Rhodey’s mouth was a grim line and his jaw was tight, and Tony knew he wasn’t convinced so he pulled out his trump card. “I can’t do this unless I know you are safe,” he said, lowering his voice and leaning forward. “I won’t risk you.” It took a long minute, and Rhodey looked like he was swallowing something unpleasant, but he finally nodded and put the thumb drive in his pocket. Tony exhaled and sagged with relief. “Thank you."

“When this is over, you better have a good damn explanation,” Rhodey said threateningly, and Tony barked out a humorless laugh.

“You won’t even believe me when you hear it.”

  8 Days Ago

After Tony hit save on the final design of the suit, he stumbled over to the couch and landed on it face first, exhausted. He was laying on the couch, eyes drifting shut as he went over his plan for the hundredth time trying to figure out if he’d missed anything when the lab went dark. “What the hell, JARVIS?”

“Sir, it’s been 56 hours since you last slept,” JARVIS said. “I’m turning off your systems for a minimum of twelve hours.” The light in the stairwell going up to the main floor turned on, its glow just enough to let Tony get from the couch to the door without running into anything.

Tony stayed stubbornly on the couch. “We don’t have twelve hours to waste,” he said. “Turn my power back on.”

The lights stayed off. “Sir, you are a hazard to yourself and others.” Tony scowled and wondered if he had actually programmed JARVIS like this or if he was channeling the man himself. "Also, there's nothing for you to do while I assemble the suit."

“Fine. Ten hours.”

“Ten hours," JARVIS repeated. "I will be monitoring the situation while you sleep,” he added, and Tony knew that he meant not just monitoring Stane and James, but also Tony’s vital signs to make sure he actually slept.

“You’re insufferable,” Tony accused as he made his way up the stairs.

“Yes, sir.”

 2 Days Ago

“Sir, there’s something you should see.”

Tony looked up from the fine-tuning he was doing on the suit’s shoulder-fired weapons to look at the computer screen. JARVIS had maximized the window where he was constantly monitoring Pierce’s communications and highlighted a text that had just been sent. It was to an unknown number and all it said was lvl 10, CovJer10131973 nlt 200810162200Z. The first part was clearly a target identifier and Tony knew enough about the military to recognize the latter as a date time group, set for five days from now. “Bring up the camera feed,” Tony said, and sure enough when Tony looked at the video surveillance of the room where James was kept, he could see that the lights in the room were on and a technician was already in the room powering on computers. They’d found out a while ago that what Tony had taken for a hyperbaric chamber was in fact a cryostasis chamber, which partly explained why James was almost a hundred years old but looked younger than Tony.

“Shit." Tony exhaled long and low, feeling his heart rate spike with nervousness. "How long it takes to thaw him out? Was that in his files?”

JARVIS was silent for a moment. “Evidence suggests approximately 24 hours from the time the procedure is first initiated,” he said.

“Right,” Tony said grimly, turning back to his work with a new urgency. “Guess it’s time.”

 Now

Tony flew north along the coast as his house collapsed into the Pacific Ocean behind him, throwing billowing clouds of dust and smoke into the air as carefully placed explosives reduced it to a smoking ruin. It was thrilling and terrifying to know that for all intents and purposes Tony Stark was sinking to the bottom of the ocean. He'd become a dead man after all, and now the only thing left was this suit and his mission: rescue the Winter Soldier then burn Hydra to the ground.

“Pull up James' video feed for me," Tony said as he flew. Since he was over water, he set the suit to autopilot and shifted his attention to the small window at the corner of his HUD.  James was out of the cryostasis chamber, sitting on a chair as a medical assistant appeared to be taking his vitals. Every now and then he shivered, still shirtless. Other technicians were milling around, tending to the computers, and standing guard were was two members of the STRIKE team, hands on their weapons as they kept an eye on him. His records had indicated that he was prone to ‘erratic violent outbursts,’ which Tony figured was code for “periodically tries to fight back.” Tony had actually been happy to read that, because it meant that Hydra hadn't managed to break him completely. Right now, though, James just seemed willing to numbly submit to whatever the technicians were doing, his long hair a curtain in front of his face as he stared at the floor.

“Sir, we are approaching the facility,” JARVIS said, and minimized the video. Tony flew lower to the water, navigating around the giant cargo ships at dock. Even for a twenty-four hour facility it was late, and there were only one or two ships that had people still unloading shipping containers. He landed close to the Hydra facility but out of the line of sight; he had managed to camouflage the suit to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t hide the bright lights of the repulsors so he made the rest of the approach on foot.

JARVIS’s scanners found four total guards around the building, patrolling in pairs. By sticking to the deep shadows cast by the stacked shipping containers and the orange-yellow glow of the sodium-vapor security lights, Tony got within hearing distance and hit them with a pulse of high-pitched wave frequency. They both stiffened and fell over, paralyzed, helmets bouncing off the pavement hard enough to knock them unconscious. Tony bound them with their own zip ties and hid them out of sight, then used his backdoor access to the security system to unlock the doors and set all the surveillance cameras on a one hour loop. As he strode through the door into the lab, all eyes turned to face him, and before anyone could even speak there was a brrrt noise and they fell to the floor, killed by the precision targeting system Tony had built into his suit.

When JARVIS confirmed they were all dead, Tony took off the helmet and looked down at one of the bodies; the one closest to him had been here a month ago, monitoring James’ vitals as they wiped his mind. This was the first time Tony had killed anyone and he expected to feel..something, sad or upset or even vindictive, but he didn’t really feel anything. It all felt too easy, and Tony knew it was because he had designed a suit that had made it that easy. All the more reason that Hydra couldn't be allowed to get their hands on it.

James was still sitting in the chair, watching Tony as he approached; he hadn’t even gone for cover as everyone around him had died. Tony wondered if it was out of surprise or indifference. “Do you know me?” He asked, coming to stand in front of him. James studied his features for a moment and shook his head. “My name is Tony Stark. You are James Buchanan Barnes, and I am here to rescue you.” Tony offered him a hand to get to his feet, but James didn’t move, he just stared at Tony with those glacier blue eyes. There wasn't blankness in them now, only a narrow-eyed look of consideration. “Come on,” Tony tried again. “We’re escaping. We have to hurry before more people show up.”

James didn’t move. “There is no escape from Hydra. The only way out is-”

“Death, I know.” Tony kept his hand out but gestured expressively around the room with the other. “But they never said whose death.”

James studied him again, then turned his gaze to the dead bodies. Finally, after a long moment, he took Tony’s hand and let him pull him to his feet.

[usual-day-dreamer]

Let Me Touch Your Fire (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader) Chapter Ten

MASTERLIST

"What is that?" You said pointing at her leg.

"There's something in there!" Mike exclaimed. Everyone was terrified, El kept crying in pain and the thing kept moving inside.

"Keep her awake okay?" Jonathan said and quickly stood up, running away to look for something to help her.

All the kids started talking loudly, it was mainly none sense but it seemed to help, her eyes were not closing. Their voices mixed with chants of "El", Mike was shaking her softly.

This poor girl, you made a mental note to protect her no matter what. As far as you knew, she had suffered a lot.

"Stay awake" Mike said "Let's get her on this side" they moved her a little. She had stopped crying, but she was drifting off.

"It's not actually that bad" Robin said as the kids moved El carefully with Steve's help "There was a... the goalie on my soccer team, Beth Wildfire, this other girl slid into her leg and the bone came out her knee" Erica, the ginger girl and you looked at her "It was insane"

"Robin" You said, and she looked at you "You are not helping"

"I'm sorry" she answered. Jonathan came back, he had a knife and a plastic glove.

"El" he said "this is gonna hurt like hell okay?"

"Okay" she sobbed.

"I need you to stay real still, you're gonna bite down on this" he placed a wooden spoon in her mouth. She bit down hard, you quickly grabbed her hand and she squeezed it tightly.

"Holy shit" Dustin looked at you. Jonathan approached the knife to her wound.

"Do it" Mike said.

Jonathan nodded "Okay" he sliced the knife on the wound. El screamed. She squeezed your hand tighter and you soothingly traced circles on her hand with your thumb.

Once the wound was opened again Jonathan pushed the knife aside. He carefully entered the wound with his fingers, and everyone exclaimed in disbelief and disgust. He moved his fingers inside trying to reach the moving thing.

"Jonathan!" Nancy screamed.

"Stop talking!" He said "Goddammit!"

"Stop it!" El screamed "Stop! Stop!" Jonathan quickly pulled his fingers out and looked at her "I can do it"

What? You thought.

You hesitantly helped her sit down. She quickly extended her arm towards the wound. The thing inside moved more and she wailed.

Eleven screamed, the crystal behind you shattered and you covered yourself and Dustin as Eleven continued with what she was doing. The creature was out of the wound and she threw it aside harshly with her mind powers. It screeched as it hit the floor.

You looked at the creature in disgust as it tried to escape. A boot stepped on it. And Joyce, Hopper and another guy came into view. El's nose was bleeding badly as she struggled to catch her breath.

Everyone gathered around, to explain what has happening. Hopper embraced Eleven and they sat on the bench in front of the fountain next to Joyce.

"The Mind Flayer built this monster to kill Eleven and pave his way into our world" Mike explained "And it almost did. That was just one tiny piece of it" Nancy continued.

"And how big is this thing?" Hopper asked, stroking El's hair softly.

"Thirty feet at least" Jonathan said and Lucas agreed. Steve was pacing, Robin was listening intensely to the conversation as she sat on the fountain and you were standing next to Dustin "It sorta destroyed your cabin" Hopper looked so done after Lucas said that "Sorry" he whispered.

"Just to be clear" Steve spoke "This big fleshy spider thing that hurt El, it's some kind of... weapon?" Joyce looked at Hopper "The Mind Flayer made it's weapon with melted people?" Nancy nodded and agreed "I'm just making sure" Steve shrugged his shoulders as he talked. Robin watched the interaction.

"Are we sure this thing is still out there alive?" Joyce asked the kids. The ginger girl, which now you knew was Max answered "El beat the shit out of it but it is still alive"

"But if we close the gate again--" Will started "We stop the brain" Max continued "And we kill it" Lucas ended, hopeful looks were exchanged.

"Yo-hoo!" a voice made you all look away, a bald guy appeared with a bunch of papers on his hands, waving them around as he walked fast towards the group. He placed the papers down on a table. Hopper stood next to him and he started talking again "Alexei called this 'The Hub', Now the Hub takes us to the vault room"

Who's Alexei? you thought listening to their conversation. "Okay. where's the gate?" Hopper asked.

"Right here" the guy pointed the map "I don't know the scale on this, but I think it's fairly close to the vault room. Maybe 50 feet or so"

Everyone was gathered around, not close enough to see the map but close enough to listen.

"More like 500" Erica butted into their conversation, everyone on the table looked at her through surprised eyes "What, you're just gonna waltz in there like it's Disneyland or something?"

Hopper raised his eyebrows in surprise "I'm sorry, but who are you?" the bald man asked.

"Erica Sinclair, who are you?" her sassy tone brought a smile to your face "Murray..." he paused, shaking his head faintly "Bauman"

"Listen, Mr. Bunman" sassy Erica was back again "I'm not trying to tell you how to do things, but I've been down on that shithole for 24 hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you are all gonna die" she gestured around the group of adults with her finger. Hopper stared at her in disbelief.

"I'm sorry but why is this four-year. Old speaking to me?" Murray said "Um, I'm ten you bald bastard" Erica said, Murray's mouth was hanging open

"Erica!" Lucas looked at her

"Just the facts!"

"She's right" Dustin started "You are all gonna die, but you don't have to, excuse me" He made his way towards the map and looked down at it "Sorry, may I?" he said

"Please" Murray said in annoyance.

Dustin sat down and pulled the map towards him “Okay, see this? This is a storage facility" Murray looked where Dustin was pointing "There's a hatch in here that feeds into their underground ventilation system. That will lead you to the face of the weapon" he drew a line with a pencil "It's a bit of a maze down there, but between me, Erica and Y/N, we can show the way"

"You can show us the way" Hopper said.

"Don't worry, you can do all the fighting and dangerous hero shit, and we'll just be..." he looked at Erica and you, you raised your eyebrows at him "Navigators" he smiled and the three of you looked at Hopper.

"There's no way I am letting you go back down there" Steve appeared next to you and you looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"No" Hopper said, Steve smiled at you and you playfully rolled your eyes, Erica and Dustin looked at him "Nope" he repeated. After that everyone moved around, trying to find something useful.

You were looking inside the drawers inside a local with Steve, keeping yourself busy so the bad thoughts could disappear "Look at this" you looked at him, tears blurring your vision at how beaten up he looked but smiled, nonetheless. He was smiling while holding a panda plushie in his hand, the panda was holding a small red bag and inside there was a fortune cookie "It's really cute"

Steve noticed your attitude change and placed it aside, walking towards you, he placed both of his hands in your face and you leaned towards his touch and closed your eyes, placing your hands on top of his "Hey" he said, his voice sounded so soft, you opened your eyes "Are you okay?"

You smiled, "I should be asking you that" he smiled, thumbs brushing against your cheek as he lovingly started at you "Everything's going the okay" he said and you nodded "Yeah" he kissed your forehead and you pulled away, averting your gaze towards your younger brother. You smiled brightly as they hugged, Steve looked at them and smiled too, holding your hand.

"I love him so much" you said, your gaze never leaving Dustin's frame.

Steve looked at you "I know"

"Heads up" Hopper's voice brought you out of your daze "You can navigate, just from someplace safe" he handed a Dustin a walkie

"It's not that simple" Dustin said the signal won't reach" Erica said

"You need something with a high enough frequency band to relay with the Russian's radio tower. But for that to work, you need someone who has both seen their comms room and has access to a super-powered handcrafted radio tower, one preferably already situated at the highest point in Hawkins" Dustin smiled sarcastically "Oh wait, that's me" Hopper looked so down as he sighed "If you want us to navigate, you got us. But we need a head start" Hopper nodded "And a car" Dustin finished.

Minutes later, you were walking out with your crew towards a car. Steve opened the doubled doors exclaiming "Oh, man, now this..." he played with the car keys "This is what I'm talking about"

"Toddfather?" Robin said looking at the car.

"Oh, screw Todd! Steve's her daddy now" he said jumping inside. Robin looked at you with a teasing smirk and you blushed.

Dustin, Erica and Robin jumped behind, and you sat in the copilot's seat

"Did he just called himself daddy?" Erica asked

"All right, where are we going?" Steve was smiling brightly

"Weathertop" Dustin answered "Weather-what?" Steve said looking behind him “Just drive" Dustin argued "Okay! Jesus" Steve aid and drove away.

