#this is from years ago but my friends roasted my ass when I showed them the visual mess that was my screen

[vounoura]

in case you thought I was kidding.

[mangoshorthand]

A Hargreeves Christmas Carol | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader | Ch. 1

SUMMARY: Luther is the sort of idiot who goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, he should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. Who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, the man who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present, and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand? Info/Announcement Post

Chapter One (Rated G-T, 3.4k words)

Marley's Ghost

Luther was annoying to begin with, there was no doubt whatsoever about that. Despite this, you developed a grudging friendship with him over the years, based mainly on the fact he was impossible to spurn. 

He was a regular in your little bar, and his good moods were completely unflappable. No matter how surly and taciturn you might be with him on a bad day, he always greeted you like his best friend the next time you saw him. In this fashion, his company became gradually bearable to you over the years you knew him, and you learned to welcome his bright-eyed, towering figure with no bad grace.

“Hey!” he said, cheerfully, as he bounced through the door early on Christmas Eve, bringing with him a blast of cold air from the slush-filled streets outside. 

You looked up at him and nodded, suppressing a roll of your eyes at his appearance. He was wearing a luxuriant velvet Santa hat and an obnoxious Christmas sweater depicting gingerbread houses, elves, and snowflakes in lurid colors particularly offensive to the eye.

Long ago, you’d concluded that the holidays were for idiots, and, although you liked him, Luther more than qualified. 

Yes, you’d decorated the bar, but as sparsely as it was possible to get away with: few coloured lights here and there and some limp tinsel around the window frames, but that was it. When your employee Robbie tried timidly to introduce a Christmas tree, that bullshit was in the dumpster out back before a half hour had passed.

“Merry Christmas,” Luther said, beaming, “happy holidays, and happy New Year!”

“Merry Christmas, Luther.” Robbie replied, looking up from serving another customer to give him a wave, which Luther returned gleefully. 

“Enough with that bullshit already,” you grumbled, filling him a glass of his usual beer/

“Christmas?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief, “Bullshit? Surely you don’t mean that?”

“Sure I do,” you said, setting his beer down on the bar in front of him and holding out your hand expectantly, “I don’t see what’s particularly ‘merry’ about it. It’s just some commercialised holiday. Idiots going into debt just to buy their kid the latest trash.”

Luther frowned and pulled out a bill.

“I don’t see why it shouldn’t be merry.” he said, though sounding a little disquieted, “You own this place, right? You must see people coming in to celebrate all the time. That sort of happiness is infectious. It must at least make you happy to see other people happy?”

You just scoffed and turned away, busying yourself about the bar taps. 

“Come on,” Luther called after you, in a conciliatory tone, “are you annoyed with me?”

You were, but when you turned back to him, you tried to keep your tone light. 

“Do you have any idea how shit it is working a bar at Christmas? The only thing that makes it worth it is the extra money. People make a mess, they make a lot of noise, they get drunk and they sing. They fuck you up the ass with a candy cane, shove a holly jolly dick in your mouth and expect you to just smile through it.”

There was a moment of silence while Luther absorbed this colorful language, and then he spoke again. 

“I guess you got a point. Customer service at Christmas has gotta be hard. But the day itself is fun, right? It’s a time for family. It’s a time to show people that you care about them”

You let out a loud “pfft.”

“If I’m anywhere on Christmas day, it’s as far away from my family as it’s possible to be. I’ll be at home alone, thank god.”

Luther looked at you, and you found yourself even more irritated by the expression of sympathy in his blue eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, genuinely, “everyone should be with someone they care about on Christmas, even if they don’t celebrate.”

You let out another sound of derision, and Luther looked briefly down at the bar.

“Christmas can make people kinder,” he said, quietly, “and I know they should be kind all year round, but it reminds people to be more open hearted. Peace and goodwill to all men, y'know? And so, yeah, Christmas is commercialised and stuff, but it’s a reminder to love one another and appreciate the people around us. And in this world, I think that’s important.”

As he gave this speech, his voice became more confident, and by the end he was sitting up straighter on his bar stool, looking at you with earnestness that did nothing to improve your mood. 

“Well said Luther,” piped up Robbie, enthusiastically, giving him a little round of applause. 

You shot him a look, and he quickly stopped and went back to cleaning the bar. 

“Bullshit,” you said again, dismissing his sickly speech.

But Luther was undeterred.

“Listen,” he continued, gently, “I’m spending Christmas with my family. It’s low key, and we all bring guests. I’m cooking, and there’s enough to feed twenty. The way I see it, the more the merrier.”

Your nostrils flared. Was he really doing what you thought he was doing?

“I like you,” he said, “you remind me of Five. You remember Five, right?”

You nodded tightly. You more than remembered Five. Over the years he visited the bar with Luther and occasionally alone. You had to admit you found him…intriguing. You’d decided some time ago that you were done with men, but that didn’t mean you didn’t occasionally stop to enjoy the view. 

You and he shared the same cynical sense of humor, and though he wasn’t exactly friendly, he was polite, tipped well, flirted like a pro, and was easy enough on the eye that his occasional acerbic comments were interesting rather than irritating. 

“Five’s a grumpy asshole too,” Luther continued, “but he and I both know what it’s like to be alone. It can break you, and I don’t want to see that happen to you. Why don’t you drop in on us tomorrow?”

He paused here, smiling winningly and giving you time to answer. He looked so much like a gleeful puppy that you half expected him to let his tongue loll out and start panting with excitement. 

But your just-restrained anger had broken its bounds; your face felt flushed, and his canine expression did nothing but prod the angry hound inside of you, raising your hackles.

“Come over,” he said, cajolingly, a hopeful expression starting on his face, “We won’t sing until we get really drunk, and I promise nobody will threaten to sodomise you with a candy cane.” 

He paused and then amended his last statement:

“I can almost promise you nobody will threaten to sodomise you with a candy cane. But come anyway.”

Your lips tightened. You weren’t some charity case. When you finally got the words out, you spoke with low, dangerous emphasis. 

“I think I’d rather see you in hell than see you for Christmas.”

Luther looked hurt, but you didn’t care. Who was he to come into your bar, and lecture you about family and kindness and all that sentimental bullshit. He had no idea. You felt your fists clenching at your sides, and when you continued, your shaking voice got louder with every word:

“What makes you think I want to spend time with you and your weird-ass family?”

“I was just trying to be a friend to you.” Luther said, crestfallen.

“I don’t need friends!” you cried, furious now, “You seriously have to grow up, Luther. Grown-ups don’t believe in Santa Claus, and grown-ups don’t think one day playing nice around a Christmas tree means jack shit. So why not keep all your Christmas shit to yourself and mind your own goddamn business?”

Luther blinked, cut to the quick, and you began to polish the bar in a determined sort of way. 

“Why are you pushing me away?” he asked.

You didn’t answer, so Luther stood, leaving half his beer on the bar.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” he said, wounded, but dignified, “I can see now that Christmas doesn’t mean to you what it means to me. But still, I hope you have a good day, whether you celebrate or not.”

You didn’t answer him, pretending to be intent on your work, and his hulking figure retreated, leaving the bar with a quick, sad wave to Robbie. 

You ignored Robbie’s reproachful looks and continued about your business, counting down the hours to closing time when you could get home and get away from all the idiot revellers. 

Meanwhile, the snow thickened outside, and the sky darkened rapidly. It was already a cold day, with thick, portentous clouds, but the evening was bitter, and the night even more so; harsh and biting. 

The Christmas eve party goers were wrapped in layers upon layers of clothing, but even the most stout of them thinned out as the night wore on, scared off by the wind and snowstorm, no doubt fearful of getting stranded in the city if the bad weather persisted.

By the time you closed up, there was nobody there to throw out. All was quiet and still but for the wilting tinsel shifting minutely in the tiny draft at the window frame. The bar was deserted - as dead as a doornail, you might say.

Robbie left as soon as you gave him the nod, head bowed, holding onto his scarf for dear life as it whirled and bucked in the wind that threatened at every moment to tear it from his neck. 

When the door blew closed behind him with an abrupt, wall-shaking slam, you were totally alone. 

The bar was part of an old city block, and thus odd noises were audible in your apartment above at the best of times. As bad as the weather was that night, you could hear strange grindings and creakings as soon as you mounted the stairs. 

The back of your neck prickled, warning you of who knew what, even as you told yourself firmly not to be so ridiculous. 

You shivered, wishing very much that you’d gotten around to changing the light bulb in the windowless stairwell, meaning that you were in full dark as you made your way haltingly up the stairs. 

The stairs were old too: wooden, uneven and whining in protest with every step. Though you weren’t usually one for superstition or hyperbole, your mind couldn’t help but dwell upon the sounds: they sounded increasingly like the wails of desperate, neglected children as you progressed higher and higher towards the top landing. 

At that moment, with your hand at last on the doorknob, there was a strange frisson in the air, something that was half sound and half sensation. 

And your blood ran cold.

This sound was unlike any that could be the result of bad weather on an old building. It was a zap and a crack, and it made all the hairs on your arms stand on end, like the few seconds of eerie anticipation before a lightning strike. 

You froze, suddenly wary of what might be inside. Very slowly, you pressed your ear to the door and listened, yet heard nothing but the wind’s ambient noise.

“Pull yourself together,” you chided yourself under your breath. 

You unlocked and opened the door quietly and hurriedly, not daring to flick on lights in case it alerted an intruder to your presence. Indeed, you found the living space within quiet and empty to the eye, lit slightly by the street lamps outside.

You even checked behind the door, just to reassure yourself that there was nobody lurking behind it.There was nobody there, of course: no sound but for the rushing wind whistling down the street, and no sign that anything might be amiss. 

No sign but that creeping sensation on the back of your neck, of course. 

You sighed, frustrated with your own silliness. 

Still, unable to shake that feeling, you carefully, soundlessly picked up the baseball bat you kept behind your coat stand and crept from living room, to bathroom, to bedroom, just to prove to yourself that you were just being foolish. You even looked behind the couch, behind the shower curtain and under the bed, just for good measure. 

At one point, you gave a violent start at what sounded like an electric whoosh as you stood in front of the wardrobe, but when you opened the door with the bat raised, there was nothing inside that shouldn’t be there.

But there was a smell, you thought. A whiff of something vaguely familiar, and then it was gone. The smell of mint or eucalyptus lingering in the air. 

Again, there was that creeping sensation at the back of your neck, flesh needling, as if you were being…

As if you were being watched.

You whirled around, but again the room and doorway were perfectly empty, and no sound suggested the presence of anybody but yourself and the ceaseless wind outside. 

“It’s nothing but the smell of bullshit,” you muttered to yourself, dismissively. 

When you were finally satisfied that your apartment was indeed quiet and still, you double locked the front door, even putting it on the chain, a precaution you didn’t usually take.

Slightly comforted by this, you moved into the living room to unwind before bed, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV, reaching likewise to turn on a lamp beside you. 

And then, in the glow from the TV, you saw him.

As large as life, there was a man sitting in the darkest corner of your living room. 

He was well dressed, wearing a three piece suit and a grim expression. But for his very solid appearance, you might have believed he was a ghost, lit as he was in an unearthly hue by the TV’s blue light, throwing his face into a strange distortion of light and shadow. 

You opened your mouth to scream, but before sound could come out, he vanished and reappeared above you, clapping one hand over your mouth with one hand and grabbing your wrists with the other, looking down at you from beneath heavy brows, his strong jaw working with the effort of keeping your flailing hands contained. 

It was then that you recognised him. 

“Fiph?” you cried, muffled from behind his hand, “whadafu?”

It was Five himself. 

He raised his eyebrows, handsome jaw angled upwards. It was an unspoken question: can you be quiet?”

You nodded, and he took his hand away from your mouth. 

“What the fuck, Five?”

And there it was: a waft of mint and eucalyptus that at once explained why it smelled familiar, as well as the noise from your wardrobe. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you shrieked, panicked again, and he quickly clamped his hand back over your mouth.

“I’m here to talk. Keep your goddamn voice down and turn on that lamp. I can’t see for shit.”

Your whole arm trembling, you turned on the lamp beside you, and Five’s face was lit in a more natural glow.

As always when confronted with Five, you couldn’t help but notice his appearance: his clear, smooth skin; his noble, expressive brow; his intelligent green eyes, shaded by hair and reflecting the lamplight. His long fingers were hooked around your jaw, and you could feel the warmth of his palm against your lips. 

It was this that made you stop trembling.

Sensing this, he removed his hand again, and when you didn’t scream, he sat down on the other end of the couch. Before he settled, he reached back to the armchair he’d just vacated to pull a briefcase across the carpet so that it rested against his feet. 

“What do you want with me?” you asked, half anger, half fear.

“Much,” Five said, simply. 

You stared at him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other, surveying you with those eyes, holding yours with quiet authority. 

“You might say I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” he said, “You’ve fucked up.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, half angry, half afraid.

“Well,” he said, settling his hands on his top leg, “I never told you this, but I work for an organization that handles the timeline, and its raison d'être is to make sure that everything happens as it’s supposed to. That’s why I have this briefcase,” he said, tapping it with his foot, “it allows me to travel back and forth in time, and fix fuck ups like yours. 

“I thought you could already travel in time,” you said, “isn’t that, like, your whole thing?”

There was a flicker of annoyance on his face then, and you were glad to see it: it was evidence that you’d pricked his ego, and it was enough to make him seem a little less intimidating.

“I do have natural time travel ability,” he said, carefully, struggling to maintain the almost professional air he’d adopted, “but the briefcase allows me to be precise.”

“So, basically, you suck at time travel without your security blanket?” you said, pressing your advantage. 

Nobody broke into your home and got away without being taken down a peg or two. 

Five scowled, and you felt a brief sense of triumph as he continued. 

“Oh, because you’re so good at time travel?” he snapped, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“No,” you said, causticly, “I own a bar. It’s not exactly in the job description. But if I couldn't make you decent Manhattan without clinging to a recipe book, you might start to think I’m under-qualified.”

Five’s scowl deepened, and even though this should theoretically make him more frightening, it didn’t: it further levelled the playing field.

“As pleasant as this little back and forth is,” he said with a hint of his old flirtation, we’re getting off the point. Little actions can have far-reaching consequences. For example, you spoil one manchild’s Christmas spirit, and then boom, we could have nuclear armageddon on our hands.”

“What?” you asked, taken aback.

“Yep,” he said, seriously, “you’d be amazed how even the most insignificant events can fuck the future beyond all recognition. And, that’s exactly what happened with your angry little diatribe to my brother.”

As you took a couple of seconds to absorb this, Five leaned towards you fractionally, his eyes regaining more of that lost authority.  

You looked back at him, and the air grew heavy at the moment your eyes connected. You felt like a fish on a hook in the pull of his gaze, the sound of wind outside coming into greater prominence in that single, suspended moment. 

There was another bolt of electricity, another raising of the hairs on the back of your neck. Though this time it wasn’t caused by you sensing Five’s power. 