A few minutes of driving, you decided to turn on the radio, Dancing with Myself was playing and you smiled, singing softly. Smiling widely as the cold night air crashed against your face in a soothing manner.

"Jesus, how far is this place man?" Steve exclaimed

"Relax, we are almost there" Dustin said with annoyance

"Suzie must be pretty special, huh?" Robin asked, "I mean, if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her?"

"Nobody is scientifically perfect but Suzie's about as close to being perfect as any human can possibly be"

"She sounds made-up to me" Erica eyed Dustin suspiciously as she said that "She sound made- up to you?" she asked Steve, he kept quiet and looked at you.

"Why are you hesitating, Steve?" Dustin asked "I'm- I'm- I'm not! I'm not!" he defended "I think she sounds real. You know, absolutely, totally real"

"Left! Turn left!" Dustin exclaimed "There's not a road here!" Steve said, "Just turn left now!" Steve did and you all screamed "Henderson! Where are we going?" Steve asked again but kept driving "Up!"

The road was bumpy as Steve kept driving.

"We are not gonna make it!" Robin said

"Yes, we are!" Steve answered "Come on baby! Come on!" Seconds after that, the car got stuck "Come on! Come on!" Steve grunted.

"Guess the Toddfather has its limitations" Robin said "Robin's right, we should walk from here" you said looking at Steve.

Steve panted and turned off the car. He jumped out and everyone followed suit running up as fast as you could.

"Bald eagle, do you copy?" Dustin got in position and you sat down with the kids catching your breath "Bald eagle, I trapear, do you copy? This is Scoops Troop"

"Yes, I copy" Murray answered and everyone chuckled in relief.

"Call sign?" Dustin asked.

"Bald eagle"

"Please repeat"

"Bald eagle, this is Bald eagle" Murray sounded angry.

"Copy that, good to hear your voice Bald eagle. What's your 20?"

"We reach the vent. I'll contact you when I need you, until then, silence"

"Roger that Bald eagle. This is Scoops Troop going radio silent. 10-10 over" Steve patted Dustin's shoulder as he finished and you grinned and then, you waited.

"Scoops Troop this is Bald Eagle; I've reached another junction"

"This is what?" Dustin asked you.

"The fourth junction" you and Erica said in unison "All right, if my memory serves, this is right after the My Little Pony thesis"

"We went left so he has to go right" Erica said

"Fly right Bald Eagle"

"Roger that, flying right"

"What's the My Little Pony thesis?" Robin asked

"Don't get him started" Erica warmed Robin with a roll of her eyes "Just tell me, I-"

"Hey, guys?" Everyone looked at Steve and walked rapidly towards him, the lights of the mall were blinking like crazy and realization gutted everyone. The Troop quickly ran back towards cerebro to check on the others.

"Griswold family this is Scoops Troop do you copy?" Dustin kept trying, weird noises coming from the other side as he tried to communicate with their friends.

A roar answered and you widened your eyes

"Griswold family please confirm your safety! Are you en route to Bald eagle's next?"

Dustin kept trying, his voice growing desperate as he spoke. No one answered.

Steve stood up and staring making his way to the car "Where are you going?" Erica screamed

"To get them the hell out of there!" You stood up and ran towards him "I'm going!"

Steve was going to protest but you shoot him a glare and he nodded hesitantly "Stay here, contact the others!"

"Y/N! Stay in contact" you caught the walkie with ease "Stay safe! Robin please take care of them" Robin nodded and you ran behind Steve.

You heard Dustin's voice in the distance, and you swallowed your tears as you jumped inside the car next to Steve.

[alejaosbastardos]

On the Road

Summary: Ten years after the massacre at the border, Daniel’s life had changed a lot, the death of his father and brother, his escape to Puerto Lobos to start a new life, dragging a past that he could never leave behind. When Daniel decided that he would never see a familiar face again, the past and the present cross in his road.

Chapter 5: Friendship

Daniel wasn’t sleeping.

Yes, he was lying on the couch and his eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping.

Yesterday He had finally been able to sleep 4 hours in the morning, but today? Nothing.

It should be around 7:00 a.m., he felt the sunlight on his eyelids. He had tried to sleep at 4:00 a.m., but he couldn't.

He sighed and got up from the couch.

Another night without sleeping a shit. He thought.

The house was completely silent, Chris must still be sleeping.

Daniel took out a pack of cigarettes he had stored in the kitchen and opened the door carefully to avoid waking Chris. There was no one around the beach, so he sat on the first step of his porch and lit a cigarette, then he took it to his mouth.

The waves of the sea moved smoothly along the coast. Daniel loved the sound of the waves.

A puff of smoke came out of his mouth as he watched the landscape.

Daniel threw and stepped on the cigarette when a brown figure in the distance quickly approached him when she noticed his presence.

"Hey! Kiara!"

The dog greeted him by licking his face while Daniel smiled.

"Where were you? I was already beginning to worry about you." He said while stroking her head, Kiara barked at him as she waved her tail happily.

"Mmm, you must be hungry, I'll get you some food."

But when he got up and opened the door, Chris was on the other side about to open the door too.

"Hey." Daniel greeted.

"Hey." Chris repeated and a huge yawn came out of his mouth. "Good mornaaaang."

"Yes, good mornaaaang for you too."

"You are a dick." He shook his head and looked outside the house. "Oh, do you have a dog?"

Chris walked to Kiara and put his hand toward her to caress her.

"Be careful, she doesn't like strangers." Kiara put her head close to Chris's hand and started licking him. "Well, except you."

"Who doesn't like me?" He smiled and began to stroke Kiara's body. "Boy or girl?"

"Girl, her name is Kiara."

"She is super cute."

"And she's not mine. But two years ago She got hurt in the street, so I brought her here to heal her." Daniel said as he caressed her too. "She stayed with me until she was better, since that day she always visits me every morning."

"That is so cool, I always wanted to have a dog." Chris said. "But my father never liked the idea, and my grandparents had cats, so I could never have one."

"Did you live with your grandparents?"

"Yes.. a while after you left my father decided that he needed to solve some personal problems he had and thought it was the best to me to stay with my grandparents." Chris replied without saying much.

"I get it."

Daniel neither asked nor said anything else.

He entered the house and took out a food bowl for dogs and drinking water.

"I always have bags of food for when she comes to visit me." Daniel said as he brought the food bowl to Kiara. "Although I know I'm not the only one who feeds her, she has the whole neighborhood in her pocket."

Chris laughed.

Kiara barked and wagged her tail happily before eating her food.

"Daniel, don't you mind if I use your kitchen to make breakfast?" Chris asked.

"It depends, if you're going to make me breakfast too, no, it wouldn't bother me." Daniel said trying to sound serious.

Chris rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Well, yes, I was going to make breakfast to you too."

"It's a joke dude."

"You clean the dishes and I cook, is it a deal?"

"Deal."

________________________

"Mmm dude." Chris called him.

"Mmm?" Daniel replied that he was lying on the couch writing on his phone.

"There is no bread in the fridge, I only see cans of beers, butter, water, milk, ketchup, a tomato and... an old lemon?"

"Oh shit, sorry, I forgot that I had to go to the market."

"Well, we have the eggs at least."

"What else do you need to cook?"

"I think we're fine, we can eat scrambled eggs and drink the remaining milk, but we should buy food for later."

"Ok." Daniel said as he approached the cupboard to check what he needed to buy. "But before we go to the market, I need to go somewhere. I promise that I won't be there for long."

"Where?"

"Sean's grave."

"Oh."

Both were silent for a few minutes until Chris spoke.

"Can I go with you?"

Daniel looked at him.

"Of course you can, he will be happy to see you again."

After Chris made the scrambled eggs, they both sat down to eat on the couch.

"Not bad, it’s very good." Daniel said before taking another spoonful to his mouth.

"Things you have to learn when you live alone." Chris said.

"Don’t speak for me, I don’t know how to cook."

Chris laughed.

"How are you supposed to feed yourself?"

"Most of the time I eat street food, and if I have to cook because I have no choice, I always cook very simple things."

"Well, it's not that hard, I can teach you if you want."

"I will consider your proposal."

Chris finished eating his plate and sighed.

"Dude, I need a favor from you." He said as his cheeks began to turn red with shame.

"Uh, ok, what happened?"

"Well I don't know if you've noticed it but when I entered your house I didn't have any suitcases."

"Oh, someone stole you?"

"No... well yes, I know, it's stupid."

"Dammit." Daniel cursed "Are you alright? Did he do something to you?"

"No, not really, he threatened me with a knife but nothing happened, he just took my suitcase."

"Mmm, how did he look?"

"I don't know, he was behind me and I couldn't look at him because he was threatening me." Chris said. "Why is that important?"

"For nothing.. I just want to know." Daniel replied. "Sorry dude, it's not very safe here, you have to be careful when you're alone in the street."

"Yes, I know.." Chris said. "My question is if you can lend me some of your clothes? I promise to buy some clothes so I don't keep bothering you."

"I don't mind lending you my clothes, I just think it wouldn't be your style, you know." Daniel said as he looked at Captain America's shirt that Chris was wearing.

"I will make a sacrifice this time if I can wear some clean clothes."

"Ok, ok, I'll give you clean clothes." Daniel said laughing.

After Daniel gave him some clean clothes, Chris went to the bathroom. Daniel took the time to wash all the dirty dishes and put them in their place.

When Chris opened the bathroom door he found Daniel sitting on his bed using his cell phone with more clean clothes next to him.

"Hey, you look great wearing that shirt." Daniel said as he looked at the skeleton drawing.

"You really believe it?"

"Well, that shirt looks more like you than me. I didn't wear it, it was a gift but I didn't like it."

"Mmm, I like it."

Daniel smiled at him.

"I'll go to take a shower too." He said as he stood up and took off his shirt to go to the bathroom.

Chris looked at his chest for a few seconds and then looked away to another place.

"Uh, well .. I'll wait for you outside the house."

"Okay."

Before Daniel closed the bathroom door Chris looked at his back.

When he left the house, Chris saw two kids swimming on the beach.

He took out his cell phone and looked at the charge percentage.

1%

Awesome. He thought sarcastically, his cell phone charger was in the suitcase that was stolen.. so he is fucked up.

He sighed and sat down the first step to look at the beach.

He would have to ask Daniel for his cell phone to call his grandparents and tell them that he was fine, at least he could contact them yesterday in the morning.

And Karen.. Chris has to convince Daniel to talk to her.

He still doesn't know how, Daniel seems to hold a lot of resentment yet.

"Chris." Daniel called him at the entrance of the house, he had another sleeveless shirt on. "Come on."

______________________

Daniel and Chris walked together until they arrived at what looked like an old construction that was never finished, next to it was a blue cross with several flowers and candles that had the image of the Virgin Mary.

R.I.P

SEAN

Daniel reached down and took the withered flowers from the vases.

"Later I will bring him some new ones, these flowers are already very withered."

"Daniel."

"What?"

"How did all this feel?" Chris wasn't quite sure to ask this question.

"Like a fucking hell."

"It still hurts?"

"As if it were the first day."

"Dude.. you know, regardless of what you believe, none of this is your fault." Chris said.

"Don't try to comfort me, if I hadn't taken Sean to that damn police shooting none of this would have happened." Daniel said.

"You were a child."

"And nothing will change the result."

"It was too much for you, both were children in a situation that neither could handle, you both didn't know what to do at that time where there was so much injustice on the part of those who had the duty to protect you, you didn't know how to use your powers." Chris replied. "You just tried to defend yourself."

"You know, every night before I go to sleep I think about what it would have been better to do at that time." Daniel's gaze was fixed on the cross. "Obviously what I decided to do was the worst decision of all."

"Daniel.."

"Chris." Daniel said. "If I had accepted Sean's decision to turn himself in to the police he would be alive right now."

Chris didn't answer anymore. Daniel got up and shook his pants.

The laughter of the kids was heard in the distance.

"Let's go, we can get the flowers in the market too." Daniel said and walked towards the street to throw away the old flowers.

Chris stood a few minutes standing in front of Sean's grave, his sad look was fixed on the cross.

"I'm so sorry Sean."

________________________

Daniel walked to an old pickup that was parked in the back of his house and took out the keys to open it.

"I didn't know you had a pickup." Chris said as he looked at it curiously.

"Well, yes, this shit is old but I like it a lot." Daniel said as he opened the passenger door. "Come on."

When Chris got in the car, Daniel started the engine and drove back until he reached the road.

Upon arrival, he pressed the throttle forward.

Chris watched the landscape as he felt the wind on his face.

"There is a lot of desert around here." Chris said. "It reminds me of the Colorado desert, but with less vegetation."

"Yes, welcome to Puerto Lobos, you are hardly going to see a tree in this shit, there are only cactus." Daniel answered and turned on the radio.

A Metallica song began to play in the background.

"So, are you going to tell me why that drastic change of look?" Chris asked.

"Uh? Oh, do you mean the tattoos?" Daniel asked amused.

"Well yes, but your hair surprised me a lot."

"The hair thing was stupid, I'm not going to lie to you." He said laughing. "I lost a bet."

"Dude, really?"

"Yes, the first time was because I lost the bet, then I started dyeing it because I liked how it looked."

"Well, the color looks good on you."

"Yes, people always tell me that I have a handsome face so anything I decide to do with my hair would be look good, who knows, maybe I will dye it green or something like this next time... If I'm bored enough to do that. "

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea." Chris said laughing.

Daniel laughed.

"It's a joke, but I miss my original color, so I'll let it grow to cut it later."

"That sounds better."

"What about you? You haven't changed much. You are exactly the same Captain Spirit I met 10 years ago." Daniel asked. "Do you still do cosplay and that shit?"

Chris laughed.

"Dude, you are a dick, jesus." He said as he dried the tears of laughter. "Well, you got me there."

"No shit." Daniel said laughing. "You became an otaku or.. what is the name of the Japanese shit?"

"No, I mean, anime is fine, but I like comics more than manga."

"Well, I don't know what is the difference between a comic and a manga to be honest." Daniel said  "But do you cosplay?"

Chris rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Yes, I've done cosplay, especially Marvel."

"Well dude, that's cool." Daniel said. “You should show me a photo of you wearing a cosplay.”

"Well, thanks I guess?” Chris said amused. “and no, definitely not.”

"What are you studying? I guess something that has to do with arts?"

"Actually, yes." Chris replied. "Interdisciplinary Arts."

"That's great, I'm happy for you Chris."

Chris smiled at him.

"You also draw."

"Yes, but I doubt I have the same professional level you have."

"Well, that's something I have to decide, not you."

"Ok, I promise to show you a drawing of mine next time.." Daniel said looking at him. "After we buy the things we need, but you must also show me your art."

"Deal?"

"Deal."

Both boys smiled at each other.

[yoon-kooks]

Little Things

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: FriendsToLovers!AU, FWB, Fluff

Summary: You never thought a casual one-night stand would lead to six months of friends-with-benefits shenanigans, nor did you believe that something as simple as borrowing his hoodie would make you question your feelings for him.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: this is day one of my yoongi fluff week 2.0!! tomorrow ill be posting a short dogwalker!au ft. min holly ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ check out the official myg fluff week post for the full schedule~!

When the rustling of sheets finally settles after a long night, it’s all routine. First you cuddle your bare body up to his and listen for your heartbeats to slow. Then you stare longingly, waiting for a kiss. And when you finally get the kiss, you never want it to end—the feeling of his tender lips against yours. But then it does, and the two of you have a moment of silence to cherish each other’s company.

“I should get going now,” you break the silence, running a delicate index finger along his chest.

Yoongi waits until your finger has made its way up to the tip of his chin before nodding. Your lips can’t hold back a tiny smile and giggle. It’s always so funny how the two of you don’t have much to say once the physical intimacy ends, and yet, there’s this unspoken feeling that lingers between you and him.

And after giving the boy one final smooch on the cheek, you sit up in the bed and stretch. The boy, too, knows that’s his cue to get cleaned up and dressed. You enjoy the view as he rolls out of the blankets first to slip on a fresh pair of boxers.

“Hey Yoongi, can you toss me my underwear please?” you ask innocently, still waiting beneath the warmth of the blankets. His eyes glance over at the bottom corner of his bed, the designated spot where all your clothes got tossed aside amidst the sex. But in the aftermath, your clothing seems to have disappeared.

“Help me look for them, Lazy.” Yoongi sneaks another peek at your exposed chest before handing you a heavy black mass. It isn’t until you unfold the black mass that you realize it’s one of his many hoodies. One of the hoodies you’d always wanted to try on when he wasn’t looking because it looked so soft and comfy.

You slip the hoodie over your naked body, thankful that it covers just below your ass cheeks. Although you really want to check yourself out in the mirror, you instead help the boy gather your clothes that had somehow scattered across the bedroom. A sweater is found on the floor, jeans thrown over the chair, a cute bralette hanging over the computer screen, and lace panties in the hand of your friend with benefits.

Snatching your last garment out of Yoongi’s hand, you smirk. “I’d put these back on, but they’re probably all dirty now. So I won’t~” Instead of putting any of your own clothes back on, you shove them into your bag and opt to make use of Yoongi’s hoodie. The boy picks up on your naughty intentions and pulls the hood over your head, perhaps to trap in the warmth.

“Are you going to be warm enough like that on the way home?” Yoongi starts digging through his dresser for some sweatpants you can borrow along with the hoodie. “It’s cold out tonight, you know.”

“It takes like five minutes for me to drive home, so I think I’ll be fine, Yoongi. But I appreciate the thought,” you giggle at his sweet gesture. The two of you might only be acquaintances who use each other for sex, but he’s definitely the most thoughtful boy you’ve come across. You can recall so many instances in which you were on the receiving end of his soft side, like the time he helped you cover up a bad hickey with makeup, or how he disses the annoying coworkers you always rant to him about. And part of you envies the lucky person who’ll someday be blessed with all his love and affection.

“Fine, but just remember to return my hoodie when you have time,” he puts on a pouty lip as he walks you to the door.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep it forever. Thanks,” you stick your tongue out and wave goodbye with sweaterpaws.

-

When you awake the next morning, you’re nice and toasty thanks to Yoongi’s hoodie. It’s so comfy, you had fallen asleep in it as soon you laid down on your bed. And for a solid ten minutes, you roll around your bed contemplating whether or not to “accidentally” steal Yoongi’s hoodie and claim it as your own.

After coming to the conclusion that theft is never the answer, you change into a clean set of your own clothes and toss Yoongi’s hoodie into the washer along with your dirty laundry. You suppose you should be a good person and return the hoodie all clean and neatly folded. But until the laundry is done, an idea pops into mind. You pull out your phone and text the boy.

[9:27AM] Y/N “are you free for dinner tonight?”

[9:29AM] Yoongles “why yes i am”

[9:30AM] Yoongles “was there somewhere in particular you wanted to get food from?”

[9:30AM] Y/N “just come to my place 💃”

[9:33AM] Yoongles “oh 😳”

[9:33AM] Yoongles “omw 🏃‍♂️”

[9:35AM] Y/N “NO NOT NOW you horny fucker”

[9:36AM] Y/N “LATER.”

[9:37AM] Yoongles “later 🤤”

You can only shake your head with a smile as you toss your phone aside. Smiling like an idiot seems to be becoming a bad habit the more you interact with Yoongi.

“Hey Y/N, I’m expecting a package today with some, uh, adult toys, so answer the door if someone knocks. I’m gonna be out with Jimin. Thanks in advance~” Your nosy roommate, Taehyung, pops his head into your room and chuckles when he sees your face. “Oh shit, you’re smiling like an idiot again… Let me guess—Yoongi finally asked you to marry him?”

“Yoongi and I aren’t like that,” you throw a heart-shaped pillow at the boy.

“Funny, you said the same thing after you had that fateful ‘one-night stand’ with him. Half a year later and you’re still sleeping with him,” Taehyung shrugs as if your love life is any of his business. “So, naturally, the next step after friends with benefits would be for y’all to date, yeah?”

For a moment, you really do consider the possibility of being that lucky person who could call Yoongi their boyfriend. But at the same time, you’d worry that your relationship with him wouldn’t last outside of the physical intimacy. “I really don’t think so, Tae.”

Taehyung frowns, chucking the pillow back at you. “Whatever you say, Y/N. But I’m just saying when you got home last night, you looked awfully happy and cozy. Enamored, even.”

“That’s because he let me borrow his hoodie…”

“Yeah, but whenever you borrow my clothes, it feels a lot more malicious and petty than heartfelt, you know.” With an overexaggerated hmph, your roommate backs out of your doorway.

“It’s just… different.” Because your world is somehow different when Min Yoongi’s involved.

-

As soon as the clean laundry comes out of the dryer, you’re so tempted to wear the toasty hoodie one last time. You slip your arm in the sleeve “just to test how warm it is fresh out of the dryer”, and the coziness only reminds you more of the boy who let you borrow it in the first place. He’s sweet, he’s gentle (except in bed!), but he’s not yours.

You slowly retract your arm from the sleeve with a disheartening feeling, but pause halfway out of the temptation that never seems to fade. You really shouldn’t be playing around with something that doesn’t belong to you, and yet, it’s something you can’t let go of.

So maybe, just until Yoongi shows up, you’ll secretly wear his hoodie to keep warm as you run to the grocery store and start preparing dinner in the kitchen…

Knock. Of course someone has to knock on your door right when you’re about to start prepping dinner. You seriously contemplate whether or not you should ignore the inconsiderate person who had the audacity to interrupt your mission in the kitchen. But it might be Taehyung’s dildo, so you suppose you should answer the door.

“Oh,” is all you can say when you open the door and see Yoongi eyeing you up and down in his clothes. You’re caught red-handed.

“Cute hoodie you got there.” He gives you a nod of approval as if he wasn't the one who bought it in the first place. But maybe this means he doesn’t mind you wearing his stuff. Maybe he likes the way it looks on you.

“Thanks, it does look pretty cute on me, doesn’t it?” you play along before switching back to reality. “What are you doing here so early? I told you to come by for dinner, not lunch. The only reason why I bothered to answer the door was because I thought it was Tae’s dildo. I haven’t even started preparing the food yet and-”

“Wait, two questions: 1) Dildo? And 2) you’re making dinner?” Yoongi tilts his head with wide eyes. “If I had known, I would’ve brought over drinks or dessert… maybe a fruit tart or someth-”

“No… We’re making dinner. Together,” you stop him from rambling on. “And yes, dildo.”

After dragging the boy into the kitchen, you throw a spare apron at him. He leans against the counter looking awfully boyfriend-like, waiting for the head chief to give him directions.

“You can chop the vegetables and I’ll handle the noodles and broth, okay?” You walk him around your kitchen, briefly going over where cooking utensils and ingredients can be found. He nods with a chuckle over how serious you are about cooking dinner together.

“Yoongi, come here,” you say an hour later, once the vegetable soup is just about ready to come off the stove. With a tiny spoon, you scoop up some broth and feed it to the boy. “How is it?”

“Hmm…..” He smacks his lips and takes his sweet time in giving you proper feedback. “Can I have another taste?”

You dip the spoon into the pot and hold it out for Yoongi taste once more. Except this time, you pull the spoon away just before he can taste anything and stick it into your own mouth in triumph. Your smirking lips keep the spoon in place, taunting him.

He steps a little closer, backing you against the counter, until he has a grip on the spoon. Tugging gently enough for you to fight back, he laughs at you “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

You shrug, still keeping a tight hold on the spoon between your lips. It’s only when his face draws near yours that you weaken your grip and allow the spoon to slip out. Because there’s something else you’d rather have between your lips than a fucking spoon.

With a spontaneous kiss on the lips, you give Yoongi an innocent smile before forcing him to get the bowls and another spoon. And once the soup is all dished out, you lead him to the couch with bowls in hand.

“Ooh, it’s good, right?” you ask while slurping up a long noodle.

“It’s only good because someone did a phenomenal job chopping up those veggies.” He leans over to wipe off the tiny bit of broth that had splattered onto your cheek. “What made you want to cook soup all of a sudden?”

“Because it’s nice to have something warm when it’s cold out?” you chug down a good amount of your broth. “And because I wanted to share something with you, as thanks for letting me borrow your hoodie last night.”

“And you’re still wearing it, by the way.”

“Well do you want me to take it off now? During dinner?” You set your soup bowl down on the coffee table and teasingly tug at the bottom hem of the hoodie.

“Maybe a little later?” He flips the hood over your head again. “You’re free for the rest of the night?”

Nodding, you pull a blanket over yourself and snuggle up to the boy as he finishes up his soup. That unspoken feeling lingers again.

“Y/N,” he says once his empty bowl is set down on the table next to yours.

“Yeah?” You throw part of your blanket over his lap as he settles back onto the couch with you.

“Cooking was fun.” He runs his fingers along your back in a soothing motion. “It’s a good thing I came early, right?”

“Let’s do it again soon. I want to try making tacos next time,” you yawn.

“Okay,” is the last thing you hear him say before drifting off to sleep. Cooking with a friend was a lot more exhausting than you had anticipated. But like the boy said, it was fun. And it’s the little things like that that you appreciate so much about your relationship with Yoongi.

-

“Y/N.” In the midst of your slumber, you feel something soft poke your cheek but you decide to ignore it.

“Y/N, wake up.” You feel something shake your shoulder but you decide to ignore it.

“Y/N, c’mon on.” You feel something warm against your lips that you can’t ignore. So you kiss back.

“Mm… What time is it?” You stretch your body out, still in the arms of someone warm.

“It’s seven in the morning, and I have to be at the studio in half an hour,” Yoongi’s soothing voice almost puts you back to sleep until you realize you’d slept right through the night with the boy on your couch.

“No you don’t,” you giggle, rolling yourself on top of the boy to give him a couple of love bites. And after a rather affectionate hug, you finally let him go. “Just kidding.”

“Haha, very funny, Dork.” He flips the hood over your head once more before heading to the door. “Thanks for the soup. I enjoyed last night.” A night without the obligations of friends with benefits.

“Me too.” As he opens the door, you remember something, “Wait, Yoongi. Your hoodie.” You start struggling to get the oversized black mass over your head until he stops you.

“You can keep it,” he laughs at you.

“…You’re really letting me keep it?” Your eyes brighten. “But that’s such a boyfriend-thing to do, you know.”

“I know. Do you want it or not, Dork?”

“I want it!” you hiss at him. “But does that mean you don’t mind if we’re something more than just, uh, friends who fuck a lot?”

“You mean like dating?”

“That or, umm… Yeah that.” You shrink yourself in the hoodie. “Like, we can make tacos together and stuff.”

“We could do that,” Yoongi nods. “It’s actually been on my mind for a while now.”

“Mine too.” You throw your arms around the boy’s neck and send him off with a dozen kisses on the cheek.

[dokidoki-tae]

feeling sad, Can I get some wholesome first kisses from their s/o from the la squadra murder babies?

I’m sorry you’re feeling sad! I hope you feel better later on! Here you go! 

Risotto: You were surprised when Risotto had asked you out. He didn’t seem like the type of man who would have time or interest to go on dates. But several dates later, you were officially a couple. You couldn’t go out together often because Risotto’s job kept him busy, so you spent a lot of time in his office, reading one of his many books. Though you didn’t mind, he felt regretful for not spending his time with you. He promised himself he’d do something to make it up. Normally, he’d never kick out his team for someone he was casually seeing, but it was you and your bond was anything but casual. So he kicked them out (lol). He was planning on surprising you with dinner, but you showed up early, something you didn’t think would be an issue. He’s surprised but hides it well. As he welcomes you in, he confesses he was planning a dinner for you and was just about to start cooking. You were touched and offer your help, remarking how it’s something couple do together. He smiles at your and opens up space for you to join him. He gently chastises you when you sneak samples of food. It smells too good to resist. You know it doesn’t bother Risotto, liking how cute he looks when he jokingly sighs at your childishness. When he’s not looking, you get a spoon and sneak one more taste of the sauce for your main dish. You tense when you hear your name. He’s caught you once again. “I wasn’t doing anything,” holding your hands up defensively. He quirked an eyebrow and hums knowingly. He bends to get at eye-level and studies your face. You can’t help but grow hot under his intense gaze. Next thing you know, Risotto lips are on yours,  and for a brief second is tongue glides and part open your mouth. You stand there stunned and red-faced as Risotto licks his lips. “You had some sauce,” he explains casually. You stare at him in silence before getting a spoonful of sauce all over lips, giving him a cheeky smile. Risotto didn’t bother to hide his devilish smirk. 