Well, not his superpower, at least. 

Five glanced away and cleared his throat, and the spell was broken. Your mind became a fraction less cloudy and, in doing so, butted against a roadblock in his credibility.

“This is bullshit!” you cried, incredulously “Seriously, an armageddon?”

 Five shrugged.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Actions have consequences, and they snowball. Time is chaos, and one wrong move can fuck up everything.”

You shook your head in denial.

“Do you really expect me to believe that not playing at some sickly, cloying, Christmas with your clown car of a family causes nuclear armageddon?”

Five sighed exasperatedly. 

“Why is it so hard for you to just play nice?” he said, voice betraying annoyance for the first time, “why the hell have you got your panties in such a bunch around Christmas, anyway?”

And then his mouth twitched, and he let out a little chuckle.

“Though I admit that ‘clown car’ is a good description.”

You ignored this, as well as his prying questions and folded your arms defiantly. 

“Fine,” he said, with a hint of smugness, “you don’t have to tell me.”

He reached down to the floor and fiddled with his briefcase, and then grabbed your elbow before you could protest.

 “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

His hand tightened on your arm and, in a fizz of static, you were both gone, leaving no trace but the echo of your scream in the empty apartment.

Read Chapter Two >> I FEED OFF COMMENTS AND REBLOGS YUM YUM YUM

Marley's Ghost (left) and The Ghosts of Departed Usurers, or, The Phantoms. (right) Both by John Leech, 1843 in Dickens's A Christmas Carol, first edition (1843).

Dickens' A Christmas Carol full text available here.

Read it! It's a much better than this, and you can see how many lines I stole verbatim or clumsily referenced. If you haven't guessed, 'bullshit' is this Scrooge!Reader's 'bah humbug'.😊 Dividers used in this series by @bernardsbendystraws (garland) and @strangergraphics (lights)

Taglist: @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969, @chalametabingbong, @lolawassad, @icantpickanamefromonefandom @thebearmage, @kaybreezy3000 (comment to be added or removed)

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 14

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Daisy has a great time meeting Jake’s family but not everything is as it seems.

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

“Hi there, sweetie,” The woman I recognized as Caroline pulled me into a hug, her older sister, Helen, was next. Both women were tall and blonde, sporting matching dimpled smiles and had the same green eyes as my boyfriend. Helen was slightly taller than Caroline, both of whom were absolutely beautiful in their casually cute clothjes.

“It’s so good to finally meet the woman who has little Jakey wrapped around her finger,” I blushed hard, chuckling softly.

“I don’t know about that but it’s nice to meet you too. Jake’s sorry he couldn’t make it,” Helen waved it off.

“We’re a Navy family, we get it.” 

“What we don’t get,” Caroline was grinning from ear to ear, grabbing my hand off of the table, squeezing it tight. “Is how someone as amazing as you settled for our brother.”

“Be nice,” Mama chided but Caroline was undeterred. I could see Jake in his family, their relentlessness, the way the corners of their eyes crinkled when they smiled, and the way they showed their affection through touch.

“You’re cute as a button and a famous author, Jakey says you’re a fantastic cook and an even better baker, the total package. So, how did he trick you into dating him?” 

“There was no tricking involved,” I laughed, I squeezed Caroline’s hand. “At first I thought he was a bit…” I trailed off, not sure what to say in front of his family but Helen swooped in with a laugh.

“Of an ass?” 

“I actually laughed in his face the first time he tried to flirt with me,” His sisters cackled in delight. “But he won me over. He listens to all my rambling, buys me lots of M&Ms, and makes me feel like the most important person in any room.” A wave of sadness washed over me, Jake’s absence suddenly ten times harder. “He was really excited to come,” I added softly, my smile faltering. Helen and Caroline shared a look then smiled at me,

“You really love him, huh?” Helen asked, I just nodded. “Well, then welcome to the family, Daisy.” No one said anything as I less-than-discreetly wiped away tears that pooled in my eyes, the conversation turning towards what we were all going to order. 

“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” Mqama asked, I shook my head and she smiled. “Good, I have a roast on for dinner tonight. I meant to ask Jacob but then the specialist called.” The specialist? I didn’t pry, it wasn’t my business, but Jake had mentioned his father having health issues in the past, so I filed away the information for later. Surely they would have called Jake if it was about his father and Jake would have told me. 

“You know, rumor has it that you’re working on a romance book,” Helen said after we placed our orders.

“Really now?” I laughed, wondering whether it was my agent or my publisher that had started the rumor. They were both desperate for me to send pages of a romance novel and I would never put it past them to try and use fan-pressure to push me.

“I was at a book signing a few years ago, you said you’d never write anything but detective stories,” Caroline added, sipping her water. “Did something or someone maybe,” Oh God, they were worse than Jake, “Change your mind?” 

“I wouldn’t believe all the rumors you hear,” Is all I said, shaking my head. The sisters whined, Caroline sticking her bottom lip out. “I am working on a new series though.” 

“A romantic one?” Helen asked hopefully, frowning when I shook my head. “Come on, Daisy! We’re your sisters-in-laws, you can tell us you’re writing a romance book.” 

“Did I miss a wedding?” I laughed, cheeks hot at the idea of getting married to their brother. I knew if he was here, Jake would tell them the exact number of days between now and when he could propose. 

“The wedding is a technicality-” Helen waved it off.

“I think we all know Jakey is going to propose,” Caroline added, my blush getting hotter.

“Girls, he said not to tease her,” Mama chastised. “But we really do hope he proposes soon, Franklin proposed to me after a month.” A month in, I still wasn’t sure if Jake actually liked me, I thought with a smile, shaking my head.

“Isaac proposed to me after eight,” Caroline added. Helen shrugged,

“I proposed to Ray after two years, he was taking too long.” I raised my hand to where the dog tag chain rested around my neck, missing Jake. If he was here he’d probably have his hand on my thigh beneath the table, teasing Helen for proposing, teasing me about how much his family liked me, and whispering in my ear, asking if the one-year rule still stood. 

“I know he’s thinking about it,” I sighed, pulling the tags out of my shirt to hold them. “And when the time is right, I’ll say yes. Now, are you going to make me beg for embarrassing stories about my boyfriend?” 

Lunch went well, then Caroline and Helen insisted that we go shopping at some local boutiques. I picked up a sweatshirt with the town name on it, Jake would probably get a kick out of me wearing it, and I bought a box of homemade saltwater taffy that Caroline said was Jake’s favorite. After the last store, mama took me home, telling me more stories about Jake as we drove.

“Franklin, you can call him pops, might be taking a nap when we get inside,” Mama warned when we pulled into the driveway. The property was beautiful, the driveway must have been a mile long, lined with gorgeous scenery, horses, and cows. I had never seen anything like it and against all of my instincts, I could hear the whispers of a sweet-talking cowboy in my mind. 

“Nothing wrong with a good nap,” I laughed, “It must take a lot of energy to keep up with this place.” Mama patted my shoulder,

“How right you are, sweetheart. Let’s get your bags in the house,” The house was quiet when we entered and mama showed me to Jake’s old bedroom where I’d be staying. “Settle in, maybe take some time to write. Jacob said you were the type to appreciate alone time.” 

“You make it sound like he never stops talking about me,” Mama chuckled.

“That’s because he doesn’t, sweetheart.” Her words sunk into me as the door shut behind her, leaving me alone in Jake’s room. I shut the door, digging into Jake’s checked luggage that he had to abandon when he got called in and pulled on one of his sweatshirts, breathing in his familiar scent. 

“I wish you were here,” I whispered, crawling into his bed. The sheets were a similar green plaid to those he had on his bed back in California and the walls were covered with posters of baseball and football players. 

Daisy: I miss you 

I stared at the text for a long time before deleting it. Jake needed to focus on his mission, not on me. Instead I texted Penny, who had undoubtedly heard that the squad was being deployed through Mav.

Daisy: They’re going to be okay, right? 

Penny: Try not to worry, D. Hangman will do whatever he can to come home to you

Daisy: How do you do it?

Penny: When Mav flies, I trust that he’s an amazing pilot who knows he has people waiting on him at home, just like Hangman does

Daisy: When does it start getting easier?

Penny: I’ll let you know when I figure it out

I groaned, pulling the hood of Jake’s sweatshirt over my head so that I was surrounded by his scent. What had I been thinking, agreeing to meet Jake’s family alone? I was in way over my head, that was clear. Jake had warned me that his family was keen on us getting married and how excited they were to meet me but I hadn’t expected to feel this overwhelmed by it all. To be fair, I hadn’t expected to be alone either. 

“Jake Seresin,” I pulled the blanket over my head, “You better come home to me.” 

When I woke up from my nap the smell of pot roast had filled the house, I sleepily climbed out of bed and headed for the stairs. 

“What did the oncologist say?” Mama asked, her voice floating up the stairs. Oncologist? I froze. Jake hadn’t said what his dad was sick with but I knew enough about cancer to know it could come back. I finished going down the stairs, finding mama in the kitchen with a frail looking man  who resembled Jake and it was clear. 

Mama and the man I assumed was pops turned around and by their reactions, I knew my face was saying exactly what I was thinking. 

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag, Honey Bunny.” 

“You’re sick again, aren’t you?” My voice was soft, if his dad was sick, it would kill him. 

“This isn’t exactly how I planned on meeting you, Daisy.” Pops stood on shaky legs, crossing the kitchen to stand in front of me. He took my hands in his, “But yes, the cancer came back.” 

“I have to call Jake,” I reached for my phone.

“Don’t, please, Daisy,” Mama begged. “You can’t tell him, not if he’s deployed.” I paused, one hand held by pops, the other holding my phone. “If he gets upset and something happens-” There were tears all around when she said those words. “Please, don’t tell him.” 

She was right. If Jake’s emotions got the best of him while he was supposed to be focused on his mission, something bad could happen. And if something bad happened, his family would blame me and I wouldn’t be able to hold that against them because they’d be right. 

“Okay,” I held out my phone, not trusting myself with it. Mama took it then brought me into a hug, Pops joining in after a moment. 

X

“Stop grinding your teeth, you’ll give yourself a headache,” Phoenix shoved my shoulder. 

“Leave him alone, Phoenix. His girl is meeting his parents without him.” Rooster patted me on the back, “She’ll be fine, man. Your folks already love her.”

“I should be there,” I ground out. Javy shot me a look that told me to cool it. I loved being a pilot, I loved the Navy, and I loved Daisy. I should be there, holding her hand and suffering at the hands of my sisters. I should be showing her my favorite sweets shop, buying her more saltwater taffy than she could eat in a year, and sneaking kisses that would make her blush when my parents had their backs turned. 

“Mav said it was a quick hop, just focus on that,” Said Rooster and I prayed he was right because there was one place I needed to be right now and that was with my girlfriend.

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @nervousenemyduck @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @hookslove1592 @closetspngirl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

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[dmwrites]

2023 fic roundup! Thanks for reading my stuff this year!

Below is all of the fic links, summaries, and any additional notes (in chronological order) from yours truly:)

NPC Bdubs: an in-game explanation to why Bdubs didn’t upload his Limited Life pov- Cleo notices that Bdubs is acting a little weird, almost like some kind of non-playable character.

The Coral Kids’ Keeper: Martyn and Scott live out on a island on the sea on the Limited Life server, and a sea creature that calls himself xbcrafted take interest in them. He protects them. He is here to protect them, right? (Dm note: oh my goddd I love this one still I love the horror at the end [I may just be biased to xb tbh lol])

Impulse’s post-death affirmation: Impulse got second place in Limited Life, and Skizz is so proud of him.

Clock Full of Love: Impulse gave Bdubs a clock in the beginning of Limited Life. At the end, Cleo adds her own touch to it.

Grian and Scar’s punishment: It all started when Grian and Scar touched his (Doc’s) redstone (tunnel bore). Their punishment? Zombiecleo scolding them.

Talks of Adoration on the Tower of Team TIES: Etho and Impulse have more in common then they think, and reflect on it all one sleepless night in the Team TIES base

Big and Handsome God Has A Big Sad: the empires s2 server can’t be empty, right? Sure, Joel hasn’t seen anyone in forever, but people still love him, surely, right? They wouldn’t all leave him. They wouldn’t. Right? (Dm note: this idea wasn’t executed as well as I would have liked, but I really like the crumbling reality vibes of this one)

Cuddling with the Homies: Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Skizz playing Sons of the Forest. They get one tiny-ass tent to all sleep in. It’s if the “only one bed” trope was four dudes being idiots in the woods in a tent.

I know how to keep you warm;)): the new life smp folks wonder if Chillager Martyn will freeze up if he gets flustered. Scott is up to the task. It’s all silly.

Copper Pearlo takes on The Button (2): Grian and Mumbo stumble upon copper golem Pearl

One Year Later: Double Life ended one year ago (when I posted this fic lol). Impulse makes Bdubs another clock

The CuteGuy Who Stepped Up: Scar needs a CuteGuy sidekick, and Grian does not want to be a sidekick in the slightest. Enter Joe Hills from Nashville, Tennessee. (Dm note: the CuteGuy main character was decided by a poll. This is also my second most-liked fic of 2023)

The Slime Code: Gem is a slime in New Life! She calls Jevin on Hermitcraft to ask about any slime rules she now needs to follow

A Dream of Pink: Joel has a dream of showing a pretty girl with pink hair (who roasts him) his hardcore world builds. She seems familiar…

3rd Life x NightVale: the radio transcript when Cecil Palmer from the town of NightVale interviews a strange man with a red sweater and split knuckles and keeps talking about something that happened in a desert. (Dm note: love this one, definitely caters to a very specific audience, but this one shows up in my notifs almost every day. I think I did a good job at the ad breaks and such.)

Sacrificial Impulse: Grian, Scar, and Skizz died while hunting ghosts with Impulse. Impulse wants to bring them back, no matter the cost. Also, EvilNotion is the ghost hunters’ boss.

xB’s Revenge- a Blood on the Clocktower story: based on the first session of hermitcraft’s BOTC, Iskall accuses xbcrafted of being the demon, and xB becomes the first innocent to die. But xB sticks around after death, and wants the sweetest revenge on Iskall. (Dm note: this one is long as hell but man the concept was so good. Drowned!xb is so good.)

Bdoubledown? How Cute: a brief conversation between Impulse and Skizz about Impulse’s brand new soulmate in Double Life

GIGS gets another G: Gem is jealous that Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Skizz are hunting ghosts, and wants to join in. Pearl, local odd woman, has a way. Possession is fun among friends! (Dm note: this is the most liked fic of this year, which is definitely not what I expected lol)

The Dungeon Is Hungry: Hypno thinks all the superstitions around the Decked Out 2 dungeon are stupid. That is until everything goes sideways and Cub is covered in sculk and pointing a sword at him down in level 4.