Prosciutto: He’s been a gentleman the entire time you’ve been dating. Kissing the back of your hand, your cheeks, or your forehead goodnight. Sometimes he leans in, making it seem like he’s gonna kiss your lips. You can’t help but close your eyes only to feel his lips on your forehead. Tease is all that comes to mind. You both want each other, but Prosciutto wants you to be bolder in your desire and want for him. One night, he takes you to dinner, laughing at stories about his squad and things in your life. You both have several glasses of wine before sauntering home. You have your arm locked around his, still giggling about something you told hours ago. He smiles softly, admiring how carefree and beautiful you look on that night. Well, every night, but you look so much happier now. You point out how beautiful the city looks at night. “But it will never be able to match your beauty, tesoro.” Prosciutto always has the talent to turn you into different shades of red. When you reach your home, Prosciutto does his usual thing; kiss your hand and cheek good night. As enter your home and he turns to leave, you pause and quickly grab onto his jacket, preventing him from leaving. He looks at you, asking if anything is wrong. “Can I kiss you?” You ask. His eyes widen slightly before he composes himself just as quickly. He tries to hide the smile threatening to dance on his lips, amused by your straightforwardness. It’s not like most spontaneous kisses he’s had in the past. He moves closer to you, leaning in and expecting to officially kiss you. But you feel nothing as you wait for his kiss. You open your eyes. confused until he says, “I thought you were going to kiss me, tesoro?” You pout at his teasing, finally realizing he wants you to take control and kiss him. Just like he asked, you slide your arms around his neck and pull him to you, getting a faint taste of the wine you had that night.

Pesci: Pesci has never kissed anyone before! He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to ask the others for help but was afraid to ask. Prosciutto noticed how he was acting and offered his help. Prosciutto had the idea of hiring a sex worker for Pesci to practice on. Pesci put his arms up to put space between him and the worker, frantically stating that he didn’t want to and saying he wanted his first kiss with you. Prosciutto rolls his eyes at Pesci’s idea of remaining pure for someone. The encounter has Pesci thinking about your relationship. You received a message from Pesci that said he was fishing and how it would be more fun with you there. You ask for his location and go to meet him. After some silence, Pesci confessed that he was truly in love with you and told the story of what Prosciutto tried to do, how he couldn’t give his first kiss to someone else. Just you. Hearing that, you grab his face and turn him to you, kissing him. It felt like you were kissing a wall. You pull back and kiss again. After parting, you say that you two will have more time.

Formaggio: You and Formaggio are known by many bar owners and bartenders. They know who to go to when Formaggio has a little too much to drink. You’re the first person they call when the bar is closing and Formaggio is laying on the ground and bellowing some random song. You receive a call pretty late at night and see Formaggio’s name, but just as you expected, it’s the voice of another person. Alessandro from La Traviata. One of Formaggio’s favorite places. He needs you to come get Formaggio, commenting on his drunkenness. The bar isn’t too far from your place, so you decide to take care of him, to make sure he doesn’t drown in his own vomit. Formaggio is very affectionate when he’s drunk but he’s always retrained himself, never forcing himself on you. It made yo you feel both like he respected your space but made you wonder if he was actually interested in you. When you enter your home, you carefully sit him on your recliner as you planned to set up your room for him, wanting him to sleep comfortably. He’s more drunk than usual and so he might feel compelled to throw up anywhere, and he’d also be hungover. Before you could go, Formaggio pulls you onto his lap and buries his head into your rest, nuzzling and wiping his drool on you. “You’re the only one who loves me, amore mio. How did I get so lucky?” He slurs. “Maggio...” You caress his head, placing a kiss on the crown of his head. You chuckle when he essentially purrs at your ministration. “I love you.” It’s the first time you hear him say that and you can’t but have tears in your eyes. You whisper his name before kissing him deeply, tasting whatever he had to drink that night. Pulling back, he and you take a second to catch your breath. You go to close the distance once more, wanting to feel his lips on you again. Then Formaggio looks down and feels your lap dampen from all your boyfriend’s drinks had that night. It’s certainly a first kiss story to remember. 

Illuso: You’ve been dating for a while but have yet to officially kiss. You’ve always tried to initiate it but the intensity of his red eyes always has you pulling back. Illuso hides his disappointment when he notices your hesitation. It was one day when you were spending a lazy day with him that it happened. Both of you had fallen asleep, but you were the first to wake up. You didn’t want to wake Illuso, knowing he likes to get his “beauty” sleep, he calls it. So you intended on reading until he woke up. You couldn’t concentrate; you couldn’t help but watch him sleep. He looks so different sleeping, so delicate and soft. He usually has this intensity about him because of his looks and confidence. Building up the courage, you scooted closer, brushing some of the loose strands of hair on his face. You lower, inching your lips closer to his. Your lips are ghosting over each other and your heart is pounding. It would be your first kiss together and he wouldn’t even be awake. That thought caused you to start to pull back until you felt the bed shift, a hand on the back of your head pushing you down, and lastly, a pair of lips pressed against yours. “Amore, haven’t you read fairytales? Only a kiss can wake someone up from slumber.”

Melone: He’s no stranger to kissing and more but something about you has gotten him feeling like a novice. He is dramatic about wanting to kiss you and wanting it to be perfect. He basically monologuing about this dilemma throughout HQ. Asking Ghiaccio to help him, which Ghiaccio responds with “DIE!” Melone doesn’t appreciate his friend’s insensitivity to his situation. He finally decides how he’s going to kiss you. He’s planning a romantic dinner, buying you the finest wine, at the best restaurant, leave you blushing with his compliments, pulls you to him on a clear night where the moonlight will shine on both of you while it highlights your best features: all of you. He’s planning this out when you message him, asking what he’s doing. “Thinking of you,” he types. He’s such a cheesy romantic, you don’t know how to respond most of the time. You shy away from flirting and end up responding casually. You tell him you’re bored and asked if he wants to watch a movie. He accepts, writing how he missed being around you. He arrives, knocks, and lets himself in. He sees you on the couch and you smile when your eyes meet. he goes and makes himself comfortable next to you. You’re wearing clothes typical for a lazy day. He loves seeing you like this just as much as when you fix yourself up. It tells him you feel comfortable enough to allow him in your private space. He keeps on glancing at you as the movie plays; he can’t help but find you cute. After several minutes, you have to ask him if there is something on your face that keeps making him look at you. He plans on saying something clever, but instead blurts out, “I want to kiss you.” Melone stiffens at his own honest confession but is equally taken aback by your relaxed “Okay.” His eyes dart from your eyes to your lips, making sure it’s truly okay, and he licks his own for anticipation. This isn’t how he planned it, but here you were opening yourself to him. How can he disappoint you? He reasons and he pulls you close.

Ghiaccio: He wanted to kiss you so bad, but didn’t know how to go about it. He really liked you. He didn’t want the off chance of fucking it up. Melone feeds him ideas and Ghiaccio tells him to mind his business but takes his advice of taking you ice skating. He had many things in mind: you would hold on to him and he’s show off a little and maybe teach you how to skate, but it fell through. Once you’re there though, you refuse to let go of the rail, whining about falling and cracking your head. He knew yelling at you wasn’t going to help, so he glided around effortlessly, showing off just a little at least. He hoped it would encourage you to at least try, and it did. It lit a fire in you. Though, you were a little too enthusiastic and tried to skate to him. He yelled at you to wait for him, but it was too late. Your face hit the ice before he could catch you. You hear, “SHIT SHIT SHIT” as he pulled you up. Guiding you, he sat you on a bench and examined your injury., calling you a reckless idiot as he did. You only had cut your bottom lip. He took you back to his car to clean up the wound. You felt bad for ruining the date. Ghiaccio noticed, frowning deeply, hating seeing you sad. You apologize to him for being careless and for ruining your date. He reprimands you for your negligence but mumbles that you didn’t ruin anything and reluctantly admits how he was just worried when he saw you fall. At that, you feel tears swell, realizing how much he cares about you. You pull him to you and press your lips against his. He can taste the cream he applied on your lips. You pull back and smile widely and then twist into irritation, complaining about how it hurts to kiss. He smirks and flicks your forehead, calling you “dummy” before placing a gentle kiss on your lips that time.

Sorbet and Gelato: You all may be a couple. But they kissed you at different moments. They have an apartment they rent out often when they want alone time with your or with each other and to get away from the team sometimes. One night, after dinner, Gelato and you were washing the dishes. He was recounting a funny story about Ghiaccio, Melone, and Sorbet. You joyful laughter can’t help but make butterflies form in his stomach. Gelato knows Sorbet doesn’t like it when he tells embarrassing stories him but knows it’s worth it to see you smile. When you’re done washing the dishes, Gelato opens his arms, beckoning you to him. “Thank you for helping me with the dishes.” You mimic and wrap your arms around him and suddenly feel his lips on yours. He tilts your head to deepen the kiss, using his thumb to part them just barely. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. When Gelato pulls away, you dazed with your mouth agape. Gelato laughs and closes it. Thanking you again for helping with the dishes. Sorbet shakes his head when Gelato tells him about this. For Sorbet, he brought you shopping with him to buy groceries your yourselves. You were walking around as Sorbet moved about the stores only intending on buying what they absolutely needed. Ignoring you when you wanted to look at the chocolate section. You go to find a good brand to snack on. You meet Sorbet at the register, seeing his already intended on paying and he motions you to include your chocolate bar. You ignore him just as he did you pay for it on your own. He signs at your behaviors but leaves you be. Once your home, after a silent drive, you're almost done with your chocolate. The last squares of chocolate are held between your teeth. “Hey,” Sorbet goes to get your attention. When you turn, his mouth is on yours. He uses his tongue to part open your lips. He takes a small bite of your chocolate before pushing the rest into your own mouth using his tongue. He flashes you a wink before taking the groceries inside promoting you to run after him.

im sorry this took so long T-T

[bravonovel]

Love Invalid novel read online - Athena - Bravonovel

Love Invalid

Blurb : What happens when one kiss turns your world upside down? That one simple kiss makes your life into something unexpected. Athena Delaney works at a publishing company to publish gossips and news about celebrities. One drunken night, she met a well known football player from Spain. Well not exactly, she didn't know he was even a football player. Alexander Herrera finds her interesting that he couldn't resist her pink tempting lips. So he kissed her. Him, the well known footballer kissed a stranger he just met at the bar. But little did he know that, one kiss changes it all.

Love Invalid novel is a romance story about Athena.

You can read this novel online on Bravonovel and keep track of the latest chapters

Read novel Love Invalid chapter 1

Athena

''What the fuck!'' I shout as loud as I can when I see the sight in front of me. My eyes widen in anger when I see him kissing his own co-worker. See, seeing your boyfriend making out with someone else isn't really a great view but I find myself relief at the same time.

You see, Jeremy—my boyfriend has been cheating on me for the past two years since we've both finish college. I gave him a second chance—wait no, I gave him exactly three chances but he just has to go around and ruin those chances.

''Athena, it's not what you think.'' He steps away from his co-worker as he walk toward

me.

Oh well, first let me introduce myself. My parents gave me the name Athena because they thought that I would grow up with wisdom, courage, inspiration, civilization, law and justice, strategic welfare, mathematics, strength, strategy, the arts, craft and skill. They thought I would match the goddess of wisdom, Athena.

Unfortunately, from all those meaningful meanings, I only got stuck with one—courage. My mom's Greek so she used to tell me stories about mythology when I was little but I myself, don't really give a damn about Greek mythology. I only know one though, Cupid which is Eros and Eros which is Cupid. Make sense.

I'm the only child and in my situation, my parents spoiled me. They feed me with silver spoons and treat me like a princess. I got everything I wanted and people at school used to envy me but I really don't care. I just don't care what other people think. Up till now, I have been the same.

''Well fuck you Jeremy. You have been saying that for the past two years!'' I throw my hands up in the air. True though, every time I caught him cheating, he would be like Athena, it's not what you think. I wasted two years with him and I just realise that he's a piece of shit, useless and hopeless.

''Athena, wait. Let me explain.'' He grabs me by my arm but I pushes his hand away.

''Ew, don't touch me. Get lost Jeremy, we're over.'' But his grip only tighten which makes it harder for me to get away from him. I try smacking his chest but he won't budge.

''This is a mistake. She's nothing, you're everything to me.'' Jeremy smiles, trying to make my heart skip a beat but no, not anymore. That's not working because I feel disgusted by his touch.

''Look, asshole.'' I snap my fingers in front of him, ''That is exactly what I have been hearing for the past two years, can't you find a better punchline?'' Then with a kick on the groin, he let go of me before falling down on the ground. I smirk at him before looking at his co-worker who has been sitting at the same spot.

She avoided my eye at all cost so I just decided to let it slip. I walk out of his office, I feel lightheaded as if every problem has been settled. I breathe in, trying to find a source of happiness through this break up. This is what I wanted right? For the past two years, this is what I have been waiting for. Well, I had the chance to break up with him at the past but... I still loved him back then.

I realise how my love was a waste.

I pick up my phone as it keeps on ringing. Looking down at the caller ID, I roll my eyes knowing that Joanna is calling me, ''Yes, Joanna.'' I walk down the New York City street with people passing me. This has been my daily routine—walking to Jeremy's office every lunch hours so that we could have lunch together, looks like it's no longer included in my routine.

''I have news for you, Athena.'' She says from the other line.

''Oh, please reconsider if you are asking me to spy on Kim Kardashian because that's not going to happen again.'' I roll my eyes, ''We both know what happened before.'' I shiver at the thought of me being pushed to Kim's breasts, not only that but she wasn't wearing any bra at that moment so... let's just say I washed my face more than ten times but still feel disgusted.

Come on, she was sweating.

I hear her laughter from the other side, ''Good old times, Athena.''

''I swear if you were at my place, I would have clapped with joy.'' I say annoyingly, ''So what's the news, Joanna?''

''Do you perhaps know Alexander Herrera?''

Alexander Herrera, I thought to myself. ''No, who is he?''

''He's a footballer. He's from Spain but he was raised and educated in United States.'' She continues, ''There's something about him, something... odd.''

''Odd?'' I snort.

''Exactly, Athena.'' I hear something falling from the other line and I wouldn't bother asking because I know Joanna since she's my boss and she would end up breaking at least one glass a day, I don't even know, don't ask, ''Alexander has been single for the past three years. He's good looking, rich and he has done a few photo shoots to be at the front cover of the magazine but how come someone like him end up being single?''

I furrow my eyebrows, ''Maybe he has a few one night stands that you don't really know about.'' I mean, I work at Published—a publishing company and we tend to get different gossips from different celebrities everyday. Joanna seems to be satisfied with her occupation now. She has no problem with spreading other people's gossips, whether they are right or wrong.

''If he has a few one night stands, we would have found out about it.'' She groans lightly.

''Maybe... just maybe... he's gay.'' I throw my hands up in the air in justice, thinking that was probably the right thing to say. Why would she care about a footballer anyway? There are lot of other celebrities who have tons of gossips so why would she want 'the footballer'?

''No, he can't be.'' Joanna gasp in horror, ''He... can't be gay?''

''Joanna, how is this even a news for me?'' I arrive at Published and the receptionist smiles at me and I gladly return her smile before I head into the elevator.

''I thought you would want to volunteer and check him out for me.'' She says quite slow, I know whenever she does that voice, she needs my help.

I chuckle lightly, ''Not a chance. I'm not interested with some footballer.'' I walk out as I reach my floor, ''I'm here, by the way.''

''Good! We can discuss further, get to my office now.'' And with that she hung up. I stare at my phone before putting it down with my coat and my handbag. When I look beside my computer, I can see a photo of me and Jeremy hugging each other. We looked so happy back then. Well, looks like I was the one who's happy.

I take the photo before shredding it into pieces and throw it into the bin.

I get on my heels as I walk toward Joanna's office. I see her wearing her glasses as she stands up. Her eyes brighten at my sight. Joanna is ten years older than me. I turned twenty-four three months ago.

At least Jeremy gave me a Tiffany & Co necklace. I guess that will also be going to the bin.

''Where were we?'' She raises an eyebrow at me.

''About Alexander Herrera.'' I sit down in front of her, the Mahogany table separating us.

''Right.'' She adjusts her glasses, ''Are you interested in my offer, Athena?''

''No.'' I answer immediately, ''I'm not interested. What's so special about him anyway? He's just a footballer, Joanna. You never pay much attention to sporty people.''

''I found out that he has been quiet recently so we need to spread gossips, news!'' She claps her hand, ''But since... you're not really interested, I don't have the right to force you.''

''Now if you'll excuse me.'' I stand up, walking out of her office and heading back to my desk. I sit down with a loud sigh, I never thought that I would feel empty somehow.

Okay let me just be honest, I'm sad. I'm upset that Jeremy cheated on me. Three times. I kept on giving him the chance but he never appreciate me, not even once. I feel stupid. I knew better than to let him stay in my life.

I look down at my phone to see him calling me. The call ended and I can see that there's fifteen miss calls from him. I smirk unknowingly, this is all repeating again. The same old shit. He's going to keep calling until I pick up so that he could say he's sorry and that he would never do it again. Within a few months, he'll do it again.

I press the lock button to turn my phone off. I sigh once more before checking on the latest mails I have.

Work hours has definitely ended and everyone is walking out of the office. I look up to see people organising their files and papers before shutting down their computers. I look back down at my screen seeing that I am half way to finish my article. I save my article before shutting the computer.

''Athena, going home?'' I hear the familiar voice and I turn around to see Vivian.

''Yeah, not really going to stay up late today. How about you?'' I look down to see her holding a mug of coffee. A deep sigh came out from her mouth, ''Tough day?'' I add.

''Exactly. God, I feel awful.'' She takes a sip of her hot coffee.

''Not as awful as I am. Jeremy cheated on me.'' I pick up my handbag and my coat.

''Again?'' Vivian raises an eyebrow at me and I just shrug it off before walking toward the elevator.

Vivian and I have been close ever since I work here. Not the best friend material but we are friends. She's a great person. She has been there for me whenever I need her and she know a lot about Jeremy's schemes. That pathetic cheater.

I tie my hair up into a high bun before walking out of Published. The sky isn't exactly dark yet so I just look around to see people walking toward different directions. I stand there, for god knows how long.

I walk away toward the other direction from my apartment. My hand holding tightly onto my coat, in case I get cold, I have backup.

When someone hits me by the shoulder as he past by which cause my phone to drop on the ground. I turn to look at him. He just glance at me before walking away again. I stare at his back before groaning in frustration. I pick up my phone to find the screen cracking a little.

Well shit.

I keep on walking and walking until I find something that attracts my attention. A bar.

It isn't packed which is good. I take one last look and without me realising, I am already pushing the door and stepping inside. I sit near the counter, looking at the bartender. I put down my handbag and insert my phone inside. I leave my coat on my lap.

''Vodka.'' I mutter lightly and the bartender just nod at me.

......

Continue to read the chapter 1 of the novel Love Invalid Read more exciting novels on Bravonovel App

[hoodoo12]

¿Cómo ve con los ojos cerrados? (part two)

Some explanations. Some deeper background. Some bad language. You know the drill. Mature. 

As much as it pained him a little to do it, Rick begged Rick to explain. To please help him understand what the hell was going on.

The Rick who appeared in his room sighed and checked his watch. Then he sighed again and looked around for a chair. As he pulled one up closer to the bed, he said without hiding his annoyance,

“You’re l-lucky it’s been a little slow lately, asshole. I don’t have time to spoon feed-to coddle every R-rick who’s assigned to me.”

Rick tamped down his knee jerk reaction of meeting irritation with irritation and expressed his gratitude.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You gonna owe me a fifth of vodka,” Rick grumbled.

Then he launched into an explanation that made much less sense than Rick was hoping for. He wanted something simple: “This was a mistake,” or “You’re still under the influence of some heavy-duty drugs and this is all a madcap hallucination,” or even, “You’re dead, welcome to hell.”

What he got was an accurate, unnerving account of his life leading up to this point, told by someone in a disassociated voice, like it was boring and he couldn’t give two shits.

Occasionally, though, a nugget of information made no sense, and even though Rick tried not to interrupt because it made the other Rick sigh dramatically and threaten to leave him to his misery, he couldn’t help it.

“What do-do you mean, no Diane? Who is-who the fuck is Diane?”

“In this dimension, you never met Diane. Which means no B-beth, and subsequently, no M-m-morty,” Rick said in a voice that indicated he was sure he was dealing with the mentally handicapped. “That’s why you joined the Navy, and were able to stick with it so long—“

“I knew a Diane in college—” Rick recollected. In the far reaches of his memory, he saw her: blonde, freckles, kind of cute, laughing with her friends walking across the quad—

“Right, but you never hooked up with her-got with her, idiot! Jesus.”

Rick wondered but didn’t dwell on who the hell Beth and Morty were.

“No Diane,” the other Rick repeated, as if one final reiteration would cement it. “I don’t hear you bi-bitching about not understanding the goddamn Flesh Curtains, so dr-drop the goddamn Diane thing!”

Some of the words in that sentence made even less sense—what in the hell was “Flesh Curtains”?!—but his head was pounding so he didn’t even try to ask about it.

His twin paused, looked over the tops of his glasses to see if Rick had any further inane comments, then continued, ticking facts off with his fingers. “So you got your degrees. Joined the Navy. Got high scores in marksmanship—set a naval boot camp record, right? They had a hard time deciding whether to set you up in research and development—did you know that? Higher ups thought you’d be excellent in their experimental weaponry program, and they would’ve been right—or put you in the field.

“Eventually they figured they needed more grunts and they could always pull you into a desk job later. You pushed and they pushed back, and you pushed harder, and made it through SEAL training. You were good. Real good. Which is expected; Ricks fucking rock at what they put their minds to. But—“

He was cut off by a busty nurse entering the room. 

“Mr. Sanchez! I’m glad to see you’re awake! And you have a visitor . . .”

Rick wondered what her response would be, seeing someone who looked like his twin sitting here.

The other Rick stood up.

“I’m Ricardo,” he introduced himself. “Richard’s brother.”

“Oh! Nice to meet you. I just have to complete my rounds. Are you feeling okay, Mr. Sanchez? Do you think you’re up to eating anything today?”

She efficiently checked the bags hung on poles and verified his IV catheter sites weren’t infected. She told him the doctor would be in later, and there may be a bandage change on his head. She bent over, collected the bag full of urine slung below him on the bed and told him she’d empty it and be right back.

The other Rick watched her go. “I bet if your dick didn’t have a tube shoved up it, you’d wanna tap that.”

Rick fixed him with a dead stare. “And how exactly-how the fuck would you know that?”

“Because I sure would. Been awhile since I played out a nurse fantasy.”

Rick rolled his eye and was startled by how much it hurt.

“Is your name really Ricardo?”

“No, asshole!” Rick hissed back. “But I knew you’d been checked in under Richard! Even these idiots would get s-suspicious if I said I was your brother and we both had the same name. Christ. You think I’ve never done this shit before?”

Rick couldn’t snap a reply; the nurse bustled back in with an empty bag. They stayed quiet as she reattached it, set a cup of ice chips within easy reach on a table, and reminded him to take it slow, since he hadn’t had any solid foods for a bit. She also told them visiting hours were until six, and it was nice to meet you again, Ricardo.

Then she left.

“I’m gonna see when her shift ends,” Rick mused, half to himself.

Despite learning eye rolls resulted in pain, Rick did it again. “Just sit down and tell me the rest of this shit.”

Grousing all the while, but seemingly pleased he had a captive audience, Rick continued. Rick rested his head back on the pillow and let the recap of his life roll over him. When it got to the part about being dishonorably discharged again, though, he picked his head back up.

“Why the fuck would I be charged with murder? I was following orders!”

Rick shrugged unsympathetically. “Someone realized they made a-a mistake. Those orders weren’t supposed to be given. And they’re gonna need a scape goat, so guess what, Rick? Your neck is on the line. They’re gonna re-write your psyche profile as an off-kilter, dangerous man—it’ll cause an internal uproar, what with the idea a psycho could slip through the cracks and become a decorated SEAL, but that’s easier for them to deal with—with a grievous hate-on for the guy you shot. They’re gonna say you took your squad on an unofficial, unsanctioned mission, and they’re gonna hang you out to dry.

“Like I said, the only future you have here is sucking on the muzzle of your gun.”

Out of all the information given to him so far, this was the worst. He couldn’t care about “Diane” because he never knew “Diane”. He did care about his career and his reputation, because that was his life. He’d given everything to the Navy, and now they were going to shit on him? Rick closed his eye again and bit the inside of his lip to collect himself before saying very quietly,

“What about my men? They knew the order too. Are they going to be discharged?”

“Nope. They think you’re dead. Oh, did I forget to mention that juicy tidbit?” Rick said dispassionately. “Yeah. You’re already listed as deceased in the official records. Your squad thinks you didn’t make it out of surgery. Your discharge is post-mortem. Your ranks are gonna be stripped post-mortem. Your buddies? They’re going to be given a garbage bag full of unmarked cash to keep their mouths shut about the whole thing.”

Rick bit the inside of his lip harder at this, the harshest bit of news of all. The taste of blood spread over his tongue.

“So!” Rick said, clapping his hands together, like this had been a barrel of laughs. “Unlike the other fucknuts in this dimension, you have the opportunity to get the hell outta here! You haven’t even asked the big questions yet, Rick!”

“And what’re the big questions?” he mumbled back. His life was over. He truly didn’t care.

Rick leaned close again and grabbed his shoulder, too tightly. Pressed back against the pillow, Rick cracked open his eye again, and was met with an eerily familiar shit-eating grin. One that he’d given lots of other people, but never had the pleasure of experiencing on the receiving end.

“You haven’t asked about the Citadel, and you haven’t even had the balls to ask about your goddamn eye.”

tbc...

[omegaling]

Allez Cuisine! ~Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Malbec and Bucatini all’Amatriciana

Chapter warning: Rey has memories of when Plutt was a disgusting bastard to her when she was a minor.

Chapter Twelve: Malbec and Bucatini all’Amatriciana

In the end Rey decided to buy the wine.

It was a stupid thing to get her panties in a wad over, but in retrospect she supposed it was only a matter of time before her anxiety manifested in some form or fashion.  It certainly didn’t happen when she reported to her first shift after her meeting with Ren, where she churned out dozens of  croquetas de jamon and her   caldo gallego which was becoming exponentially popular as the weather got colder. When she discussed the nightly specials with Poe she did so without imagining him handing her her last paycheck.  When she and Finn started the new season of American Horror Story and debated what that year’s group Halloween costumes should be (Finn wanted Ghostbusters, Rey wanted the Crazy 88s from Kill Bill ) she did so without feeling sick with guilt.  Even when her phone’s calendar popped up with a reminder that her first lesson was on that upcoming Monday at five o’clock she felt remarkably calm.  In fact, had it not been for their string of emails she could almost believe that her whole correspondence with Kylo Ren took place inside her head.

It remained that way until she was halfway to his building and found herself standing in front of a corner liquor store in a strange sense of contemplation.  One of the last questions Rey asked Kylo was what she needed to bring for her first lesson.

“Only your knives,” Ren answered as he finished off his croissant.  A tiny piece of pastry clung to the corner of his lip, which he hastily brushed away with the pad of his thumb.  Rey realized she was staring and quickly averted her eyes. He must have noticed because the same corner quirked up the smallest of fractions, which reignited her blush anew.  “I’m a stoic believer that chefs should always use their own knives when they can.  Unknown blades leads to shoddy knifework more often than not.”

Rey was oddly perplexed by his answer.  “Are you sure?  I really don’t mind picking up some basic ingredients on my way over.”

Ren waved her offer away as though it was a bothersome fly.  “There’s no need for that.  I have everything we’ll need at my apartment.  I also don’t want you showing up with any preconceived notions of what we’ll be making.  I prefer teaching from the ground up.”

Rey spent the a good portion of that afternoon wondering what the home kitchen of a chef of Ren’s caliber was like.  It was not hard to imagine a pantry full of items like gold-seal balsamic vinegar, stacked jars of beluga caviar and virtually every spice known to mankind and a refrigerator stocked with prime wagyu ribeyes and tubs of creme fraise.  Surely he didn’t eat the same way he cooked at Vader and on   Iron Chef   at home, or he wouldn’t have his lean, athletic build (that she certainly had not  been admiring, thank you very much), but if he didn’t mind using his personal inventory who was she to argue?

Still, she felt strange going over to someone’s home empty handed.  She might have grown up poor, but she didn’t grow up without manners.  Bringing something to drink seemed simple and reasonable enough, but now as she stood before the store’s meager wine selection she felt her heart rate begin to increase and the palms of her hands grow slick with sweat.  At first she attributed it to stepping out of the chilly late afternoon air and into the overly warm store, but as her eyes roved over the rows of chardonnay, sauvignon blanc, zinfandels and cabernets, she was finally forced to acknowledge the feeling for the panic attack that it was.