The Impossible Task: Martyn gets a very simple, two-word task in Secret Life: find RenTheDog. But Ren isn’t here… right? (Dm note: when I thought of this idea I literally said “ouch!” in my head lol)

GIGGS Hunts a Ghost!: the GIGGS crew gets called on by Zedaph to find and capture evidence of a ghost he claims he has seen haunting hermitcraft. (Dm note: the b-plot grian and zed rivalry is so funny to me idk why I decided they hate each other lolll)

A Moment of Peace: Martyn and Cleo are estranged soulmates in Double Life, and they take a moment to drink some tea and talk about what soulmate they’d like to have if they had a choice.

It Feels Different Now (and that’s a good thing): Pearl has to hurt people on the Secret Life server as part of her task, but she takes no joy in it now. She harkens back to what has changed between Double Life and now.

Jimmy’s Grave: Cleo made Jimmy a grave before he died in Secret Life. He did end up dying that very day, and a mourner comes by his grave when it’s all said and done.

Red: Pearl’s favorite color is red. She is made to be a red name, even when she’s not.

Becoming the Villain of the Server: (secret life) Scar digs up Jimmy’s grave to take his spine, to sell it to Joel, pretending that it’s Lizzie’s. Hey, what else is a man to do? (Dm note: this one fucks so hard, i love how fucked up the idea of it is, what Scar would have to do to make it happen. Eating this.)

From One Lonely Winner to Another: Scar wins Secret Life. Sunflowers grow from his skin to be with him as he goes to succeed the final task. (Dm note: another one I love, I just love the aesthetic of it all.)

[copiousloverofcopia]

HERE IT IS! The moment some of you have been waiting for...well maybe not really lol...

Since I completed The Red Dress as promised I have started on one of my promised other new works.....UNDER THE SPELL!

Please be nice I am SO not used to writing for Mary, so I hope its ok!

Mary Goore x OC Piper!

Piper and Mary have been best friends since they first met as children. When Mary and her boyfriend Sid asked her to come along on gigs, Piper thought it was a no-brainer. But as the excitement of the buzzing amps dies down, she realizes she wants more—now if only she can get him to agree.

Chapter 1: Fishnets and Regrets

Also available HERE on AO3!

Eventually will be NSFW below the cut 😈

She was trying her best to stay cool, staving off the tears that relentlessly pricked at her eyes. The sharp-winged cat eyeliner and heavily mascaraed lashes sent a trail of black down her cheeks. A battle lost, but only for a short moment until she could bring herself to carry on. Piper stared into the mirror of another random bar's bathroom, angry at herself for not realizing what she wanted to do with her life sooner. Despite her upset, the show must go on. Knowing that would need to stuff it down before heading out to face them again—her chosen family and partners in crime, Repugnant. 

She had spent the last 6 years of her life traveling with them and when the sounds of humming amps kicked on and the guitars screamed as they were being tuned—she needed to move her ass. Before heading back out, she adjusted her tattered fishnets, that had seen better days, and re-tied her scuffed up black combat boots. They were her favorite—a gift from Mary many years ago. Piper checked the mirror, once more, just to be sure that her mohawk hadn't fallen, before using her foot to kick open the door.  

Her mind was still heavy with anger and hurt. The fight she and Sid had was only a short time ago and it left her feeling heated, like she was roasting from the inside. Now she'd have to go and watch them perform—pissed off but having got her shit together enough to keep the peace. After all, there were still a bunch more gigs to go and the road home, for her, didn’t really exist. 

It was the first time in a long time Piper wished she was somewhere else. Traveling with the four guys and Tom's girl, Annie, had been a dream come true. She lived for the music, the lights of the stage, and the energy from the crowd as the guys performed. Having grown up with Mary and getting close with the rest of them, it was only natural that they all worked so well together. So, when Mary and Sid asked her to tag along while they toured the world, she thought she couldn’t ask for anything more—that was until last week. 

She was late—very late. Her period, which had normally come like clockwork, had decided to give both her and Sid the scare of a lifetime. Both of them in a full-blown panic as the reality of that drunken mishap set in. Sid was pissed, throwing shit around the hourly rate hotel room, spouting comments about her needing to get shit taken care of and him not wanting any damn kids. Piper wasn’t at all surprised at his psychotic meltdown, but what she was surprised about was her reaction to the negative test. In that moment everything changed, and she was, for lack of a better word, conflicted. 

When only one line appeared on the stick, Sid was ecstatic. Jumping up and down acting like a complete and utter fool. Thrilled out of his mind that he had dodged yet another bullet despite his recklessness. Piper was relieved too, in a way. Sid was not necessarily the "fatherly" type, but the idea of having a kid hadn't left her—even a week later. 

That's when the fight happened, and of course it just had to happen before the show. Sid couldn't let things go and give her the space she needed when she told him nothing was wrong. So, with his incessant pushing and Piper's built-up anger, the truth came spilling out like blood from a gushing wound. Not her finest moment to be sure, but she wondered if all of this was what needed to happen.

Things had been rocky for some time with Sid. He was a good man deep down, but definitely immature and Piper was pretty sure his photo was next to "man child" in the dictionary. She loved him, but she knew at this point it was over between them��Piper had figured out she wanted more than just a spot in the tour bus and glorified groupie status with the band. She told Sid she wanted to move on with her life and settle down. And with that revelation, blow up number 1,346 began. Leaving them officially split up and Piper in an awkward place—feeling empty. 

She took in a deep breath before continuing down the hall and stepping out onto the floor, the band playing when she had made her way to the pit. The guitars were drilling into the audience’s skulls and the drums banging hard, vibrating in her chest. The feeling of the music coursing through her, was truly something she'd never get enough of. Piper watched Sid playing his guitar, Tom on drums, Carlos on bass, and of course Mary absolutely slaughtering the vocals. The frustration, hanging itself within her soul, shredding with the sounds of the death metal they came to play. 

The smell of cigarette smoke was heavy in the air and the sticky floor pulled at the bottoms of her boots, but she didn't care. Piper head-banged her way through Draped in Cerecloth and tried to just let go. Her mohawk swinging around and the chains on her belt rattling as she jumped up and down, screaming into the universe and giving every last bit of energy she had to Mary and the guys. Thankfully it was gonna be a great night of music, but also a night she would never forget.

The show was a blast, the crowd losing it over the performance and tearing the place up as they rocked out to what their parents surely referred to as “deafening noise”. As their spot was over, Mary and the guys along with Piper and Annie took the opportunity to throw a few back before heading out for the night. All of them laughing and celebrating another show well done, Piper being a bit less enthusiastic as usual. Mary, taking note that she and Sid had been keeping their distance. 

The bar had now been closed for over an hour and while everyone else minus the stagehands had left to head back to the bus, Piper decided to hang out for some time alone. She sat by herself with a beer in hand and picked at yet another tear in her fishnets, when she saw Mary coming towards her. Fuck , she thought to herself knowing exactly where this was going.  

Mary Goore had been covered in blood since the beginning of the show. Preferring to start things out with a bang. Dripping with it as he raged in sonnets of death and the defiling of corpses. The metallic liquid, now managing to cover his shirt and matted a bit of his hair, but he didn't care. It was another glorious night for him and the guys, though he couldn’t let go of the feeling that things were off with Sid and Piper. 

He felt a connection to her like no other—the best of friends since the cradle. Their families were close from the beginning. When Mary's Dad took off and Piper's parents were killed, they were the ones to help each other hold it together. She had been a staple in his life. A constant he knew he could always count on. Things had been weird lately between her and Sid, that was for sure. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out things were at an all-time low. 

"Pipes? Why aren't you on the bus?" He asked as he slumped down beside her on the edge of the stage. Piper shrugged a bit, taking another swig of her beer to finish it off before speaking. 

"Just didn't feel like it quite yet. I figured I'd wait till everything got packed up and then head over."

"Bullshit." Mary said straight faced and serious toned. He was a bit intimidating after a show, all that blood over his face and the tiniest amount of grumble to his voice—after having pushed it so hard.

"Oh come on. Don't do that thing you do." Piper begged—her words futile. She knew he could sense it, there was definitely something she wasn’t telling him. Piper was surprised that Sid hadn't told him yet about their break up, since he had never known how to keep his mouth shut. 

"You know better sweetness than to lie to my face." He told her as he widened his gaze and tried to lean in closer. Piper pressed her lips together into a tight line and furrowed her brows before dropping her eyes to her lap. Damn Mary for always being right and always knowing when she was hiding something. 

“Sid and I well…we aren’t a thing anymore.” Piper said calmly before looking back over at Mary. His face was filled with disgust, imagining the multitude of things Sid could have done to destroy things with Piper, who had stuck by his ass for so long. 

“What did that rat bastard do now?” Mary growled knowing full well how asinine his friend could be. Piper put her hand on Mary’s shoulder to calm him. It was slick with blood and sweat and some face paint, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Mary grabbed for her hand and gave her a concerned look. 

“No Mare, it’s nothing like that. We just decided that we want different things—I want different things.” Piper explained. 

“Well what the fuck does that even mean?” Mary laughed, though a bit nervously.

“I think this may be the end of the road for me. After the next few gigs, I’m gonna have to figure something out. I got other things I wanna do with my life and being stuck on the bus isn’t it anymore.”

“Where is this coming from? I thought you loved being on tour with us?” Mary asked her, completely confused and honestly more shaken than if it had been only the Sid issue. He didn’t want Piper to leave. Half the time she was the only thing that kept him from going off the deep end. What’s got her ready to run if it ain't Sid , he asked himself. 

“I wanna settle down, take up root somewhere and well that's not gonna happen with Sid or while I’m on the road with you all.” Piper admitted. She and Mary had usually been upfront with each other. Each appreciating the other's candor, saving them from misunderstandings but tonight she was withholding something. And while Piper might have wanted to keep the intimate details of her heartache to herself, Mary would know she was lying before she could speak the words.

“What a pussy.” he snorted, angry with Sid for spurring this whole thing on, thinking to himself anyone would be lucky to be committed to Piper. “Honestly Pipes you are better off without him…but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I want you to stay. Don’t go.”  

“Uh…fuck…Mare that’s not the start.” Piper explained, swallowing back the knot forming in her throat. Now Mary was on red alert. All his senses, buzzing with something big about to come out of Piper’s mouth���and then she said it. 

“I wanna have a baby.” she told him, Mary turning even paler than his face paints. It was only when his stunned stare turned into a dissociated blink, that Piper knew he hadn’t gone catatonic, “Mare?”

“Ah…umm…” he began smearing the blood through his hair as he ran his hand over his head. Clearly still in shock from Piper’s confession, “...what happened to you starting that band? What were you going to call it? Crazy Chrysanthemums or something?” he asked, unable to think of anything else to say in his stupor.  

“It was Wild Violets…That doesn't matter. That was just a fleeting idea.” Piper explained, “You’re missing the point.”

“And this ISN’T a fleeting idea?” Mary continued. 

“No…I honestly hadn’t thought about this kinda thing at all, but we had a scare and well… I can’t stop thinking about it.” Then Mary stood up, beginning to pace the stage as he took in everything his best friend was saying. Her words, hitting him like daggers to the chest.  

“Piper…”

“Yes?” She asked as Mary walked over to her and held out his hand. Waiting for her to take it so he could lift her up onto the stage. Piper gave it to him, quickly getting up on her feet as Mary and her eyes met in what remained of the stage lights. 

“So not a joke…not a fleeting idea?” he asked, already knowing the answer. Pulling at the worn neckline of his Morbid t-shirt.  

“Not a joke I swear.” Piper replied, putting up her hands like some girl scout signaling her pledge to the troop. Mary got quiet again—his eyes dropping away from hers and down to the scratched up remnants of old band stickers and other crap that had adhered to the floor of the stage. “Mare?” she called to him, watching him get lost in thought. 

“Sorry I am still trying to wrap my head around you wanting Sid to be a dad.” Mary jabbed, trying to insert some humor into the situation, but he could tell it only made Piper more upset. 

“Oh come on Pipes you know this whole thing is a little fucked right? Hell, even I'd be a better Dad than..." Mary began when the idea struck Piper like a ton of bricks. One she instantly knew felt right, but oh boy was it going to be a bitch to convince Mary. He could see it—the look in her eye told him she was scheming and now his anxiety went through the roof. “…what are you thinkin’... 

“Mare…here me out. What if you—” Piper barely got out the first words before Mary began pacing around once more, his eyes blown wide and his jaw dragging across the floor. 

"Nope, nope don't like that." Mary said, shaking his head. “No way you’re even considering what I think you are considering.” 

“But Mare…you are my best friend. My other half, I can’t think of anyone else better. I don’t wanna waste my time with some deadbeat guys…not when I have you. Not when I know that you’re perfect.” Piper finished, a newfound energy surging through her. Wondering why she hadn’t thought of this before tonight. Mary was visibly in shock. His mind swirling with the implications of his best friend’s words. Wondering if he was finally losing his mind from all the stress of touring.  

“Perfect for what Pipes?” he asked her, straining against the words he knew were about to leave her lips. 

“I want it to be you. I want you and I…to have a baby.”

[talesfromasnarkylisa]

Lacey: Chapter 6

August 3, 2023

It was Thursday afternoon. I completed the Music Refined editor application in the morning before work, so all I had to do was to submit it. Once I did that, I worked on editing a video. I hadn’t uploaded to YouTube in forever and I was losing subscribers. What I didn’t expect to see was an onslaught of hate comments. 

Ladybugfan (2 hours ago): go fuck yourself.

Peterparking (3 hours ago): I’m sure you wouldn’t go behind a rival editor’s back to make fun of them watching a kid’s show, Mr. Grammar Freak?

loverstanner (6 hours ago): What is with you and your obsession to make teenagers sob themselves to sleep over overblown mistakes

Coderguy (10 hours ago): Hello James hope you had fun breaking Lovergirl’s heart

They were varied, but all had one thing in common: bringing up old drama. Some talked about my previous tendency to talk shit about publication editors. Others mentioned my needless roasting of a beginner writer’s one small typo to the point of bringing them to tears. And that wasn’t even getting into my relationship with Betty. Good lord, is that something I do not want to get into.

I didn’t bother to go through all the comments. There were just too many. But I did check the video analytics. Lo and behold, many of these commenters were also former subscribers of mine. I also checked my Twitter analytics. My old controversies really still bit me in the ass.

Darian and I met up at the park later on. He was finished his voice work for the week and I needed a break from dealing with all the hate comments.

“How’s it going, James?” asked Darian.

“Done with the Music Refined application,” I told him, “which is nice.”

“That’s awesome!” a giddy Darian smiled.

We sat on a wooden bench close to the river. 

“I guess,” I adjusted my shirt. “But I’m not sure if I’ll get in. Besides, people are still bringing up my old drama.”

Darian sighed.

“Let’s be real here,” he pointed out. “You were pretty obnoxious last year. Even just a few months ago, there was still that whole argument where you got petty over a fanart of you with a streamer the artist didn’t know you hated.”

“That streamer was one of Augusta’s lackeys,” I said.

“It’s not like he knew that,” responded Darian.