Shit. Shit.  This was really happening.  She was less than half an hour away from being privately tutored by a chef with five stars and at least a dozen James Beard Foundation awards under his belt, not to mention the innumerable other awards and recognition from food critics, restaurant reviewers, and just about every form of printed media that covered every aspect of contemporary culture and the culinary scene.  And what was she?  A prep cook with two year’s experience and no prior education or background in the restaurant business who only got this far because of a lucky break, a sophisticated palate and the ability to learn quickly with asking minimum questions.

“Don’t even bother, kid,” Unkar Plutt grunted one day when he saw the stacks of college applications and brochures on the scarred kitchen table at his house.  Normally Rey was careful about keeping them hidden to avoid this exact type of confrontation, but Plutt was off work unexpectedly early that day, the reek of cheap alcohol already prevalent beneath the ever-present stench of diesel fuel and cooking grease.  “Those damn schools need to stop spoon-feeding you kids these delusions that a piece of paper that cost fifty grand only gets you jack shit and the system only exists to screw people over.  You want some quality advice?  Go out and get a job like the rest of us sorry fuckers.  Or if you’re looking for a real easy ride just have someone knock you up and collect welfare for the next eighteen years.  I’m sure even you can find someone desperate enough to help you with that.”

Rage had rose in Rey’s throat in acidic waves, but she made herself remain silent; she still had the bruises on her arm from the last time she backtalked him.  She loathed the tears that rolled down her face when she was in bed that night, but they helped temper her resolve and made her more determined than ever to prove him wrong.

It was exactly that brash line of thinking that put her where she was now.  Ren had challenged her and she had stepped up to it for no other reason than to defend her pride.  What if this time she was truly in over her head?  What if the only thing that came from all this was her becoming the butt of a joke between Ren and all his celebrity chef friends?

Rey turned over the bottle of malbec in her hands.  Alamos was a good wine - one of her favorites, in fact - but it would only cost her a whopping twelve dollars.  She was certain that Ren had a custom-made wine closet in his apartment full of the best wines France, Italy, and California had to offer.  Would he scoff at her attempt at being a decent houseguest? If that happened she already knew she’d flee from pure embarrassment and pray that she’d never have the misfortune of seeing him ever again.

The thought gave her pause.  A few weeks ago the Ren she thought she’s knew would have regarded anything she did with open contempt.  But now?  The image that she had previously build of him - which she admitted was largely based on the perceptions of others - was beginning to crack and fall away. The man she had met in the coffee shop who shared his croissant with her was not the same one that the other Village chefs jeered about over drinks, nor was he the force of nature on the set of Iron Chef America.

So now what she wanted to know was, which version of Kylo Ren was real, and how did it compare to the one she thought of at night?

Rey took the bottle of wine up to the cashier before she could change her mind.

Kylo Ren did not live in the gilded opulence of The Plaza, nor did he have a sweeping panoramic view of Central Park from 15 Park West.  With that being said, the Walker Tower was certainly nothing to sneeze at.  Built in 1929 by Ralph Thomas Walker in New York’s Chelsea neighborhood, the building embodied all the defining characteristics of art deco architecture: bold but aesthetically pleasing angles, handsome brick facade, and the geometric and organic ornamentation that the art style was so revered for.  The last of the wan September afternoon light reflected off the leaded glass panes that made up the front entrance, making it glow gold.  

The doorman attending the Tower’s entrance - a middle-aged gentleman with a steel-gray moustache - regarded Rey as she approached.  She could only imagine what he thought of her in her faded jeans and sweater that had seen one too many washes, her face partially obscured by a too-large scarf and ratty tote hanging off one shoulder.  It was especially hard to not feel self-conscious when he looked away from her to tip his hat to a businessman entering the building whose suit probably cost more than what she made in the month.

Several months, she amended with a touch of bitterness.

Rey could hear the echo of Plutt’s sneering voice in her head, taunting her that she was way out of her league.  Her hands tightened on the neck of the wine bottle, imagining it being his fat neck as she strode forward, her chin tilted up.  Per Ren’s instructions, Rey told the doorman her name and whom she was there to see.  She expected the same chilly reception she received at the First Order headquarters, but instead the doorman beamed at her, his blue eyes warming.

“I was wondering when you’d arrive, Miss Jakken.  Go right on up.  I’ll inform Mr. Ren that you are on your way.” He opened the door for her, bowing a bit as she crossed the threshold.

Stepping into the Walker Tower’s lobby was like taking a step back in time.  Black marble floors and pillars made the ivory-colored crown moulding and the panes of crystal-bright glass in their latticework of stainless steel practically glow in comparison.  Rey could easily imagine how this place must have looked like in its hayday, when women in elegant evening gowns and men in black tie finery passed through this very same lobby on their way out to the theater or to a prestigious party.

Maybe we can do 30s mobsters for Halloween, Rey thought idly as she stepped into one of the elevators.

Ren lived in the upper floors of the Tower, nearly twenty stories above 18th street.  After checking and re-checking his apartment number, she found herself standing outside his door.  Her heart was in her throat, but her feet remained blessedly planted to the ground.

Perhaps a little too much so.  Five minutes later, she was still standing there, her arm firmly pinned to her side.

Oh for pete’s sake, Jakken, just get it over with!   She finally brought her hand up to knock.

In the instant before Rey’s hand come in contact with the door it suddenly swung open.  Instead of rapping with enough force to be heard through the thick wood, Rey ended up punching Kylo Ren in the shoulder.  Hard.

She also discovered, at that exact moment, that there truly was no God, because if there was They would have been merciful and struck her down where she stood to save her from her own embarrassment.

Luckily, punching Kylo Ren was about as effective as punching a tree (her hand would attest to that the next morning); the only reaction she got from him was a cocked eyebrow.

“I know I don’t have the most admirable reputation, but I thought it’d at least be a little later in the evening before you started lashing out at me.”

Rey’s face burned with such intensity it was a wonder that her hair didn’t ignite.  “I… It’s not like I did it on purpose!  You’re the one who just...just opened the door without making sure someone wasn’t on the other side…!”

“Miss Jakken.”

The sound of him saying her name cut her off mid-ramble.  When she dared to look up at him, she saw that a corner of his mouth was quirked up ever so slightly.

“I was only joking.  Since I know it doesn’t take ten minutes to travel from the lobby to my front door I was starting to think you had some last-minute second thoughts.”

Ah.  She had no idea she was standing at his door for that  long before getting up the courage to finally knock.

“Nope, definitely not,” Rey said, perhaps a touch too fast.  “Not a single second thought in my head, or else I wouldn’t be here.”

A palpable silence stretched between them as they continued to stare at each other over the threshold of his apartment, growing increasingly awkward with each passing second.  Almost a full minute elapsed before Rey realized that Ren was just as much waiting for her to say something as she was for him.

“Won’t you come in?” he finally asked.

“Yes of course thank you,” Rey said all in the same breath, barely giving Ren the chance to get out of her way as she barreled past him and into his apartment.

So this is what twenty million gets you in New York City, Rey thought with a touch of bemusement as she stepped into Ren’s main living area.  Her and Finn’s entire apartment could have easily fit in Ren’s living room and kitchen, which felt even bigger by the line of floor-to-ceiling windows across two of the walls and its high ceiling. While Rey would have preferred an apartment that overlooked Central Park, Ren’s panoramic view of the New York skyscrapers already glittering in the purpling twilight was nothing short of breathtaking. His pension for black, white, and chrome-themed interior decoration evidently extended beyond Vader’s dining area, but in his home it came off as being much softer and not nearly as cold: the epitome of a high-end bachelor pad.  A handsome black leather sofas and loveseat set, separated by cut glass end tables, circled a modern gas fireplace made of steel and glass.  Gray rugs with modest geometric patterns covered the majority of the dark wood flooring, and a cursory glance at one of his three bookshelves showed Ren mostly read biographies and nonfiction of a wide variety of subjects.  There was no TV, but a buffet table set between two of the bookshelves boasted a top-of-the-line Bose speaker system and the largest collection of CDs Rey had ever seen outside of a record store.  It was all very classy, but it also felt very lonely.

Deciding that she had gawked at his home long enough, she turned toward the only reason why she was there: his kitchen.

Of course, Ren’s private kitchen was the most beautiful she had ever seen, with its dark wood cabinets, stainless steel appliances, and black granite countertops that sparkled with flecks of embedded quartz.  The only thing that suggested that it was no ordinary kitchen was the massive gas range stove and oven unit that dominated the far wall, every inch the same beast used in New York’s best restaurants.  

“Feel free to make yourself comfortable,” Ren said, every bit the formal host.  Then he said in a tone that was caught somewhere between a question and a statement, “You brought wine.”

Until that instant, Rey had completely forgotten about the wine.  Had she not, she might have tried to wrap it in her scarf as discreetly as possible and left it with her shoulder bag, but instead she had carelessly set it down in full view on the corner of his extended dining table.

“I did,” Rey said, once again fighting the urge to bolt.  “But only as a preemptive ‘thank you for the lessons and for letting me make a mess of your gorgeous kitchen.’  And I’m not technically going against your instructions of bringing anything except for my knives because this isn’t an ingredient, and if it is it’s only coincidence that I chose it.  And even though this malbec is popular at BB8 it’s nowhere near fancy enough to be a date wine, so it’s much better to share between acquaintances and coworkers and not necessarily as friends…”

Oh my god Rey, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking right now…!

She cleared her throat, which had become painfully dry during her mindless rambling.  The fine grain of the tabletop suddenly became the most interesting thing in the entire room, and Rey studied it with interest as she said, much more softly, “Besides, Alamos is from California. It’s not even true Argentinian malbec.”

“What difference does that make?  It you enjoy it, and it’s something you feel is worth sharing, then that’s all that should matter.”

It was the gentle chime of glass on wood that at last coaxed Rey to look back up when the unexpectedly gentle tone of Ren’s voice did not.  He stood a little ways down from her at the dining table with two large bellied wine glasses at his elbow and a corkscrew in one hand.  He wordlessly held out his other hand and Rey handed the wine over to him.

With expert precision, Ren cut off the foil covering the top of the bottle before shoving the twisted metal screw into the cork.  Rey didn’t even bother to hide how she watched how the muscles in his exposed arms corded as he worked the cork free, the fabric of his button-down shirt taught over his shoulders. She also noticed for the first time that the top two buttons of his shirt below the collar were undone, revealing a swatch of pale skin of his neck and chest.  Every other time she had seen him, whether it was over some fashion of media or in person, his clothing had been exceedingly modest, even to the point of being prudish: all long-sleeved and high-necked shirts and perfectly creased slacks. Seeing him now, with his sleeves partially rolled up and wearing dark, casual jeans, felt strangely intimate.

Rey scoffed at herself.   You’re reading way too much into this.  You’re only here to learn how to cook like a pro.  If it wasn’t for that, someone like Ren would never look twice at you.

The cork came free with a pop.  Ren poured the lush red wine into their glasses in equal portions, then offered one to Rey.  The rich bouquet of sun-ripened berries and heady oak tickled her nose as she raised the glass to her lips, savoring the way that the decadent, sweet liquid spread across her tongue.  It took a huge amount of willpower to not down the entire glass in one go.

“Technically…” Ren started, sounding as though he was measuring each word before speaking, “true malbec wine in determined by the grapes used, not by a specific region.  If that were the case, all malbecs outside of France would be frauds since that is where the grape first originated.  They never took well to France’s climate and were used primarily as blenders, but they thrive in Argentina and in California, which is where the majority of malbecs come from.”

“Oh,” Rey murmured into her wine glass.  “That’s... good to know.”

An awkward silence fell over the pair, the constant hum of the kitchen’s massive refrigerator suddenly aggravatingly loud.  Rey took another sip of wine, needing a few seconds to align her thoughts. Her first cooking lesson was going nothing like she imagined.  Ren may have shed most of his brusqueness since their very first encounter, but he did not let their conversations stray beyond the topic of food and preparation of it, which was something she had expected.  What she had  not   expected was not only standing around his dining room table, discussing the wine she bought on a whim, but doing so in a way that put her insecurities to rest.  It was becoming increasingly difficult to gauge what he would do or say next, and that was making her nervous.

“So,” Rey said, perhaps a bit too loudly, “What’s on the menu tonight?  Duck confit?  French onion soup?  Something stuffed with foie gras  and poached in butter?”

“I was actually thinking of starting in a different direction.  How do you feel about Italian food?”

“I love it,” Rey said, perking up.  “Mediterranean cuisine is one of my favorites.”

Ren topped off their wine and gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen.  Rey eagerly followed, feeling excited for the first time.

“Like most international cuisine, Americans have completely destroyed the idea of what authentic Italian food actually is.  The most popular variation - overcooked pasta slathered with red sauce - is nothing more than a bastardization of traditional bolognese sauce, which comes from the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, which is only one of twenty separate regions throughout the country.  Each region has its own food culture that it is fiercely proud of.  If Americans ever took the time to learn that, every Olive Garden restaurant in the country at large would close within a week.”

Ah, there’s the Kylo Ren I’m more familiar with.

Ren moved about the kitchen as he spoke, removing various ingredients and equipment they’d be using; medium-sized oblong plum tomatoes, a wedge of white cheese with a black rind, and a hefty slab of what looked like pork belly, but even more heavily streaked.  It was not until he took out a package of fresh pasta from the fridge that things finally clicked into place.

“You’re going to teach me how to make spaghetti?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Bucatini all’amatriciana, specifically,” Ren corrected.  “A specialty out of Rome.  If you want to learn what it takes to make good food, you need to first learn what makes food great.”

“Train long and study hard, you must,” Rey quipped in a raspy voice, then blushed when Ren cocked an eyebrow at her.  “Sorry.”

“As I was saying, food culture in each of Italy’s regions are heavily influenced by the ingredients produced there.  The northern regions such as Lombardy and the Aosta Valley prefer polenta and risotto to pasta and butter rather than olive oil.  Warmer climates in the south make crops like tomatoes, artichokes and eggplants plentiful.  Sicily is unique because its cuisine is an amalgamation of all the cultures that have conquered and otherwise occupied the island over the centuries and turning it into something all its own.”  As he spoke, Ren set to work prepping their ingredients for their own meal.  He wielded his knife - a beautiful eight-inch Miyabi blade - with the skill of a master swordsman; the tomatoes and the plump yellow onions on his cutting board weren’t so much sliced as they seemed to fall apart under his touch in perfectly proportioned segments.  “But they all have the same thing in common, as does every great culinary culture around the world does; they use what’s available to them, in the season when it’s available.  