I started feeling increasingly frustrated with my oblivious friend.

“If Noah did any sort of research, any Google search-” I nearly lashed out.

“This isn’t easily searchable,” said Darian. “The most Izzy publicly did was say she liked Augusta’s art and hoped Augusta would find a good therapist. To an outsider, it’s probably not a big deal.”

“Fine,” I calmed down. 

Darian was right. There’s a reason I had to apologize for my spat with Noah and backed down. 

“Let’s talk about something else!” exclaimed Darian.

“Like what?” I wondered.

“I read this article on the Guardian about this hilarious scambait that lasted five months,” said Darian.

“Tell me more,” I responded. I’ve always loved stories of good scambaits.

Darian began telling me the story. It all started with a man named John. John was an IT support guy tired of being single, so he went onto Tinder to have a little fun. Sure enough, he found a perfectly sculpted young woman named Brigid. Or so she presented as. John’s next few DMs with her made it pretty clear she (if she was even a she) was just a scammer. From the instant desire to marry to a fascination with cryptocurrency, anyone with a functioning brain should have been able to figure out their bluff. This obviously included John.

Did John just block the fake profile and move on with his life? No. He was a very bored man and this alleged woman had a very checkered online dating record. John tried his hand at scambaiting. The guy gave them the most absurd of responses. When they told him he was a duke’s son, he always corrected them to say he was the long-lost king. Whenever they told him to buy NFTs, he sent them videos about the dangers of NFTs. 

John spent a lot of his free time wasting their time to prevent them from scamming others. But all perversely enjoyable things come to an end and so did this. After almost half a year of cat-and-mouse, Brigid gave up. They then nuked their Tinder profile.

After hearing about the story of John from Darian, I contemplated to myself: what if I could be like John? Find someone to try to scam me, and then turn that back around on them and write about it for clout. I could make hundreds of thousands. But how would I find that person anyhow? It seemed very time consuming. I had multiple jobs to work, not to mention a potential editor position that would take even more time.

All of the sudden, I started thinking of Lacey. In our last few in-server conversations, she seemed to like me a lot. She sent me a bunch of smiley face emojis after a joke I made and asked me questions about my favorite song lyrics. 

A plan came to mind: manipulate her to do shady things and make myself out to be the victim. I dismissed the thought at first. She’s just a nobody, I told myself. On the other hand, most scammers are nobodies anyways. 

What would be the harm when she deserved it?

(Wattpad version: https://www.wattpad.com/1483652157-lacey-chapter-6)

[mellow-island7]

Twitter Drafts

was writing down my twitter drafts in a word document cause i'm gonna deactivate my twitter again cause i'm getting overwhelmed again by everything and thought i'd share some of these on tumblr lol

These drafts start from now (8/23/23) and go all the way back to i think like a year ago or something like that, some of the drafts are unfinished but yea anyways heres some of them

(pt 1)

(ps my bad i probably sound like an asshole in some of these, i was really sad and have been stuck in a perpetual shit cycle for the past 3 years)(but also i have to learn to stop apologizing for things that i don't need to be sorry for)

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

Stuck in a body that isn’t mine,

Everything is a waste of time

Dumb yuppie mfkrs talking about being “broke” with a car, a house, gear that works and a house that has food everyday :|

Lol :|

We need a show in south florida for the Daniel Johnston fans all 5 to 6 of us

Mfkrs will literally kick you down and be like dude get up already, stop being lazy

Its funny hearing people talking about getting older and gaining weight and running out of breath and I’m like “dude literally all you do is smoke weed and watch shit on Netflix, what the fuck would you expect”

Lol you really not grown till you get sued for the first time

Mad respect and appreciation for anyone that takes the time to try and and understand themselves emotionally

In my head thinking about how it totally not cute to be this sad at my age

In my head counting all the people that hate me

I’m grateful for the people that I’ve been friends with since middle school

The online therapists are exploiting mental illness, places like b*tter help want you to think you are weak and they want you to think you can’t do it yourself so that you can pay them a good amount of money to talk you into fixing your own problems

Yea I’m probably gonna hold off on doing shit seriously till I have money again

I know where I am, I know where I’m going and I know how I’m gonna get there

You should be scared you fucking limp dick weasel, I hope you get everything that you have coming for you

Wtf you could bs nose slide? :o

I just wanna skate and make music with my friends, its not that complicated

This mini ramp is slowly but surely making my brain so much stronger

Don’t understand plus don’t care plus don’t wanna understand plus I gotta st

Do things for genuine reasons

I need to stop apologizing for things I don’t need to be sorry about

(added this in rn, wasn’t originally in our twitter drafts ^^^)

Nick is like the mike Sinclair to my billy marks

One day when I’m older and more stable with money and more in a place of comfort, I look forward to being able to smoke weed while playing playstation 2 games

Lifes moving in such a weird direction and I’m really happy and excited but also a lil sad also goddamn some of the things happening  are so bizarre

Educate the yuppie jits, they don’t know any better

You are exactly like all the people you complain about and if you weren’t busy having your head so far up your own ass maybe you could see that

I love being an internet music nerd, all I wanna do is be on my computer and listen to music and make shit

I’m trying very hard to stay optimistic and keep working hard towards things that I think actually matter and if you are in any way trying to impede on that optimism (no matter how false you think it may be) then FUCK YOUUUUU just SHUT THE FUCK UP

Growing up means literally faking being happy every day

I can’t wait to turn 30

I need a job so fucking bad and I desperately need to leave this house

Steel reserve suicide? 👀

Fuck it lol I think imma finish as much as I can of the ruffans stuff and put it out as a demos album LOL (at this point that makes more sense than having this be an actual album)

Definitely gotta keep our friends humble cause :| some mfkrs are getting so prideful and arrogant :|

I think we need to start roasting our friends a bit more, so many specific people are getting way too prideful and arrogant, like there’s nothing in with feeling a sense of pride in your self but definitely gotta humble people when they’re getting out of pocket

Being in a car with people that drive like shit :| is so fucking annoying :| and then they wanna act like you’re annoying as fuck for being scared :| fried ass mfkrs :|

Too many people down bad rn, get it together

:| talking about these things with the people you love is :| so :| fucking :| hard :| life is moving and changing in so many directions in so many ways :| and

You will only come to realize this when it is way too late and you’ve done an insane amount of irreparable damage and then you will regret so much as we all come to do

Life at 17: I need to kill myself Σ('◉���◉’)

Life at 24: yea fuck this dude I’m out :|

Lol its funny to me that theres people that only like me because I’m so sad and that feels soo fucked up for some reason

I don’t care if it’s good enough because it is genuinely the best can do

(rn)

Phone password is **** and my computer password is ******, theres a lot of live video and audio recordings of peoples bands and maybe some photos and logos and art and other random bullshit, if anyone cares to go and try and find that, go for it

I tried, sorry, thanks

(anecdote: lol fucking dumb edgy imbecile thinking anyone would give a fuck to try and find any of that garbage

Thanks

Its fireeee :,| <3

Goddammit ramon just do it already, watching you get up and keep trying is humiliating it feels like watching a one legged dog keep tripping over himself tryna cross the street, its so fucking sadd

No I’m not doing okay why the fuck would you askme some stupid dumbass question like that, tryna be on some hold your head up king bullshit, like I’m glad that you’ve managed to convince yourself that you’re happy, that’s awesome for you I love that for you genuinely but what the fuck I am obviously not happy why the fuck would you ask me that like what the fuck am I actually supposed to say to that

I am not too fond of punk music or shoegaze music or metal music(as genres), theres specific bands and individuals that I like but in general sense most of those genres are so fucking boring

I feel like I haven’t had a real conversation with another human being in so long, I feel so detached from reality like as if I’m not real and I’m watching myself continue on autopilot from outside my body

I’m the kind of stupid where I’ll have no money, get $5 and decide to share it with someone so we could eat together

:3

Sitting thinking about how many days will have to pass before have to sell my fuzzwar and amp and other belongings that mean a lot to me?

(something is wrong/broken)

One brain cell dimwit human being who is not doing anything to fix it or help in any way: “why are you not fixing this? What is wrong with you you useless irresponsible asshole?”

:|

I wish I had what you had

(plural)

I’m getting real close to selling my fuzzwar, at this point in life I have no one I’m close enough that would know what that would mean to me or even care but maya gave me that for my 19th brirthday, it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me ever

Jesus christ the way that asia argento looks at rip torn in marie Antoinette and just thinking about times in life when someone looked at you like that while touching your face

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

  Taglist: @kirbykook​ @kleritata​ @taestannie​ @jenotation​ @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban​ @speed-of-wind​ @kawaisoraya​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.  

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.  

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

.

.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

.

.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.  

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. ��Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

.

.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

.

.

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here!

A/N: If I had to give this part a title, I would title it “(Y/N) and their human friends” Also I lied. This part was too long so it might be another part (or two) before we get to the Bella Arc.

* “You know you would be pretty good looking without the glasses.” Lauren says twirling a strand of hair and ignoring the algebra worksheet in front of her.

* Yeah that’s kind of the whole point

* “Contacts kind of freak me out.”

* You’re expecting a snarky response but instead she nods.

* “It’s the whole sticking your finger in your eye thing right, I totally get that.” She’s watching you with such inquisitive eyes, it almost you uncomfortable.

* It’s been a few months since you started school, you’re almost at thanksgiving break. So far you feel like you’ve assimilated well, and you have a good balance between school and caring for your animals, but it’s situations like this that totally throw you off.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what did you get for number 5?” Jessica asks, you’re thankful for the distraction.

* “I got X = 8” Jessica confirms she got that too, and moves onto the next one

* You three are in the worlds most unlikely group. You didn’t even know Lauren was in this class you usually just pair up with Jessica.

* “Hey, me and a some people from the volleyball team are going to Port Angeles, you should come with, we could give you a makeover.”

*You wonder what the other angle here is

* It didn’t take long for you to realise that somehow, even with the ugly-duckling routine, the Cullen’s were at the top of the social hierarchy.

* Part of their popularity was probably because they didn’t really seem to interact with anyone outside of their own social circle. Which just made them all the more desirable.

* “I don’t know Lauren, I would have to ask Esme if it’s okay.” Though you can already bet Rosalie isn’t going to like this.

* “Oh cool, just let me know!” Lauren smiles, it turns out the act of considering her invitation was enough to placate her.

* For once you’re actually glad Edward’s waiting for you outside of your class when the bell rings.

* “Edward read that girls mind.”

* “It’s always straight to business isn’t it. No, ‘hi Edward how’s it going?’ Or ‘How was your class, how has your morning been treating you?’ It wouldn’t hurt you to make some small talk” You give him a look, and he returns it with an expectant expression. You sigh.

* “Hi, Edward how was your class?” You plaster on a smile, and he returns with a smile of his own.

* “It was fine. A little repetitive, we’re reading “to kill a mocking bird” in English.” You nod, offering a consoling pat on the shoulder

* “That sounds super boring,” the books great and all, but you’re guessing he’s already read it like 30 times by now. “Hey Edward,”

* “Yes (Y/N),” He nods, hiding his grin behind his hand.

* “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

* “Of course, anything for you.” He grins openly now.

* “Would you mind telling me what that girl Lauren Mallory is thinking so I can know why she invited me,” and not Jessica her good friend. “to hang out?”

* Edward loses his smile.

* “The varsity members on the volleyball team suggested it, they think it’s a shame they couldn’t have got you on the team since you just moved here.”

* Unexpected but not the worst. You’ve really been half assing it in PE so you’re surprised they even want you.

* “Lauren-she thinks you could be-“ a lopsided smirk twitches onto his face. “in her words- ‘two super good looking best friends’ “

*oh. So she just wants a pretty b*tch squad?

* “Maybe I’ll go with them then” you were scared they were going to force you to show them the Cullen’s house and introduce you to everyone, or leave you stranded in port A as some kind of prank or something.

* Edward stops you

*“you can’t be serious” he has his eyebrows scrunched together

* “Why not?” Nothing more natural to fitting in then hanging out with your classmates. Unless- “if you’re worried about any accidents don’t, I know they all look healthy but they eat a lot of carbs. Way too starchy for my palette.”

* “It’s not that-“ he gets that brooding-existence is suffering look. “You shouldn’t trust humans too much, they’ll let you down.”

* Well what’s that supposed to mean, but before you can ask he’s already walking to his class.

* Well whatever, at least Emmett will tell you a good joke to take your mind off of Mr. Eternal Damnations ominous words.

* Too bad when you get inside he’s not here, instead Mike Newton perks up when you walk into the room.

* “Hey Eleazar, how’s it going?” You still have a hard time adjusting to use Eleazar’s name as your own. Apparently they came from a time when last names were only for nobles, so he offered you his first name instead.

* “Hey Newton, any plans for this weekend?” You take Edward’s advice and start with small talk. Mike Newton smiles, you guess he’s kinda cute, all soft cheeks and baby blue eyes

* “No I’m completely free!” Weird how he’s so enthusiastic about being alone, he must be one of those “relish time alone” types. Good for him.

* “Everyone needs some time alone sometimes.” He deflates, oh man you guess that’s the wrong thing to say.

* He looks like he wants to say something to you, but then Emmett sits beside you.

* “Can I have a swig from your water bottle?” You hand it over

* “Making out with Rosalie make you thirsty?” Emmett cracks a grin

* “It’s that whole bookworm-soccer mom get up, it gets to me yknow?” That’s actually pretty funny

* “So what she’s the Velma to your Freddy?” When the reference doesn’t sink in you rephrase “the nerd to your jock.” He grins again.

* “I think I might join the swim team just so I can see her wear my letterman” that’s actually pretty cute

* “You should do that, I’ll cheer you on at your swim meets” Emmett grins.

*”I’ll hold you to that”

* School life goes on like it always has.

* Weeks pass, marked by tests, homework assignments and projects.

* You actually kind of become friends with Angela, Lauren, Jessica, Connor and Mike.

* “So like, are you and Cullen close?” Mike asks. You and the group are over at Tyler’s house using his fire pit to roast marshmallows. The others are invested in another conversation but you can tell by Lauren’s subtle head tilt that she’s eavesdropping.

* “Which one?” Mike gets flustered at that

* “The one in our grade.”

* “Hmm, well I’d say Alice and I are kinda close, but-“

* “N-no not her,” he clears his throat. “The other one-Edward”

* “Oh, Edward’s my best friend.” The answer slips out automatically.

* “I-Is that why you’re staying with the Cullen’s?” Jessica asks. Everyone’s blatantly listening now, the only one who seems uncomfortable is Angela.

* You sigh. You know everyone at school is probably wondering about the weird relationship. Jessica’s just the only one brave enough to ask you.

* “I mean, it might be.” You’re sure, Edward’s friendship with you is the reason everyone was so quick to accept the living arrangement. “But I actually met Car-I mean Dr. Cullen before I met the others.”

* “How does that work?” It’s Connor who pipes in this time.

* “Well-“ you sigh you really don’t want to do this but at least your sob story will make you seem less suspicious. “So Eleazer and Carmen, they’re my parents, but they’re not my birth parents.”

* You tell them how your parents passed away in an accident many years ago, and how Carlisle had been your Doctor at the time while you recovered. He worked with you for a long time, and you’re pretty sure he wanted to adopt you, but the agency liked Carmen and Eleazer better, probably because Carlisle already had so many adopted kids.

* “Still, Carlisle stayed in my life as my doctor and a family friend. Then I met Edward and the rest of the Cullen’s and... the rest is history...I guess.” You’ve found it’s best to mix a little bit of truth into the lie, though really all of that was mostly what happened.

* Everyone looks testy eyed, Angela is holding back tears, and Lauren hastily wipes her away so no one can see. You wonder if maybe your powers leaked out a bit while you were telling your story.

* “Dude... you’re so strong.” Tyler claps a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a hug.

* “Ah, it all happened a long time ago, I’m mostly over it now” You tell them all about your Coven in Denali, and how you have two families now, how you don’t regret anything. Well, the only thing you regret, is not staying human, but you can’t mention that so you fake a smile instead.

* Connor breaks out a bottle of vodka he stole from his mom, and pours a shot for everyone

* “To (Y/N)” everyone raises their glass, and not for the first time you feel the urge to cry but no tears escape you.

* You’re a lot closer to everyone after that. You even start sitting at their lunch table every so often.

* In fact the others follow your lead and assimilate with their classmates with ease. Rosalie joins the school book club, and very loudly debates Jane Austen’s to whoever will listen.

* Emmett follows through and joins the swim team. Jasper starts hanging out with some wood shop kids, you’ve caught him arguing about the superior wood in between classes with his new friends. Even Alice joins the art club.

* You try out for the dance/cheer team, it’s the only thing you don’t have to hold back in. Also you’re a great base, you could hold everyone on the team up single handedly during stunts. But you won’t know if you made it until summer vacation

* Everyone seems to be assimilating well, everyone except for Edward

* “You can’t expect me to trust these people (Y/N), not when I know everything they’re really thinking.” You roll your eyes

* “I’m not saying you have to be their best friend Eddie, I’m just saying it looks super suspicious that all the Cullen’s only hang out with each other and refuse to get to know anyone else.” You shove a text book into his chest, and he scoffs

* “It wouldn’t hurt to make some small talk.”

* And so Edward joins your group of human friends, much to the joy of your female companions and dismay of your male ones.

* Life is still strange. But it’s good.

* When you’re surrounded by your new friends, it makes you feel - almost like you’re human again

* And then everything falls apart.

* It’s almost summer vacation. You’re excited, maybe you can go to the beach again soon, and you wonder if it will be alright to take a trip to Denali to see your Coven. You’re pretty confident you made the spirit squad so you’ll have to pencil in camp somewhere. You held back, but just enough by your own parameters to make the bottom end of Varsity.

* You’re at your locker, when Rosalie, and Edward show up. Quickly followed by Emmett, Jasper and Alice.

* “Oh hey guys, you wanna go on a hike tomorrow it’s supposed-“

* “You have to leave.” You’re surprised when it’s Emmett that says this. Kind, jovial Emmett holds a grave expression.

* “What, why-“ for a second you wonder if the Volturi has finally come to get you. It’s been at least seven years since your transformation, it’s about time they started thinking about you.

* But then you notice everyone staring, the quiet buzz of phones vibrating only detected by your super hearing. People are always staring, especially when you’re all together. but this time you notice they’re not staring at the six super models gathered in front of the lockers.

* They’re staring at you.

* “There’s a video of you going around,” Jasper says, and Rosalie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I think it’s better if you see for yourself.”

* He hands you his blackberry, and the grainy image of you come into focus.

* It’s a YouTube video

* You’re in the locker room, your (Your Color Skin) in full view under the fluorescent lights. You’re wearing your underwear, and your abs are on full display. You’re Grey PE uniform shirt is limp in your hands, you remember this, you got extra laps as a penalty and as a result, you were running late for class, you were alone in the locker room

*well you thought you were alone.

* Your body is literally perfect, the way you’ve always dreamed, but you feel white hot shame rise in your throat like acid.

* Your hands shake as you scroll down to see the comments

* ‘Damn who knew they had a body like that under those dorky sweaters’

* ‘(Y/N) Eleazar: Best body Forks HS 10/10 would f*ck’

* ‘Hot body, if only they ditched the glasses, and started wearing some tighter shirts’

* And the comments go on, there’s at least a hundred. You hold your cardigan a little closer to your body. You don’t have the courage to turn around. You can already imagine them staring at you, picturing what they saw in the video transposed onto your body

* “I’m sorry, I didn’t see this coming until it was already happening-“ Alice touches your shoulder and continues her apology but you don’t hear anything.

* You want to cry, you want to be angry. But all you feel is shame. And the worst part is, you didn’t even do anything wrong. So why do you feel so ashamed?

* “Hey, look at me.” Edward grabs your face in his hands, your amber eyes meet his.

*”Snap out of it.”

* Oh, your powers are leaking through.

*Your gaze turns to your foster family, all of whom sport equally uncomfortable expressions.

* You take a deep breath, and imagine reeling in your emotions, imagining them receding back into a locked box, just like Eleazer taught you.

* You need a calm mind right now.

* “Are you fine now?” Edward asks, his hands still on your face. You nod, resting your hand on top of his

* “I’m good.”

* “Good, because we have to get you out of here.” He’s moved his hand to your arm, about to tug you back home when you pull back and shake your head.

* “We can’t do that.”

* “What do you mean?” Rosalie hisses, her hand curls around your wrist “we have to leave NOW.”

* “No think about it, they’re right.” Jasper says, his eyes meeting yours. At least someone’s on the same oage

* “Think about it Rose, if I leave now with all of you it’s going to look weird.” Normal 15-17 year olds wouldn’t think to handle the situation on their own, especially not entitled rich kids like the Cullen’s.

*She seems to have gotten it because her hand retreats to her side.

* “Well what should we do then, I’m not letting you walk around here with everyone-“ she cuts herself off, a deep frown creasing onto her face as her teeth dig into her bottoms lip.

* “We need to call Carlisle or Esme, they’ll pretend they saw the video from someone else and file a complaint with the school.” You take a deep breath, and imagine the locked box in your mind. Your emotions held carefully within.

* “Until then we all need to pretend like it’s not a big deal.”

* “No way in hell am I doing that!” Emmett growls. “I’m going to rip that fucking peeping Tom piece by piece.”

* “Not all of us need to pretend,” Alice says, her gaze somewhere far away, flicking between futures. “Only Edward, Rosalie and I do.” Her gaze lands on you.

* “You need to go to your class like normal,” a hint of a smile curls onto her mouth. “Everything’s going to work out fine.” Edward’s focusing on Alice, reliving her vision.

* “Do you think you can manage being alone?” Edward asks, you don’t have the next class with any of the Cullen’s. You’ll be on your own.

* You catch Jasper and Alice whispering to each other, but pay it no mind. Flirting even in the middle of your entire world crumbling down.

* You take a deep breath, picturing the locked box over and over, making it a visual mantra.

* “I can get through a period.” Everyone disperses, and Jasper walks you to your next class. Edward wanted to, but Jasper insisted.

*”You’re always hogging them, give someone else a few minutes Edward.”

* You’re almost near your class when Jasper talks to you.

* “Hey, I don’t know if I should tell you this”

*You wonder if he’s going to offer to beat up the person who took the video, or if he’s going to offer you a comforting word.

* “Alice told me you’re going to raise some hell on a misogynist in there” he gives you a wicked grin, his incisors sparkling.

* How is it that every vampire seems to say what you least expect to hear and yet, it’s exactly what you need in the moment.

* He holds out his fist, and you bump it with your own. A grin curling onto your face.

* “Hell yeah I am.”

* You take your usual seat in Spanish like normal. You sit in the front row in this class, diagonally from Jessica. Mike and Angela sit somewhere in the back.

* You just need to focus and keep your emotions in check for 45 minutes. You visualize the box, calming yourself separating the mind and body.

* How did the saying go... a calm soul resides in a calm body?

* “-Zar, Miss. Eleazar!” Your eyes pop up to the teacher, the locked box falling out of grasp.

* “Yes, sorry?” The teacher sighs, you look to the white board to see you’re going over the answers to the worksheet. You’re about to provide the answer for the number you’re on when the teacher cuts you off.

* “I know you might be focused on body building, but in my class you need to focus on the material.” There’s a scattered laugh that fills the room, but your blood runs cold

* “Excuse me?”

* And that’s when your teacher knew he fucked up. He stutters over himself, the sentences overlapping

* “-really you should take it as a compliment-“

* “Oh you think I should take it as a compliment that someone recorded me without my consent while I was changing?”

* The rooms pin drop silent. Your teacher is sweating.

* “Hold on now- I think you’re being a little dramatic don’t you think” A smirk curls onto his lips. “You were in your underwear, it was really no different than wearing a swimsuit” he’s got this smug smile, like he’s right.

*Honestly you were ready to put everything behind you and move on if he just apologized. It’s gross that a teacher is watching videos of a student changing, but what would you have done in his situation if a co-worker showed you.

* “It’s all about perspective, a positive per-“

* But not anymore, you’re not in a forgiving mood, especially not for an idiot like this.

* “No it’s all about consent.” All the anger and despair you’ve been holding back comes flooding out. “When someone wears a swimsuit they’re consenting to show skin and be seen, but I wasn’t contesting to being seen when I was changing in the privacy of the locker room.” You don’t stop for air, your voice trembling

* “And another thing, I wonder how the school administration will feel knowing the same faculty that’s supposed to make students feel safe and enrich their lives is watching creepy videos-“ you stop when you meet your teachers eyes, tears streaming down his face.

* Oh f*ck

* You look to your right, finding your classmates in a similar state, holding back tears.

*So this is what happens to humans when they come in contact with your power.

* You try to visualize the box, but it’s too far now. And all the crying people around you don’t help.

*You need to get out of here.

* “Pathetic, not even an apology for your gas lighting.” She shake your head as confidently as you can, grabbing your bag with trembling hands.

* You walk quickly, maybe there’s a mountain you can climb and wait it out on. You’ll text Carlisle and let him now what happened. It shouldn’t be too-

*” Hey wait!”

* You’re already in the hallway when someone call out to you. You turn, expecting it to be Angela or Mike. Never in a million years would you expect her to be standing there in the middle of the hall, her hand hastily wiping away a stray tear.

* “Mr. Peterson’s a f*cking jerk.” Jessica sniffles, walking quickly to catch up with you. You don’t miss the fact that her bags not slung across her back.

* She must have left a minute after you did. You haven’t thought about her as a friend. Not a real one at least. She’s kind of like hot sauce, it’s fun when it’s around, but if it’s not then that’s not a big deal.

* So to see her here, the first to follow you out, rambling about wether you want to get frozen yogurt or pizza, it warms your unbeating heart.

* “Hey Jessica?” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes swinging up to you.

* You haven’t been fair to her. But you’re going to change that.

* “Thanks for being my friend.” And she smiles at you, her arms wrapped around her tight. It’s not the fake ones you see often the ones she throws to Lauren when she’s asking for Jessica’s opinion on an outfit, or when Connor tries to copy her homework’s. it’s a genuine smile.

* Before she can open her mouth, you hear two more shouts from the hallway.

*Angela and Mike are jogging down the hallway to catch up with you. The latter carrying a bright pink backpack in his hand.

* “Geez Jess, the least you could do is take your bag before you go bolting out of there” Mike’s panting as he holds out her bag. You don’t miss the blush ghosting her face.

*Looks like she still has a crush on him.

* “Hey, are you okay?” Angela asks, and you wish you could cry as you nod.

* “Is it weird that I’m kind of happy right now?” And the three of them smile, before wrapping you into a group hug.

*They all smell terrible. Jessica smells like boiled broccoli, Mike is like the overwhelming stench of fat mixed with sugar, and Angela.. Angela’s probably the worst. She’s sickeningly sweet mixed with a healthy dose of starch.

*it’s disgusting. You have a hard time believing any of the Cullen’s would lose their minds when they’re this close to any of them.

*still, even with the repulsive stench, it’s nice. You haven’t felt the body gets of another human in a long time, or heard the quiet thump of their beating heart. Even the odor is nice, it reminds you that they’re human.

*And for a second it’s easier to pretend you’re human too, just like them.

* “Dude why are you so cold?” Jessica groans, breaking the moment. She taps your arm but doesn’t pull away.

* “While we’re asking questions, Mike how much axe do you use?” Angela’s eyes are watering as you both laugh.

* “Like you’re one to talk, I can smell your strawberry shampoo two hallways over!”

* You watch the three of them untangle and start walking to the back exit from the gym.

* “So where do we go now? We can’t stay here.” Angela says

* “I was thinking maybe a coffee shop, if we take out books we might pass for having a free period” Jessica pipes in

* “Oh, how about the Arcade? A buddy of mine works there since he’s already on break from college, I don’t think he’ll minds us hanging out there.”

* So this is what Alice meant when she said everything was going to be okay.

*Your Human Friends were going to save you

*You haven’t forgotten Edward’s warning, someone did break your trust and let you down.

* But that’s what it means to build friendships, you open yourself to being hurt, and so do they.

* “Hey (Y/N/N), what do you think?” Mike asks, and they all turn around to notice you’re not walking with them.

*You try not to smile to wide. You don’t want to scare them off now.

* “I think there’s something fun about an arcade during the day, no lines.” You say, walking a little bit faster to catch up with your friends.

Tag list: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 16.

Series Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 5700+

A/N: This chapter is going to give us quite a bit of background information and some throwback memories. I really enjoyed writing this one and creating a past for these characters. All of them. Let me know what you think! I’m so excited to share this one with you all:)

Chapter Sixteen:

“You know, I thought that we were close enough that you could come to me with this kind of thing. That you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide it from me. Y/N and you both,” he said with pursed lips. “Guess I was wrong.” 

With that he turned back and walked to his car. Bucky watched as he started the engine, pulled out, and disappeared. 

What the hell kind of mess just happened?

Bucky stood there for a second. He couldn’t wrap his head around what just went down in the slightest. Steve was no longer angry at him, he caught onto that. Or at least he thought that was the case. 

No, Steve was disappointed. That was far worse than hatred coming from your best friend. Coming from anyone really, but the person you’ve been joined at the hip to, for 26 years? Yeah. That punches you in the gut and knocks all the wind out of you.

Eventually, remembering Y/N was upstairs probably pacing the ground and biting her nails not knowing what was happening, he started moving to the back porch steps. 

He wasn’t even three steps into the kitchen before Y/N was around the corner rushing to him.

“What happened?” she said looking up at him and instantly putting her hands around his upper arm. “Is that blood? Did he hit you?” she said gently, but urgently as she grazed over the split lip. “Oh, I’m going to murder him,” she said through her teeth, immediately moving to the back door. 