“We are going to be cheating a little bit tonight; if we wanted to keep in spirit of the lesson, we would be making something far more appropriate for autumn, such as risotto with mushrooms and hazelnuts or pumpkin ravioli, but I feel that this dish will more accurately accentuate what I’m talking about.  As I said, amatriciana is specific to the Lozio region, where Rome is located.  The dish’s two main ingredients, guanciale and pecorino romano -” he respectively pointed to the meat and cheese with his knife - “originate from that area.  Today most places use pancetta and parmigiano reggiano in their place, but it’s important to always remember where something originates from, no matter how humble of a beginning that may feel like.  That, Miss Jakken, is the cornerstone of all cooking.  A chef who forgets that has lost his integrity.”

He paused, casting a glance at her out of the corner of his eye.  Rey felt her heart stutter.  He had given her that look once before, when he told the story of Hades escorting his bride to the underworld.  It was just as improbable to decipher it now as it was then, because surely Kylo Ren wasn’t, even on the most subtle level, flirting with her. She took another sip of her wine, fortifying herself before steering the conversation back to what she hoped was safer waters.

“You know you can call me Rey,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Again, that slight upturn of his mouth .  Shit .  What would she do if he ever smiled at her for real?

“If you insist… Rey.”

[katelynnsmusings]

Description: Lorna and Nicky with a baby out of prison Pairing: Nicky Nichols x Lorna Morello Requester:  anonymous Notes: could be considered a follow-up to this if you wanna see it that way, optional though  

“You did it. You really did it babe.” Nicky Nichols sits beside a bed, her arms supporting the head and rear of the tiniest human being she had ever laid eyes on. Hell, she didn’t know they could even get that tiny, yet here she was with one of them in her hands. How was she not supposed to break this thing? (Nicky Nichols and children, especially infants, had never been a combination she thought she would enjoy... ever. Somehow this was the exception.)

In the bed Lorna’s turned on her side to face the blonde and the baby, who already has a head full of hair as dark as hers. A sheen of sweat still covers her face, and her eyelids are half closed - half tired, half watching the love of her life hold their daughter with the kind of admiration that she didn’t think Nicky could give anyone but her. She was though, she is. Nicky found another person she’d kill for as soon as that baby was born, handed to her with the cord still attached. The cord she’d cut moments after when she handed the baby off to Lorna - what a fuckin’ scene that was. Never in her life had she thought she would be here until this became a part of her life.

She wouldn’t change it for anything though, she thought as the little girl’s tiny brown eyes fluttered open. She brought her pinky finger close to the baby’s face, where her little hand sat against her chest, and coaxed the baby, her daughter, in to grasping on to it. She smiled and then looked over to Lorna.

“We’re really doing this.” 

Lorna nodded. “We’re really doing this Nicky. And thank you for that. I dunno where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for you.”

“In a ditch somewhere, probably. Dead.” Nicky shrugs and then lets out a little laugh. Really though, they both knew that her presence had been what kept Lorna together throughout her pregnancy. Now, hopefully, she’d still be enough to keep her together - neither of them were exactly qualified to be decent parents.

“Funny, Nicky. Real funny.” Lorna deadpans and then closes her eyes, looking away from Nicky as she lets out a little laugh. She then puts her weight on to her arms so that she can adjust her position and sit up. She lets out a hiss of pain as the movement engaged exhausted muscles, and then she put on a little puppy dog face. “Can I see her?”

Nicky cocks an eyebrow. “You? Hold a baby? Sounds like a bad idea.” She’s joking and Lorna can tell but she just went through fifteen hours of labor and she’s not really feeling in the mood for Nicky’s brand of joking.

“Give me the baby.” Lorna’s dead serious and Nicky laughs as she hands the kid over to her other mother, incredibly careful. God, she was gonna break the kid before they even left the hospital - she was sure of that.

“So... what do you want to name her?” They hadn’t broke that topic yet, the litle girl was just a couple hours old. Sure, they’d talked names before but now... Well it was time to decide for real. Nicky had her preferences sure, but the hairy little snatch goblin had just come out of Lorna so now wasn’t a time where she was going to make any choices.

“You know, we talked about namin’ her after Red, ‘cause she was so good to us while we were in Litchfield.” Lorna looks like she’s in pure bliss, her eyes solely on her child as she talks to Nicky. “So I’d like to call her Maria Galina, I think. It’s good. And I know you don’t want me namin’ her Maria ‘cause you hate West Side Story but it’s such a nice name and she just looks like a Maria-”

“Okay.” Nicky cuts Lorna off before she can start rambling, letting out a small chuckle as she shifted her chair closer to the hospital bed. Her thumb stroked against Lorna’s scalp and all she could think that this was just... perfect. Somehow she’d found someone she’d be a mother for, love unconditionally, wake up every day next to - and by some miracle she’d actually gotten to have that opportunity.

It’s three in the morning when Maria’s screams wake the women from their bed, and Nicky lets out a groan as she uses her feet to rouse Lorna in to waking up and getting out of bed.

“It’s your turn this time,” she says, words slightly slurred by her half asleep haze. Lorna just groans back, pushing Nicky’s legs off of her. 

“No it’s yours, I changed her a couple hours ago.” Lorna very clearly doesn’t wake up but Nicky knows her daughter’s cries well enough to know that this time she’s hungry and, well, Lorna was the one who had what she wanted.

“She’s hungry, you have the boob juice, go feed her so I can sleep.” It’s so domestic and a year ago she never saw herself being here, but even through wake up calls at every hour she knew she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Well, in this moment she would be - asleep, rather than awake.

“Ugh.” Lorna pushes the covers off of herself and accidentally smacks Nicky in the face in the process, resulting in the blonde giving her girlfriend a light shove.

As soon as Maria stops crying, Nicky’s back out like a light.

“Hey Maria, mommy’s home!” As soon as the door closes behind her, Nicky can hear Lorna announcing to their three month old that she was back. All the stress she’d felt was instantly replaced, and she walked in to the living room after taking her shoes off to see Lorna topless on the couch with Maria held against her shoulder. She’s rocking slightly from side to side, soothing the child, and Nicky can’t help but grin.

“I know I was gone a long time, and I love that you’re ready for me, but we can’t really fuck with the baby right there, Lorna. She’s gonna have to go have a nap first.” Nicky grins and Lorna snubs her, smiling in the process.

“Haha very funny.” She looks exhausted and Nicky can only imagine. She loves her kid, she really does, but it’s exhausting trying to raise a kid and she has mad respect for the woman who’s spending all day every day raising the baby that she’ll one day get to raise in to... well, something much better than her, hopefully. “It’s just easier to keep the top off, she goes at em like twice an hour she hasn’t been latching well the last few days.”

Nicky gives her girl a sympathetic frown as she plops on to the couch beside her, and then she holds her hands out. Lorna adjusts Maria in her hands and the baby lets out a little whimper as she’s pulled away from her mama’s flesh, but as soon as she can see Nicky she begins to smile. That’s the latest milestone in her development and Nicky can’t help but grin when she sees her daughter’s little gummy grin.

Somehow she’d adjusted. She didn’t think she had it in her to be a mother but, well, the last three months had proven her wrong. She didn’t even feel like she’d break Maria as soon as she touched her any more. It was wonderful.

It was even more wonderful having Lorna as her co-parent.

Maria’s almost five months old when she finally meets her godmother and namesake, and Red’s pretty much ecstatic to hold the infant as soon as Nicky and Lorna come in to sight of the restaurant she’s trying to get off its feet. As soon as they’re in she locks the place up, luckily no one was around, and the afternoon is spent sitting at a windowsill table, passing Maria from woman to woman.

“My girls have their own girl!” Red’s grinning as she begins to cook something up for dinner. Maria’s feeding, the recently started incorporating bottles in addition to booby time, and Nicky’s got a hold of her. Just a couple weeks ago she’d got to feed her own daughter for the first time and she didn’t think she’d ever find such joy in something simple.

Dinner’s amazing. Red’s amazing. That day’s amazing.

They make a point to stop by Red’s place much more often after that.

“I’m going to scream if she doesn’t stop crying soon.” Lorna’s in tears as she walks in to the living room with a screaming seven month old. She’s bouncing gently in hopes of making the child calm down. “Nothing’s working, Nicky. I’ve tried everything. Bathed her, changed her, fed her - booby, bottle, spoon. She just won’t stop. It’s driving me crazy.”

Nicky’s been home a total of five minutes and work had been rough that day but immediately she gets up from where she was sitting and takes the baby out of Lorna’s hands.

“Go have a shower, babe. Or go for a walk. I’ll look after Maria, you go look after yourself.” She can tell Lorna’s beat, and she can tell that Lorna doesn’t want to just walk away from this, but at the same time the brunette’s eyes are filled with relief. She walks off towards the bathroom, and as soon as the water starts running Nicky has sat down on the couch with Maria. 

She offers her her favourite toy, a bottle, a pacifier. When nothing calms her she loads Maria in to the stroller and leaves the apartment, heading to the nearby park. She still doesn’t stop screaming. She can tell everyone around hates her right now, she’s given that “shut that baby up” look to more than one person in her life, but she can’t be assed to give a shit right now. Maria’s still crying half an hour later, and Nicky gives up. She loads the kid back in to the stroller and begins to go home.

Maria falls asleep three minutes in to the trek back and Nicky sighs, glad that she’d gotten the crying to stop some how. Now came the real test - trying to keep Maria asleep (or at least not screaming her head off) while she tried to get back in to the apartment.

Before they knew it, a year had came and gone and suddenly the tiny little human Nicky had admired such a short time ago was picking herself up off of the ground. Neither of them had gotten to witness these first steps and both of them hated that they’d missed out on such an important step - figuratively and literally.

The next time the little girl, who’s hair flew in chocolate brown wisps around her head now, took a step was on her birthday, though, and they both got to see it that time. Sitting on opposite sides of the living room, each with a gift in hand, Maria toddled from Lorna to Nicky, falling in to the blonde’s laugh. She caught her with a laugh and then grabbed her under the pits, raising her in to the air. Maria giggled as Nicky praised her, a wide grin on her face.

The first year was over, but it was the first of many - and they said the first was the hardest. Really, though, there’d been nothing hard about loving this little girl and her mother - from day one. Nicky had come this far and there was so much farther to go - and while she still worried, Nicky was sure that Maria was going to grow up with what she didn’t: a family that actually loved her. It was dysfunctional at times, so gay they couldn’t even drive straight, and maybe a bit of a mess, but it was their family, and there was nothing more important than that.

[submissiveharrylibrary]

Top 100 Long Larry Fanfics

My top favorite Larry fanfics in no particular order (all over 10k words).

making this made me realize i have had no life these past 5 years lmao. And by the way, there are PLENTY more I would love to add, it was actually hard choosing a hundred (wow, I’m a sad person) but just go to my favorites tag and I have probably a hundred more. 

We Will Be Remembered:  AU where everything is the same except Harry was born exactly a year earlier and it changed absolutely everything.

Come on, Jump Out At Me: the one where actor Louis Tomlinson and One Direction superstar Harry Styles try to fake a sex tape to help Harry get out of the closet and they both get more than they bargained for.

Three French Hems: In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

The Cloud of the Unknowing: Harry knows he’s dying. Louis doesn’t. 

It’s Been Awhile (Since I’ve felt butterflies): In which Louis works in an ice cream parlor and Harry is Gemma's cute little brother who starts working there, as well.

Let’s Talk About Making Love: Louis is just a simple phone sex line operator, but to Harry, he's Daddy.

Counting the Stars Behind the Clouds: The problem wasn’t that Harry was blind. The problem was Harry himself.or, in which Louis plays keyboard as part of touring singer Harry's back-up band, and spends his time stuck between being oblivious and in denial, while Harry just wants to know how many stars there are in the night sky.

Chances Under the Purple Sunrise: the one where Harry is a merman, prince of the Atlantic Ocean, whose curiosity and healthy envy takes over him and he steals Louis' shoes every time he fishes.

Faking it: A uni AU in which Louis has been Harry’s best friend since he offered him cubed fruit on the playground, and they spend more time cuddling in their dorm beds than they do apart, but it’s not like that. Or is it?

And I’ll Be Making History Like I Do: the one in which Louis is famous and more than a bit of an asshole and Harry remembers the little boy who looked kind of like a fairy auditioning for the X Factor all those years ago.

Nothing You Can Do (But You Can Learn How To Be You In Time): A Canon Compliant Semi-AU. Louis braids Harry’s hair. There are good times, bad times, fancy houses, supportive bandmates, secret boyfriends, small rebellions, bigger revolutions, some nail varnish, ribbons, cute clothing, and a Pinterest.

Give Me Truths:  Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

In Dreams:  AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

It’s oh So Still: Harry doesn’t say much but Louis makes him want to try.

Uniquely Perfect:  When Louis Tomlinson finds Harry Styles sitting in an alley, he doesn't at all expect Harry to be different... or different in a nonhuman way at least. Until his bestfriend Liam informs him that Harry is a hybrid. A cat hybrid to be exact. Will Louis keep Harry with him, or will he send Harry out on his own?

For Angels to Fly: Louis isn’t in love with a guy and Harry doesn’t need saving. Neither of these things end up being entirely true.

Shine:  Louis is an actor who needs to get away from the real world. He does the only thing that he can and runs away, finding himself in a small town where he happens upon Harry. What Louis doesn't expect is to somehow fall in love and end up having to face what he was running from all along.

everything i can arrange, every part of me you change: Harry needs a big spoon and Louis refuses to let anyone steal his position.

Tell Me I’m Pretty: Louis Tomlinson is a fire fighting hero to many in the town of Manchester and Harry is a pretty slut who feeds off of other's telling him of his charm that just can't seem make Louis admit he's attractive.

It’s All Brand New Because of You: Louis starts a new job as a summer camp counselor at the local aquarium and Harry is a biologist who really likes teaching people about the ocean.

Thank the Moon for our Spotlight: A camp fic where Harry isn’t expecting to enjoy himself, and Louis just wants to have fun, and Harry’s a bit too shy and Louis’ a bit too comfortable, but somehow it works, anyway.

Walking Between the Raindrops: Harry Styles is a fan of One Direction, like not a massive one but they're cool. He doesn't go to their concerts, but he buys their CDs and it'd be cool to meet them. What he doesn't expect is actually meeting them and it just so happens he has a crush on, Louis Tomlinson.

Hush: an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

Hate Me To The Moon: AU where Harry is a sexy nerd, Louis is a great actor, and they both pretend to hate each other's guts to convince themselves they're not feeling things future step-brothers shouldn't feel.

The Glass House: It wasn’t stalking. It wasn’t an obsession. It wasn’t anything. It was just — observing from a distance. At least that’s what seventeen-year-old Louis Tomlinson told himself when he got new neighbors across the street.