Bucky caught her by the waist and pulled her back into him. 

“Don’t. Don’t. He’s not out there. He left,” he explained as he tugged her back into the kitchen.

“He left? He just punched you and left?” she questioned. A fire in her eyes swirling just as much as the storm Steve had in his earlier. The types of rage are completely opposite, but at the same time just as furious.

“We talked after he punched me, but can’t say I didn’t deserve it.” Disappointment dripped from his own words.

“You didn’t deserve it, B. No one deserves getting punched about something like this.” The fire started to dim as she focused her energy back on the brunette that still had her wrapped in his arms by her waist. His eyes downcast, looking as if in another world. “Hey, talk to me. What happened?” Gently she brought her hand to his cheek and convinced him to look at her. “Talk to me, please.”

They moved to the living room and sat on the couch facing each other. Bucky had almost seemed distant, as though touching or being close to her now was a crime. No doubt Steve’s words had an effect on him in the moment.

He explained pieces of what happened. Mainly just how Steve was upset thinking they were sleeping together, and when he cleared that up, he had just expressed his disappointment of the two. He was upset and deeply hurt that they felt like they had to hide this from him.

“Could he blame us though? He literally split your lip after finding out,” she motioned to him, scooting closer to place the ice covered by a washcloth they got earlier, to his lip. 

“I’ve taken harder hits, doll. And even if he got me pretty good, I could tell he was holding back at least some.” He placed his hand over hers and sent a sad smile before taking the homemade ice pack for himself. 

“This is going to be hard to come back from with him, isn’t it?” she asked, saddened by the pain she caused her brother. Bucky could see multiple thoughts running through her head as her eyes moved back and forth while looking down. “We aren’t going to end this though, are we?” 

Her tone broke Bucky’s heart hearing her say that. The pain, worry, and complete devastation of the idea was playing like a movie in her eyes. 

“What? No!” he said, quickly shutting that idea down as he dropped the rag and grabbed both her hands. “I love Steve and I would do anything for him, but I have to draw a line- Well, I have to draw a line when it affects my happiness.” She looked at him hopeful. “In the end, I know he’ll come around. I’m not going to lose you just because of this hiccup. Sure, I don’t really know how long Steve’s going to hate me, but we’ll work it through. Nothing can hurt us that bad. You know that.”

“I do, but it still worries me.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. Really, he’ll come around. It’ll just take time.”

___________________

And boy was it taking its sweet ass time…

Two weeks had passed. Bucky and Y/N still went about their love life the same way. Not wanting to rub it in Steve’s face, they steered clear of Bucky’s shared home with him. Bekah had been talking to a guy herself, and spent a lot of nights over there, so they took advantage of her empty apartment when they could. 

Luckily they wouldn’t have to worry about that too long as Y/N was looking into renting a flat herself to get some of her independence back from coming home. Of course, she worried about her mom, but Sarah was sweet and said she understood and was excited for her. She was taking more shifts at the hospital anyway, so they rarely saw each other with their opposite schedules. Sarah did make her promise Sunday dinners to continue, as it was tradition. 

Speaking of, Steve had conveniently had a work thing come up each time, so he had missed the past two weeks. 

“This is so unlike him. He usually moves his work schedule around Sunday dinners, not the other way around,” Sarah sighed as she handed a bowl of a roast over to her daughter. 

“He’s not too happy with me, Ma. I think he’s avoiding me,” she mumbled. She was all happy to be over before her mom mentioned him.  

“Why would he do that? You just got home a little over 2 months ago. That’s barely anytime I would hope for you two to start a fight up. Let alone one that I’m realizing is going on two weeks,” she said with a knowing look as she sat across from Y/N.

“It’s hard to explain. He has a good reason, but he’s also being childish about it,” she said poking at the potatoes and beef on her plate. An old irish recipe. 

“Hmmm, I see.” Causally, Sarah went back to eating as if her understanding wasn’t questionable. 

“You see? What exactly do you see?” she asked tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at her mom. She knew that look. It was the, ‘mom knows everything, even if you think she doesn’t,’ look.

“It’s quite obvious to anyone who has eyes, but I’m not going to put my comments where they don’t belong.” Again, so casual as she took a drink of water and went back to eating. 

“Sarah Rogers, you little spy. What do you know?” Y/N chuckled. Her tone was joking, but deep down intrigued. 

“Why don’t you say it dear? I don’t want to have my foot in my mouth if I’m wrong,” she gestured. “Not that I’ll be wrong, but I’ll give you a chance,” she winked. 

She eyed her mom for a second. The two sending the same stares and telepathically talking.

Then it hit her. 

“Oh my GOD! You know?!” Y/N jumped almost out of her seat, but considering the table was in the way, she sat up straight and hit her knee. “Ow, shit.”

“Language,” her mom chided. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “But you knew?” her disbelief coming back. “How long have you-?”

“Lord, as soon as Bucky set his eyes on you coming home. I mean of course I wasn’t there when you saw each other for the first time after all these years, but when we had dinner that night? He was practically fawning over you,” Sarah shrugged, going back to her meal.

“He was?”

“Plain as day, Mini. Though, I wouldn’t put it past you to not notice, considering he acted almost the same when you two were in highschool.”

“What?!” Y/N jumped again. Her food was long forgotten. 

“Actually at that point, I think you both were blind to it. Bucky may not even known back then,” she tilted her head.

“Okay mom, you’re throwing a lot of things at me at once. I can’t keep up, can you elaborate some?” Y/N threw her hands up as if to stop her from moving forward anymore.

“Where to start?” Sarah put her silverware down and brought her elbows up on the table before interlocking her fingers and looking off as if watching the scenes replay in front of her. 

“Freshman year, you were part of the crew that was in charge of the cancer carnival to raise all the money for that charity. You had come home and were going on and on and on about all the different ways you had come up to raise that money. Photobooths, dunk tanks, crazy games, snowcones, and all that fun stuff. Bucky and Steve had just come in from playing basketball in the driveway and were getting something to drink. Steve laughed as you went on and teased you about how you should be put in the dunk tank, and Bucky just had this look in his eye. Pure admiration for your excitement for that specific cause. That and you told your brother off showing even more how dedicated you were.”

“That was oddly specific…” 

“Oh, I’m just getting started…” Sarah had a devilish amused look on her face. “But I guess I’ll just stick with one for each year.” She waved off. “Sophomore year, you were invited to prom from an upperclassman. Who was it?”

“Peter Quill. Ugh, I remember that. He ended up ditching me that night halfway through the prom.”

“Hmm mm, Steve had called saying they were leaving early to bring you home. You were upset and bored not knowing really anyone else there.”

“I honestly had only said yes because I wanted to go to the dance with another upperclassman and rub it in Brock’s face at the time. Bucky and Steve were seniors, so they were there too…” She thought back. Her chin in her hand as she listened to the stories. 

“Well, Steve brought you home and Bucky was with him. I guess Bucky’s girlfriend at the time had the flu or something and couldn’t go, so they went with a group of guys.” Sarah got a little sidetracked, but quickly reeled in it. “Anyway, when the night was over, they had already planned on going to Bucky’s for the night. However, I came around the corner after they dropped you off and were about to head back out, and I saw Bucky was convincing Stevie to stay here that night.”

“What? That’s why they were here? I remember that actually... There was an after party at another seniors house.” Sarah raised an eyebrow knowing what happened after parties, but not knowing that was where her son had originally planned to go. “Sorry, but you know how high schoolers are. Don’t act shocked,” she chuckled. “I remember them going, but they came home pretty early.”

“Wonder why…” Sarah sighed to herself taking another bite of food before it got cold. 

Not hearing her, Y/N went on. 

“Bucky and I talked that night at like 1 in the morning to like 4. We ran into each other in the kitchen getting a late night snack, and it turned into a whole deep talk,” she thought back. “One of the few times we had a conversation like adults instead of pushing each other's buttons.”

“Yes, and you were so stunned and surprised by it, you gushed about it to me later,” Sarah nodded. “Little did you know, you had woken me up at the time and when I came to see what all the noise was in the kitchen, you and Bucky were laughing about something on the kitchen floor with your backs propped up on the cabinets. A stash of junk food sitting between you two as you talked.”

“But what does that have to do with-?”

“I came in when you were going on and on about a new history topic that you had dived into that month. You didn’t even notice him with wide eyes and absolute fondness for how smart and passionate you were on the subject. You were too busy talking to notice, I’m sure,” she laughed. 

Y/N had to think back a little further for that memory, but it popped up. “Oh God, I was going on about the progression of execution styles in the Roman times,” she threw her head in her hands of embarrassment. 

“Yeah, crazy thing to be looking at a girl like that in that kind of conversation. Talking about chopping people’s heads off wouldn’t be something I see a boy fawning over, and he looked at you like it was the most amazing story to be told. But then again, there he was. Completely blind himself.”

“Wow… I forgot about that moment. I remember the night, but some details are a little fuzzy. Not that one…” she whispered. 

“And the way you talked about it the next day? You had the same look. Subtle and hidden, but deep down I could see the wonder in your eyes.”

Y/N smiled as she leaned forward like a child at story time. “What about Junior year?”

“Let’s see. By then Bucky and Steve had gone overseas. We didn’t see much of them…”  Sarah was slightly saddened. She was proud of her son in those moments, but the fear and worry that comes with sending a child into war isn’t that fond of a feeling. 

Y/N reached across grabbing her moms hand and giving her an encouraging soft smile. Clearing her throat she started again.

 “In saying that, there may have been a moment in person, but they only came back for a month that whole year. I didn’t like that year,” she shook her head. “Who sent you all those letters though?” She asked looking back with that same knowing look. 

“Steve… and Bucky. I wrote to them both, and I was surprised when Bucky asked me to write to him as well.”

“Didn’t expect that one, hmm?” Sarah smiled. “I don’t know what was written in them, for all I know he was just sending you jokes and teasing you from over the sea like your brother did here and there... But I have a feeling there were some personal things said too.” 

“I actually kept all of those. They are in a box in my room. I have Steves in there too,” she smiled fondly as if she had completely forgotten them. Though she could never actually do that. She remembers very well all the excitement of running and checking the mail in hopes of another one being delivered. From both of them. 

Her mom was right, there were a few teasing and goofy ones, but the longer he was over there, the more serious they got. There were some crazy terrifying stories and confessions to fear in those. He had mentioned he was only writing to his family and her, but she always wondered why he sent her things like that and not his family. 

She had asked Becca once about a letter they had received, and they were sweet, but they disguised the sense of fear and longing to be home. He didn’t want his family to worry. 

That’s when Y/N started taking their writing more seriously. She would practically let him vent and write out all his struggles and frustrations while over there, and Y/N would send back distractions of random history facts (which by the way, he asked for personally even if he jested her at home for them). Then she would tell him about her week, something else he asked for, and try to send words of wisdom and reassurance for his time. 

He appreciated those and Y/N appreciated him trusting her with those thoughts. It’s not like he could send them to Steve when Steve was going through his own war over there with him.

How did she not pick up on the rise of finding respect for the other during then? The start of full-on admiration. 

“Those letters stopped coming in the next year,” Y/N deflated in her spot. The next wave of memories contained her senior year. “Well, they came, but I never could get around to writing back with everything happening.”

“You’re graduate year… Steve came back home after we got the news. It took him a while to get approved, but they dismissed him from duty out of how much he had already served in his short time there. Brave man, your brother,” she says chuckling to cover the tears that were already forming in her eyes. Her daughter's eyes matched. She grabbed her hand again, this time giving it a loving squeeze. “That was a very hard year for all of us.”

“Steve came back, but Bucky had to stay. But he somehow got time off for a few weeks to come visit…”

“Remember his first visit?” Sarah said with a sad smile.

Thinking back to that time of grief and sadness, she really had to dig. She didn’t really dust off those memories often. It wasn’t really a time you would want to look back on.

“The hospital,” Y/N eventually said in a hushed airless whisper. “How did I forget that?”

“Those were moments one doesn’t really want to recall often,” Sarah said with a new tear falling. She had a smile on her face, but it was sad and soft. Nothing stemming from joy. 

“We had just got the word,” she gasped faintly, trying to suck back the air that had left her body thinking of the horrible night. “After the surgery, one of too many, the doctors told us…” Taking a second, she hadn’t said this in a while as the family was hush hush when talking about the last days. “We only had a few months with him.”

________________________

5 years ago: 

“He… He wha-?” Steve stammered out. “But he was in remission, not too long ago. He was fine!”

He was furious with the new information. He knew there was a chance of these specific results as his father had a new surgery every month for the cancer. Trying to locate it, trying to cut it out, trying to shrink it, trying to get rid of it with all their might. Every surgery you go in, you’re about to learn if it’s worse or better. And this? This was the worse they had gotten yet. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. You know I don’t want to tell you this news, but cancer is a horrible horrible demon we have to face in this world unfortunately,” the doctor said. He had been with them the whole journey so the family had grown rather close with Bruce Banner. Someone their father actually worked alongside with. “Just when you’re doing better, it changes things up. I will say with all the past surgeries, we probably got you a few more months then expected. We believe a few months ago, without the treatment he's undergone so far, he would no longer be here with us today.”

“So we bought him a few months. What does that matter for, if it didn’t fix it all?” Steve shouted. The anger wasn’t toward the doctor. He knew that and they knew that. But he needed someone to blame for the shit he was being handed. He couldn’t just yell at the universe. 

“Steven,” Sarah had said softly. Speaking for the first time since Steve had started his rant. “Calm down honey. Shouting and screaming isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Nothing’s going to get us anywhere apparently,” he hissed. His hand coming up on his head as he looked up. After a second, he harshly ran his hand down his face and looked at his mom again. He could see her guard start to fall and Steve couldn’t handle having to be strong for them right now. He was too hurt. It was too painful. He was going to break and he couldn’t let them see him do that. “Ugh, I need air. I need to get some air. I-I can’t-.” With that, he walked in long strides to the elevator and the exit. 

Sarah shook her head at the tears escaping without her consent. Turning to Y/N, she saw her youngest looking slightly downwards, frozen. Her nails were already being bitten from her nervous tick, and her eyes showing she was no longer on this earth mentally.

“Y/N,” Sarah said, taking a deep breath and standing taller. “Why don’t you go wait in the waiting room? Sit down, ok. I’m just going to talk to Dr. Banner real fast, hmm?” 

No answer. She patted her shoulder making him jump slightly as if she had never consciously been there to start. She gave her a nod and Y/N nodded back and started mindlessly heading to the waiting room with her arms folded tight across her body for comfort. Any comfort…

“Y/N?” 

She had been mindlessly looking at the ground in the chair she sat in. She couldn’t tell if it had been 5 minutes or an hour later from leaving the room with her mom.

“Y/N/N?”

That finally got her attention and she turned to see Bucky standing with his helmet in hand and jean jacket half-hazardly shifting off his shoulder from racing in from his bike. 

“B-Buck?” she said softly sitting straighter. 

Bucky sent her a sad smile as he walked to her, but he made it about 4 steps before she was running into his arms and clinging to him like he was air itself. 

“They can’t help him, Buck,” she finally said after crying for a few minutes while he ran a hand down her back softly and let her get it all out. “They said they can’t do anything further,” she pulled back enough to look up. Her arms around his middle and his around her shoulders. “We have a few months…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bucky sighed, finally getting the news he was waiting to hear, but this wasn’t what he was ready for. He could feel her heartbeat get faster, and at first, he just thought it was the hint to another crying session about to erupt. 

In which case, bring it on. He wanted to help her like she had helped him with all those letters of support. But then he noticed her start to slightly hyperventilate. He knew what those two combos usually come out to and he wished he didn’t.  

He brought her to a chair he was planning on sitting her in, but instead she plopped herself on the ground. Bucky instantly moved down there with her and looked her over. 

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. You’re ok. I got you. Take a deep breath,” he said, bringing her to sit in his lap and hugged her as tight as he could. The feeling of pressure was a calming mechanism for anxiety attacks. 

“I-I c-c-an’t,” she stuttered out with hiccups that were forming from her lungs needing air. 

“Yes, you can. Focus, doll.” He started doing the breathing exercises himself as a way to guide her since their bodies were intertwined. She needs to sync to his breathing. 

She stuttered a little, but her breathing was slowly calming down. 

“That’s it… You’ve got it. In and out,” he coached, feeling with each sentence she relaxed more and more. “You’re ok. I got ya. You’re doing great Y/N.”

Eventually she was back to normal. Well, not really. An anxiety attack like that is the kind that leaves you winded afterwards. Completely draining you from energy. 

He sat there and rocked her gently in their spot. Her back backed up to his chest and Bucky’s legs spread out with hers inside them as he kept his arms wrapped around her torso. The pressure helps, it really does. 

He whispered reassuring words while he played with her hair and then she leaned back and was reaching peak calmness. She turned her head on his shoulder and he looked down at her with his crystal eyes. Their faces inches apart, but nothing other than sorrow in their body.

“They said to be glad we had that long with him as every minute counts. Make all the memories you can in that time...” She closed her eyes for a second taking another deep breath before looking back at him. “How can you make memories you would want to have not so sad knowing the exact day your father could die? What good memories come from that?”

Bucky physically felt her heart in her chest break as if they shared the same one. The emotion he was reading in her eyes this time was one of the few that Bucky could never pinpoint. It was fear, sadness, depression, and longing all rolled into a scared Y/E/C eye colored girl’s orbs.

“You’re allowed to be upset Y/N. You don’t have to fake happiness during this time. Your emotions are there to be felt... But at the end of the day, would you want to look back at more fake happy memories or true and real happiness?” Bucky said. 

She wanted to make the next days her unhappy ones and leave it at that. He was right, she should and could feel sad and mad now. This situation called for it. But she didn’t want them to take up the majority of her last memories with her dad.

“Hey, you got Stevie and I,” he whispered in her ear as she turned forward again. 

“Steve just yelled at our doctors for almost 15 minutes straight from deniel and then ran out the door like a sissy,” her voice monotone, but he could hear the upset nature behind her words. “Steve’s just as messed up as me.”

“One, you’re not messed up in the least. Two, you are human. Shitty things happen and we have to go through it in each our own way. Three, no grieving process is the same. You’re allowed to scream in your pillow cause you're mad. Or cry for hours on end because you can’t comprehend it. You’re allowed to go eat a whole pint of ice cream by yourself because you're sad. Hell, I’ll join ya,” he squeezed her hand that he had interlocked together on their right side. A light start of a chuckle came out and she squeezed it back. 

“As long as you don’t insist on Rocky Road.”

“Really? I’m coming to your cry session and you’re banning me from my favorite ice cream? Some cry party,” he faked hurt. 

She let out an actual laugh and turned back to him. “I may have a cry party or two…” He nodded, showing he was proud of her for feeling that was ok and agreed with it. Her eyes showed the actual sadness behind the temporary humor, it was still there swimming around. Her smile wasn’t masking anything. “I guess you can pick your flavor you want to binge on. I get to judge you though if it sucks,” she joked.

She was distracting herself and he was ok with that. He would keep in that direction as long as she needed. And right now, she didn’t want to think about the inevitable. Remember, more happy than sad at the end. 

“What brand are we going for?” she asked. He wrapped his arms over her shoulders as she laid back on his chest in their sitting position. Her arms holding onto them in the front like the anchor that he was acting like. 

“Um, is that even a question?” he gasped. “I have good taste, Miss. Rogers. What brand do you think I go for?” 

“I’m going to say with that pretentiousness, that it’s Ben and Jerry’s,” she grinned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nothing beats Ben and Jerry’s,” he nodded proud in his choice.

“Ok, but hear me out… Halo.” He looked at her like she was crazy. “It's like low calorie ones that are really good and kinda healthier than regular ice cream.”

“Darling, if I’m bingeing on some ice cream, you bet your ass I’m going to go all out. No low cal, shit. I want all the brownie batter.”

“Geez, you really are an ice cream snob,” she laughed more. “Guess you’ll have to try mine though because I promise you’ll join the dark side.”

“Dark side?” he asked. 

“Yeah, cause you’re eating healthy while eating ice cream, one of the most sugared things to exist. Actually, get this, In the 1880’s they invented the sundae, and after that, the amount of sugar we started adding to our toppings every decade, just kept going up in sugar.” When she finished her little fact splurge, Bucky was looking down at like she was crazy, but still smiling. 

“You’re strange, you know that? What normal person memorizes random facts like the year the ice cream sundae was invented? Or, what was it the other day?” he thought back.

“Oh, how the entire earth’s population can fit inside Los Angeles,” she remembered. “Then that led to talking about global warming, and then-…”She began listing off all the random things that followed after another. 

Her mom had peaked out the curtain 5 minutes ago to check on Y/N, and found her wrapped up in his arms comforted and then eventually laughing. They needed a little joy that night. So she took in every laugh Y/n let out followed by Bucky laughing or joking. Every single one is what got her through that night…

________________

“That’s when you saw it?” Y/N asked awestruck. She did remember that. That was one of her core memories with Bucky. She always glimpsed back to it when she was sad. It was advice she took seriously. You choose how many bad days you have. Choose wisely. 

“That’s when I knew it,” Sarah corrected. 

“Knew it? I thought you were talking about how he looked at me differently. What do you mean, knew it?” she asked, confused. 

“I had seen it all the time, but that’s when I knew he was head over heels for you. Seeing these things warmed my heart, but knowing it, gave me a whole new hope. As long as Bucky was there, you would be ok. He would make sure of that.”

“I thought that was so much longer ago…” Y/N said. “I guess I repressed it.”

“Bucky was your rock from day one, sweetheart. As soon as the world got dangerous for you, he became a huge protector over you. He checked in on you when he came over, he made you laugh, he knows how to push your buttons, but you love it. He’s a good kid Y/N.”

“I know. Which brings me to Steve being an ass and throwing a hissy fit about it.”

“Your brother is in shock right now. It was something he clearly did not see a mile away. Learning about it made him a little upset. I’ll talk to him.”

“Ma, I don’t need you to talk to him. You do that and he’ll be even more mad and think I tattle taled on him. Child,” she huffed. 

“Fine, then you better tell him. Because like it or not, I’m going to have my family dinners on Sunday, and I want BOTH of my children there. Not just one every once and awhile. Plus, you’re moving out in just a few weeks so I need you to get this done cause I’ll miss you,” she smirked. 

“Ok…” Y/N groaned basically being told to apologize and make amends to her big brother by her mom. She wouldn’t put it past her mom to ban Y/n from late night reading for punishment of not fixing it. She’d done it in highschool. She’ll do it again. “I’ll talk to him as soon as I can corner him. He’s been avoiding Bucky and I like the plague.”

“Well, then let’s set a trap.”

“Mom!”

“What? You need to fix it sooner rather than later and I want my kids to not hate each other. So, I’ll invite him over tomorrow for a makeup dinner and say you’re going out and won’t be here,” she started planning. “He won’t say no because I won’t let him. So he’ll come and you stay in your room until we’re settled, and then ta-da! He’s trapped.”

“Did you have this already typed up or something?” Y/N pulled back curiously shocked. Shaking her head out at her crazy organized mom. “Who’s to say he doesn’t stand up and walk out? I could about 99% see it going that way,” she nodded. 

“Honey, I’ll be home. He’s not leaving. Not while I’m here at least,” she winked. 

“You should become a serial killer as a side hobby. They would never catch you with how well planned out you are,” she teased her mom. 

“I thought about it once, but didn’t go my way,” Sarah stood up walking to the sink, winking.

“Mom! You’re on a roll tonight,” Y/N laughed loudly, throwing a little pea at her. 

“Hey, you make my kitchen floor a mess, and I may reconsider that side hobby,” she said pointing to the pea rolling away. 

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Y/N chuckled.

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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[ktheist]

finale — show me yours & i’ll show you mine

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 2.1k

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. 

“show me yours and i’ll show you mine.”

x

“be nice," taehyung mouths across from you as he sits next to mina.

the red handprints on his cheeks becoming more apparent with each passing minute. it was half-believable to say taehyung fell face first in the snow, got stuck there for more than two minutes and voila, sported a red face upon your return to the kim’s.

but now, you’re just lucky no one’s pointing out the very obvious palm shaped mark on his pudgy cheeks as he stuffs his face with food.

“oh, mina, do you have any plans tomorrow? you could stay over and spend christmas morning with us," mrs kim asks as she passes the bowl of the roasted potatoes seokjin’s been boasting about.

“o-oh,” the brunette stammers, holding the fork with both hands as if citing a prayer of hope, “no, i couldn’t intrude on you any longer.”

“no such thing, we’re all family here.” mrs kim waves a dismissive hand and even that brief gesture feels warm, “___’s mother and i have known your mother since we were kids and i watch you two grow up with my boys - you’re basically  daughters i never had,” she shoots you a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.

not seeing the remark coming, you end up almost choking on the mushroom soup you’re just in the middle of enjoying.

“i can’t say i’d love to have tae as a sibling but here we are,” you jest, half-heartedly while laughter erupts from everyone at the table.

if there’s a god, please don’t let mrs kim find out i fucked her oldest son.

“i heard yuukal co is interested in your flower arrangements and wanna buy exclusive rights to have you deliver them to the company whenever they have an event lined up?” namjoon chirps up, dimples digging into his cheek as he digs into his 

“the secretary of yuukal co was an acquaintance of mine in college, that’s probably why.” the brunette says shyly, pushing her hair to the back of her ear.

“so, you’re not planning on going back to college?” 

but it’s your voice that makes her blink once and stare at you like you’re some tricky math question.

“what- oh,” she shakes her head, as if shaking away the trance that delayed her response, “i don’t know, my major has nothing to do with what i want to do so i’m thinking of taking another year off.”

you nod casually. understandingly. “i’m sure the college has plenty of spots for people who actually wants to be there, i guess.”

it’s not a new low. but it’s a kind of low you never usually stoop to.

no one seems to notice though, as mina laughs. obviously uncomfortable by your remark, “haha yeah.”

“taehyung got offered a job at the company he interned in last year,” with a smack on the aforementioned boy’s back, seokjin proudly announces.

and just like that, taehyung takes the spotlight to himself.

“oh my god, that’s wonderful news. kim taehyung, when were you going to tell us?” mrs. kim is the first to say something, eyes brimming with anticipation as she looks at him, waiting for him to tell everyone at the table more about it.

but the fact of the matter is, kim taehyung is torn between working a nine-to-five, subsequently making his parents proud or going professional as a full time gamer.

he breathes out an ‘uh...’ before his lips curl into a forced smile.

“surprise?”

x

some time after dinner, you end up drinking and playing card games. mrs kim already went to bed and it's a hour past midnight and all four of your find yourselves in your house to not disturb the kim couples.

the grinch is playing in the background because you, taehyung and mina won against namjoon and seokjin who wanted to watch frozen.

“frozen is so unchristmasy,” taehyung complained.

though, at one point, you did backtrack a little - only a teensy bit - and sided with seokjin who looked like he just won a lottery when you casually say, “i mean frozen’s got that wintry feeling and christmas is in-”

“oh girl, not you choosing a man over your best friend,” taehyung started tickling your sides as giggles erupted from your lips while trying to beg for forgiveness.

 “okay! okay! i’m grinch team all the way!”

“is that allowed? yah! you can’t say that after converting to team frozen!” seokjin’s rebuttal sounded every bit casual.

in retrospect, him joining taehyung’s ticklish assault would have felt out of character had you not fucked behind taehyung’s back nor kissed like you were star crossed lovers just hours ago.

“two against one! not fair! seokjin- ah- hahahaha!” 

one good thing came out of it though: you ended up sitting next to seokjin. it made you a little too conscious of him - of his cologne, of his thigh that brushes against yours with every movement you make and pretend like it’s nothing and of the ghost of a touch of his pinky finger that lingers on your knee when he seemingly places a hand on his own knee. 

still, it’s the closest you could ever be in public and it’s enough to tell mina to back off.

she doesn’t seem to notice but her compliments are equally distributed to everyone in the room. she seems to be the giggly drunk. giggling at every single thing everyone say.

somewhere deep in your heart, you feel the guilt gnawing because of your uncalled for hostility.

“i better get home,” she starts to stand at 3:07 am and you wave a dismissive hand, “no, it’s so late. stay over. please. you promised to make me your special hot chocolate in the morning.”

she objects at first like she turned down mrs kim’s invitation to spend christmas morning at the kim’s. and that’s how you know your views have been blinded with jealousy to see mina for who she is - a cute, lovable girl who’d be the heroine of every romance novel there is.

“oh thank you, thank you!” her arms flail around before they wrap around you in a drunken hug.

you laugh, hugging back.

x

the memories of how you huddled together like children and fell asleep in the living room, is hazy but when you wake up - the time on your screen displaying a 6 something am - you find a blanket draped over your body.

the light from the kitchen pours over the living room but not enough to wake the slumbering bodies there.

seokjin shoots you a smile when he sees you ambling over to the dining table with hair pointing in every direction, eyes squinting trying to block out the light while holding the blanket around your shoulders.

“you’re working? jinnie, it’s christmas,” you whine, head resting on his shoulder, feeling your heartbeat skip at the small contact.

he chuckles, bumping his cheek against your head before you hear the sound the keyboard again.

you stay like that, blanket curled around your body, seokjin typing away at his laptop.

that is, until his velvet voice cuts through the silence.

“so... i reckon that red handprint on tae’s cheek isn’t because he fell face first in snow.”