With Nothing But Your T-Shirt On: Harry is a camboy and Louis has been an avid subscriber for a while before he finds out they attend the same university

Sick: AU where Harry is sick with a lot of different things and Louis is the only one who can make him feel better.

When I’m Lost I Feel so Very Found: the one where Harry is an average university student who winds up pregnant with rising actor Louis Tomlinson's child

Kiss From a Rose: Louis’s in a rock band called No Control, Harry’s a pregnant model suffering from a broken heart. They've both got meddling friends.

Fake You’re Full and Feel Tomorrow: Louis is a high class prostitute and the best at what he does. Harry is a hard to please 17 year old who wants to give himself completely to another man.

Anklebiters: It was Louis' senior year when his life changed drastically - beginning with the pretty intersex boy, Harry.

Let’s Embrace the Point of No Return: Harry is an omega intern at an all alpha company. Louis is his boss. There's some complications.

iHeart You: The lads have a few days off before their performance at the iHeart Radio Music Festival. They're set to be in the studio recording their new album on those days. When Harry hears Louis talking to Eleanor, telling her he's bought her plane ticket so she can come out Harry decides he doesn't want to see her or have her anywhere near. He's sick of her. So he goes to management and for once in their lives they agree with him. They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... but maybe not this time...

Haven: "I take it you’re not a new student?” “What?” Harry mumbles, caught up in the way his eyes are quite literally sparkling in the light. “Oh—No. Not a student.” “Are you a sub?” Louis asks. Harry clenches his hands into fists, holding them behind his back as he stumbles a bit. “I don’t, uh—I mean. I’ve never really gotten a chance to be a true sub, you know? My ex-partners were always scared they’d hurt me. But, like—If I trusted someone a lot, and if we used a, a safeword. And talked about, you know, boundaries, then—Yes, yeah, I-I’m a sub.” Louis’ eyes are so wide, his cheeks puffing out in the effort to not burst into laughter. “Oh shit, oh my god,” Harry whispers. “You meant—Oh god."

Sass the Week:  Louis is the host of popular TV comedy ‘Sass the Week’ and Liam and Zayn are the team leaders. It just so happens this week Louis’ got the privilege of working along side his crush Harry Styles popstar who’s on the show as one of the guests.

The Best Laid Plans: When solo artist Harry Styles publicly admits to having a crush on One Direction member Louis Tomlinson, the band makes a plan: Use Harry’s fame to get back into business.

So Darling, Just Say You’ll Stay Right by My Side: AU where Louis is the chief of police in a small sea-side town and Harry is his new deputy who's a bit of a pacifist and a lot wonderful.

If You Wanna Try Me On: the Devil Wears Prada AU that no one wanted. Sort of.

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace: the one where Harry crashes Louis’ wedding.

This Ain't Just a Thing That You Give Up:  The one where Harry is a baker in addition to being a college student who just happens to meet the crazy famous Louis Tomlinson while on spring break. Featuring personal assistant!niall, roommate and best friend!liam, and costar/model!zayn.

After Hours: Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are the bane of each other's existences. Unfortunately, they're already in love--even if they aren't completely aware of this minor detail.

Hot Chocolate: Harry's just a little boy selling hot chocolate.Louis doesn't really like hot chocolate, but he does appreciate a good businessman(especially cute, baby-faced ones).

Like to keep You Laughing: the one where Louis is a frat boy who likes to hook up and Harry is someone who doesn't hook up ever.

Feel Your Presence (in your absence): Very simply, a fallout occurs in its most painful form and Harry takes on the world with empty hands and half a lasting heart.

From Eight Until Late I Think About You: Involves a bunch of YouTube challenges (AKA excuses for Harry to get naked), some awkward snapchat mishaps, and a whole lot of pining.

now i need someone to breathe me back to life: the one where Louis is a nurse and a midwife, and Harry is so clumsy he just happens to fall into Louis' life and turn everything upside down in the best way possible.

If Tomorrow Never Comes (We Had Last Night): "Accidentally called your number while drunk asking for a ride and you actually came au"

We’re Having a Baby, My Baby and Me: the one where Harry really wants a baby.

Once in a Lifetime: Louis doesn't kill innocent people. He kills the unwanted criminals, outcasts, and poor beggars who won't be missed. After more than two hundred years of vampiric life, he doesn't feel guilt or regret anymore. But then he meets his next victim: a young, green-eyed stripper named Harry.

We Were Made to Love: Harry drives a kiddie train in the shopping centre for the summer and is obsessed with babies, and Louis never stood a chance.

To Be the Friction in Your Jeans: Harry is an exhibitionist. He gets up to shenanigans.

The Moment Where My Good Times Start to Fade: Where Harry is a flower child who works in a bakery and Louis is a guitarist who has no idea what it is he wants.

Weaker Without You: Louis and Harry have superpowers but that doesn't really define their lives. What does is meeting each other, and school and prom and life and bullies. But they get through that together because they're harryandlouis and they were meant to be, right from the start.

Away with the Fairies:  Harry liked pretty things.

Home:  Harry is a 10-year-old with bright green eyes and Louis is a 12-year-old with a football fascination. They become instant friends from the moment they meet. Through complications, fears and cuddles they learn and grow - in age and maturity.

Cookies, Notes and Blokes: The one where Harry blushes a lot and likes to bake, Louis may be the hottest delivery guy ever, and the written word is the chosen medium.

It’s Like I Breathe You: the one where louis volunteers to teach high school students about the ropes of business and running a company of your own, but he certainly does not plan on running into harry styles.

Paint Me a Story:  In which a mute college student, whom Mr. Tomlinson dubs as bandanna boy, lets his words speak through art.  

we'll play hide and seek to turn this around (give me love like never before): an au where harry paints his nails and drinks strawberry milk and is too nervous for it to be nothing and louis' just trying to figure out whats wrong with him

I’d Give Up Forever to Touch You: just your typical xfactor fic with a bit of a twist

Smile in Slow Motion: “It’s 2011, Niall. People can fuck their friends’ faces without it meaning anything more than that.” or, Louis is Harry's dom and maybe also his soulmate.

Red Freesias:  Louis is a famous stage actor that is falling deeply for his new stylist Harry. Zayn's an artist, but to Liam he's the Greek god of beauty, and Niall seems to be making songs out of this all.

Never Gonna Dance Again: Louis is a spy and Harry is a dancer. The only real thing they know is each other.

Half a Heart:  Eight years ago Harry Styles gave birth to a beautiful baby girl named Scarlet Marie. Now, at the age of 26, he doesn't expect to run into the only man he ever loved. The man that left him when he needed him most. Eight years ago Louis Tomlinson made the biggest mistake of his life. Now, at the age of 27, that same mistake just got a whole lot bigger.

O Christmas tree! O Christmas tree! (thy candles shine so brightly): AU where Louis needs a Christmas tree and Harry just so happens to work at a Christmas tree farm.

Everywhere (I wanna be with you):  Harry and Louis meet because they have terrible friends, they fall in love because something feels right in a world of uncertainty and shifting grounds. Louis is an actor and Harry is a model at the top of his game, the best things in life are the most unexpected ones and the things that hit you when you are least expecting it.

Sightless:  Harry has been blind ever since birth - he can't see the world, and the world doesn't care about seeing him. His life gets flipped upside down when a twenty one year old man with an ever-lasting smile stumbles into his life.

Maybe I’m a Liar: Harry is different, Louis is in love, and Niall seems to know everything.

Wanna Taste Your Heart, Don’t Interfere:  Harry presents as an omega, Louis is his alpha best friend, and there are hidden feelings that just get harder to control.

Your Flaws Upon Your Sleeves: Basically the au where Harry hides in strange places to hide his boners and Louis makes a lot of horrible assumptions. Niall gets high a lot, Zayn doesn't have as much wisdom as he thinks he does, and Liam feels like a badass in a police uniform usually. Featuring very few surprise guests.

Hideaway: Harry is in a borderline abusive relationship which ends after the news that Harry's pregnant. He is homeless for the night and travels 3 hours on the train to turn up at his best friend's Liam's house unexpectedly for somewhere to stay. He meets Louis, Liam's flatmate, and they discover that they have more in common that anyone would expect. They fall in love.

I’m Fearless with my Heart:  The one where a young Louis is naive and fearless with his heart when he meets a very married Harry. He possibly doesn't stand a chance.

Teacher’s Pet:  It was supposed to be a quick and easy gig: Teacher’s Assistant. All Louis had to do was spend a few months assigning reading and grading reports, and then he could continue his wayward life. He wasn’t supposed to get attached, especially not to one of his students. 

Falling for Your Hallelujah: In which Louis works in a cafe, Harry has no home, and it's freezing cold but no one cares

I Love You More: Boys like Harry can't fall in love. But then he meets Louis. A love story in two parts. (prostitute!harry)

Here Comes the Sun: Harry is a pediatric specialist, Louis is a neurosurgeon. All they want is a baby.

I’ll Make this Feel Like Home: the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.

I Sleep Naked: "you're so small." as if to prove his point, louis squeezed harry tightly in his arms, and harry just scrunched up a little bit, snuggling his head impossibly farther into louis' chest. "my pretty paper doll."and when louis squeezed him again, placing a shaky, yet warm kiss on harry's cold forehead, harry felt his heart feel that way again, he felt love. a soft flutter, that even the most self control in the world couldn't stop. he loved louis. he loved him even though he didn't want to, he really didn't.okay, maybe a little.

All These Lights: the canon fic where Harry is an omega and dreams come with a price.

As You Are: AU. Five years after The X Factor launched his career as a radio host and songwriter, Louis Tomlinson returns as a judge. Falling for a contestant is the last thing he needs. It's also against his contract.

the whole world, it is sleeping (but my world is you): Louis never really knew commitment, never really knew love, until Harry. (canon fic but Harry is blind)

I’ll Be Waiting on Forever: A Romeo and Juliet AU where Louis is an alpha prince who falls in love with Harry, an omega prince from the neighboring kingdom

With Your Love we Could Breathe Under Water: AU where Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a human, and they both discover a lot more than they anticipated.

you can wrap your fingers round my thumb and hold me tight: Harry and Louis feel like their family is complete. Mixed feelings when they find out Harry's pregnant again, six years after their youngest was born.

Baby, What a Surprise:  the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

The Sweet Devotion: Harry loved Louis at 18 when he couldn’t afford to take him on a date, at 21 when he spent all his time trying to make it and now he adores every part of him as he professionally lives his dream every single day. And he will love him no matter how long trying for a baby will take them and every day after.

Blue eyes like Blue Skies: Harry's last relationship was horrific, leaving him with physical and mental scars. Louis comes into his life and does his best to treat Harry how he deserves.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder: Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.

Never Knew I Needed: Louis Tomlinson didn't need anybody. If he didn't need anybody, then he didn't have to care for anybody in return. And that's just how he liked it. He had three close friends, and that's all he'd allow. Until Harry Styles came along and ruined everything.

Why Don’t We Go There?: Louis sends a text message to a wrong number by accident. They keep texting each other from there.

Drain the Whole Sea:  When Harry finds an unusual yet promising opportunity that could possibly get him somewhere and help him further his current failure of a writing career, he doesn’t hesitate to take it. Despite his boyfriend Sam’s pleading, he lets this dream bring him to the luxurious yet quaint home of world-renowned, best-selling author Louis Tomlinson.

Your Bruised Lips: Harry is a prostitute but not by choice. Louis wants to heal him whilst trying to ignore the feeling in his chest when he looks at him. Zayn is exasperated with everyone. And Niam just don't like violence- well, Liam doesn't. That Irish bastard is always up for a good fight. (It says incomplete and i doubt it’s going to be updated, but the last chapter can basically be an ending)

One Night Stands: Harry was always great at making decisions; he never did anything too risky and he never really did anything stupid. He played by all the rules, which led to him living a quiet life. However, one night when he decides to go out with a few friends and have some drinks and randomly hooks up with a man, his specifically planned out life goes to shit.

Make Tea, Not War: Louis attempts to become a better flatmate, much to Harry's dismay.

I’d Burn this City Down to Show You the Light: Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

Lights Will Guide You Home: Louis Tomlinson is his school’s resident bad boy and easily the most liked person there. Harry Styles is more or less invisible at the same school (unless he’s being harassed). So, of course, it’s inevitable that they fall for each other.

Behind My Eyelids Are islands of Violence: Harry has epilepsy. No matter what time it is or where he's to be located, Louis will always come running.

I Need Home (Our Tangled Bones):  the kid fic where Louis wants to make Harry a star, Zayn just needs everyone to stop being stupid, Niall laughs his arse off at everything, Liam attempts to keep things in order and Harry takes a chance.

Breathe Into Me and Make Me Real: Harry's fading away, bit by bit everyday, and all he can feel is numb. He finds Louis, who's like sunshine, bright and glowing, and smells like red velvet cupcakes and whipped cream.

Deep in my Heart I Know There’s Only You: harry and louis are best friends who engage in some platonic baby-making. very platonic.

And now here’s my self-advertising. Here are MY stories that I think are decent, if you want more:

there's a love and it grows (there's a life that we share): where Harry and Louis are strangers (not really) who had a one night stand at a party and end up having a baby together.

Gym Teacher: When Louis was offered a job as a temporary substitute gym teacher, he really didn't expect to fall for an annoying, rude and irritating 16 year old kid named Harry Styles.

It Started With Romeo: Harry is a sweet boy in a new town with a pregnant cat, secret kinks, a hatred for his rude neighbor and a stubborn attitude that leads him to a lot of drama. or the one where Louis' cat gets Harry's cat pregnant and there's some daddy kink in there.

Nudes: where Harry meets a very strange man on kik who likes to send nudes and way too many emojis, but he somehow doesn't end up blocking him.

The Boy Who Cried Suicide: Where Louis is in school and acts depressed to get attention, but then when he really is, no one believes him.

A Little Love: where Harry gets heartbroken, so Louis tries showing him love, but a bump is in the road. Literally.

Emerald Eyes: Louis is an on-the-run killer and when he goes after his next victim, things take a change. Because, Harry has sad emerald green eyes and didn't flinch nor seem at all scared of Louis. This causes Louis kidnap him instead of kill him.

Little Rendezvous: Where Harry and Louis are both innocent best friends and learn about sex together.

Hashtag Manslut: Where Louis is sick of his slutty roommate bringing strangers in their dorm and tries to pull a prank, but then see's cuts on his wrists. And, maybe not everyone is who they make themselves out to be.