“it was because i slapped him in the face,” you wave your injured hand that’s now wrapped with a panda printed band aid instead of the duck ones seokjin used in the beginning.

he takes your hand, making sure not to apply too much pressure on the injury and kisses the top of your hand, “why would you do that?”

your cheeks warm at the gesture but you clear your throat, trying to play it cool, “because he told me we looked good together after all that shit he put us through.”

silence lulls in once again.

it feels like the longest you’ve ever gone with your heart palpitating inside your chest and unspoken words hovering over you but not quite reaching the who they’re supposed to reach.

“do we?” seokjin muses.

“do we... what?” you ask despite having an inkling of what he means.

“look good.” he turns to you, one arm on the table, thumb brushing against your pinky finger.

“i don’t know- we never even took selfies together.” you shrug.

“i think our selfies would look cute,” he pauses, naturally pouty lips curling into a smile, “so cute that the guys in your dm’s would be devastated to know that you’re dating me.”

“i can’t... do this,” the words slip out of your mouth like a waterfall like it’s bound to pour out of your heart through your mouth at some point, “because taehyung was... right. i don’t have a love language - even if i did, it’d be being jealous of every girl that talks to you. lashing out at those girls even though it’s completely understandable why they’d have heart eyes when they talk to you because you’re just that amazing... and... and... you like me? why?”

seokjin’s eyes look like someone personally plucked stars from the sky and trap them in those dark brown irises.

no- actually, he’s looking at you like you’re the star and he’s the moon that shines silver white rays just to have you notice him.

“who’s to say i don’t get jealous?” he cups your face, brows furrowing like you’re a math question without a solution and he’s going mad trying to figure you out, “i get so jealous at the thought of guys sliding into your dm’s, let alone make a pass on you but then i thought ‘if she’s not looking at me then i just have to try harder to make her notice me’ and i might or might not’ve reciprocated mina’s passes to make you jealous...”

you feel the corners of your lips tugging into a smile as you smack his chest lightly, “ass.”

that earns a chuckle from the man before he goes on, “but i’m not even sure what my love language is either, last i used it, i ended up getting dumped because apparently i’m too boring.”

“you’re not boring...” red flashes in your vision as you spit out the word, offended, “your dad jokes are bad but that’s what makes them so lovable. you’re so tall but you’re a literal walking teddy bear. you have biggest, kindest heart... and you’re so hung.”

something devious and prideful flashes across his eyes for the briefest moment before he asks ever so softly, “yeah?”

“yes.” you take his hands and grip them tightly, wishing the touch would convey your feelings.

“isn’t that kind of your love language?” his thumb feels callous against your skin as he rubs circles on the back of your hand. but that’s what makes this feels real - an affirmation that you’re not dreaming, “so... show me more... show yours and i’ll show you mine.”

you’d want to say you share a deep, passionate kiss to seal your promise for each other. but when you open your eyes - not knowing when you closed it - you’re staring at the white ceiling with neon starry stickers tacked up on it. 

and seokjin?

he’s nowhere to be found.

the morning air sends shivers down your spine as you pull your blanket over your head, trying to tune out taehyung’s voice.

but the universe seems set on kicking your sleepy ass of your bed when the door swings open with a bang! 

“get up! get up! it’s christmas!” the tall boy literally screams in your ears before hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potato and setting you down on the toilet in the bathroom with a “you better wash your face by the time i come back!”

you do as told.

eventually.

since the presents are all set under the christmas tree at the kim’s and you’re not looking to upload a christmas morning story in mismatched pj’s, you change into a cute totoro onesie.

mr and mrs kim got mina - she thanked you for letting her stay over last night even though you woke up to an empty house, she even has different clothes on than last night - new kits for the florist.

taehyung almost hugged you to death when he unwrapped his new ps5 that he’s been dying for.

namjoon got a new pair of gucci loafers from taehyung and booked an interrogation slot with their mother because-

“kim taehyung, where did you get all this money?”

you suspect he’s going to reveal his gaming channel to her where he got sponsors from to buy namjoon those loafers.

and seokjin gifted you with a heartshaped necklace as well as a new pc set for taehyung and a signed book of namjoon’s favorite writer that he’d been talking about for ages as well as an all expense paid trip for his parents to thailand.

“thanks for the necklace,” you lightly bump seokjin’s elbow as you come to stand next to him at the sink. he’s washing the mug he used for hot coffee.

he steals a glance at his family and mina in the living room. they’re laughing over taehyung having his head down, sitting on his calves like he’s asking for the forgiveness of a lifetime after confessing that he didn’t want to work a nine-to-five and wanted to go pro.

then his eyes find yours again. the glint in them makes your heart stop before he leans down, lips brushing yours ever so gently yet very seokjin-like.

you think your heart just burst as you freeze in your spot, staring up at the man with slightly parted lips and warm cheeks like a high school girl whose crush very obviously hinted he likes her back.

he raises a quizzical brow at your reaction before realization settles on his face and his lips curve into a smirk, “what? did you think last night was all a dream?”

x

taglist.  @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii​ @kimmieloveswho​

[absolutebl]

This Week In BL

April 2021 Part 5

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Close Friend Ep 2 (JaFirst) - First is a cat. No actually a cat. It was WEIRD. Cute, but creeping towards beastiality. It reminded me of that strange series out of China (@heretherebedork says Youth in the Breeze). The most amusing thing to me was that the cat used Thai formal linguistic register when of course cats would use informal rude guu mueng with EVERYONE. No cat would use pom. Don’t be ridiculous, Thailand. 

Second Chance Ep 5 - still invested, things progressed for all 3 couples, in one direction or another. They cuties. I love them. Carry on. 

Y-Destiny Ep 5 - the “virgin scoreboard” is gonna make the seme real hard to redeem with this pairing. If they bother. This might be a life lesson episode. What does it remind me of? Oh yes. Kids. *SHUDDER* Point of interest: did you notice Team uses ha with Mon? What a pushy flirt. 

Lovely Writer Ep 10 - honestly I just love it when Poppy shows up in anything, why is he such a delightful screen presence? (Gene’s brother) Sorry, distracted. What happened in this one? Oh, ya know, stuff and things. Family drama. (It is just me or have they been giving us some long ass episodes lately?) Obligatory beach trip activated. (Result = dumb probability mathematics jokes.) Next week it looks like we have Keeping Actor’s Closeted 101. You know the Casting Couch? This is the Casting Closet. 

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 4 - early stage confession, how fun. It’s not unprecedented it just usually means we are in 4 act structure, not 3, which means Fish might go more serious than I thought. Honestly? I’m losing interest mostly because I’ve gone from mild annoyance to active dislike of Pi. Happened to me with Tine too. They better redeem this obtuse tsundere uke soon or he’s not tsundere at all he’s just a jackwit. 

Brothers Ep 13 fin - a kiss and the family finds out about the not-so-brotherly brothers, drama, graduation, THE END. My side-dish happy heart made thumps over Q + delivery boy, I’m sad they got so little screen time. My babies KhunKaow did get a tiny coming out sequence as such. I’m seriously considering doing myself a bootleg of just the KhunKaow plot, but that means I’d have to rewatch the whole darn series and I can’t STAND the idea. Which should give you insight into how not good this show it. Very NOT good. Must we get a season 2? Please stop now, Line. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 7 - Muren is the cutest peanut and anyone who says otherwise can fight me, although they probably have to go through Licheng first. I was NOT invested in these two at the beginning, but as a couple? They own my soul. The other storyline is still the dumpster fire that I can’t decide to roast marshmallows over (knowing they’ll get tinged with eu de trash) or flee from in horror clutching my pearls and my nose. H4 continues to provide the quality psyche torture I’ve come to expect from this franchise. *sarcastic thumbs up*  *** A word on seeing Boxiang show up (side dish from H3:MODC). It was an unexpected pleasure, I loved his pairing (May/December is a winner for me *glares at Method*) but I do think it was a bone from the franchise telling us that we are never getting that spin-off or reboot that people yearn for. However, how AWESOME that Licheng has someone to go to and ask about topping properly. Otherwise he’s sure to have screwed it up. (Pun intended.) 

Papa & Daddy (Tailwan) Ep 1-2 - this came out of nowhere and is ADORABLE. Applies a ton of BL tropes (cheek kiss, his closet, B&W stripes, drag baby around, boop) but what IS it? More slice of gay domesticity than romance. Like 2019′s Kinou Nani Tabeta? or currently airing Close Friend. I enjoy this style, very wholesome, but I’m not sure what to call it. (Bonus points for cutie lesbians.) A bit weird to have a kid with your partner and STILL not be out to your parents. I hope they aren’t going to throw in a break up for dramatic effect. 

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 4 - I’m really enjoying this series. It’s unabashedly queer, although there’s some problematic stuff lurking under the wig. How it ends is gonna dictate if they handled this stylishly. But hot damn the leads ZING on screen together and their crackling prank-flirting is a joy to watch. 

Word of Honor (China) Ep 31-33 - moving into the home stretch. Big rescue and the band is back together (presumably for the final slaughter). Then a death! *this is my shocked face* Did I tear up? Of course I did. 4 act structure is designed for maximum pathos during the final 1/4. Did we all faint from the symbolism of the love token hair stick being gently thrust into Ah Xu’s bun? Sure we did. All that and sill I’m flagging. This is a long-arse show. Save me, Korea, with your iItsy bitsy teenie weenie...

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korea) Ep 5-6 - I am getting such strong 12th Night vibes from this. Tae Hyung is now brigadier of BL’s historical himbo brigade. (To be deployed whenever you are in need of poetry or a cut sleeve.) This show is all ridiculous charm and I LOVE it. Although, five seconds of Lee Sang is not enough Lee Sang. I had to immediately rewatch Wish You. 

Gossip

Nitiman gave us an actor intro BTS teaser. 

Kang In Soo (AKA Kyang Insoo) posted a cute behind the photo shoot of Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding plus a silly interview with Jang Eui Soo on his YouTube channel (you should subscribe, it’s a fun channel, his fitness regime is both insane and inspiring). 

My Engineer 2 dropped a couch interview with the boys but it feels like one that was filmed a while ago (oh and no subs).  

STARTING SOON: Nitiman, Love Area, Top Secret Together, Be Loved in House, & I Promised You The Moon  

Nitiman (Thai) May 7, One 31. University set, moons, engineering students, enemies to lovers, adapted. - Looks to be a solid 2 Moons knock off, I’m in.

Love Area (Thai) May 8, AIS Play, 10 eps total. Restaurant set, stars Pak Chavitpong (the only good thing about Cupid Coach) and the OST is sung by Jeff Satur (Ingredients). - It’s boys in love revolving around food = my kryptonite, try to stop me from watching this probable trash. 

Top Secret Together (Thai) May 14, Line TV. 5 couples, one IRL (Newyear from I Am Your King), story arcs revolve around secrets.  - I’m getting fatigued by these multi-couple sampler pack dramas, but I’ll try it for Newyear’s sake.  

Be Loved in House: I Do (Taiwan YES!) May 20, Viki. Office set, relationships prohibited at work by a new boss, one of the employees is determined to figure out why. Grumpy/tsundere pairing so loads of drama. - I am so flipping excited for this one. A 4th BL series from Taiwan in less than a year? That’s unprecedented. GO BABY ISLAND GO! 

I Promised You the Moon (Thai) May 27, Line TV. Follow up to I Told Sunset About You with the boys now at university. - I won’t be watching this as I have yet to finish season 1. 

Possibly Gameboys season 2.  - Rumors are all over the place right now on this. 

Next Week Looks Like This: 

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons. 

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

[thunderthighs77]

Tendou and Semi Cuckold Part 1

**Part 2** IF THE LINK DOES NOT WORK, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. PART 2 CAN BE FOUND ON MY PAGE RIGHT NOW ANYWAY  

CW/TW for Pt. 1: Fem Reader x Tendou + Semi, voyeurism, exhibitionism, mentions of weed, cursing, vaginal play, smoking weed.

Y/N comes home from college to her bf’s house. He’s rooming with Semi, who’s always had eyes for Y/N. That doesn’t bother Tendou. In fact, it excites him...

(Basically, Tendou is lead dom here)

CW/TW for BOTH PARTS: Fem Reader x Tendou + Semi, spit roast (tag team), double penetration, voyeurism, exhibitionism, vaginal/anal play, shotgunning, (smoke), oral sex (giving), mentions of weed, cursing, pussy rubbing?, whining, creampie, praise/degradation kink.

18+ MINORS DNI

You were so fed up with midterms. 5 exams this week. 5 e x a m s. You just wanted to go home and get away from this fucking campus. You left your class and checked back into your dorm to empty out your book bag of notebooks onto the floor.

You pack a few clothes and your wallet. Your roommate had left for the weekend to her girlfriend’s house and so, you locked the door and left. You took the 11 up west to where you lived and walked home with your headphones on. 

You stopped in front of a mini market and figured your parents hadn’t cooked dinner since they worked nights. It was already evening time, so you decided “what the hell.” You walked in and walked out with some instant ramen, a bag of jerky, and a Reeses, Tendou’s favorite candy. 

Speak of the devil, your phone buzzed. It was Tendou asking if your midterms went well.

“They were fine. Thanks for asking, babe. I’m home rn” You typed as you bit a chunk out of the piece of meat. 

“Ooo. Want me to pick you up tonight?”, he texted. 

You were really close to home. The market was just down the street. As you made it to your front gate, you saw a note at the front that said, “Gone for the weekend. Say hi to Tendou from us if you decide to stay over.” 

“Say less!” You shout happily. 

“No, I’m heading over rn,” you type quickly. Tendou was also nearby your house. You walked down the quiet neighborhood as you ate your jerky and listened to your vaporwave. It was rarely a nice day in March; a good 68 degrees. Odd in the early spring where you lived, but a nice change from the dreadful winter you had suffered during the fall semester. 

You knocked at the front door and was greeted by a tall blonde face you recognized from your boyfriend’s high school volleyball team. He has on some black sweats and a white tank. He opened the door while his head was turned to the side, completely focused on the volleyball game on t.v. “Hey, Y/N,” he said as he just turned his head for a second before it swung back the side to focus on the t.v. He stepped aside as you walked past him. 

You walked in to the faint smell of weed, smoked probably a few hours ago. You set the grocery back down and hung your jacket at the front. The house was dark. It was 6:43 pm to be fair, the sun had almost fully disappeared. The tv’s glare and Tendou’s computer screen were the only source of light at the moment. 

You walked to where Tendou was sitting. Shirtless and in some grey sweats, he was shouting in his headset. “Come on, you motherfucker! He’s right there!”, he shouted as he pointed to the computer screen at his game. He felt your warm hug around him and he looked back and leaned into your kiss. 

“Hey baby,” he said. He turned back and yelled to the set again, “Come on, you dick! Oh my fucking-” 

You chuckled and backed away to let him continue playing. Semi was on the couch and glued to the game on the tv. His knees were spread and you climbed over to sit down on the other side of the couch. Your passing did not faze him at all. He kept his focus on the game. “Yes!”, Semi shouted as the whistle blew on the tv. It was some random college game. You sighed and scrolled through your phone. 

The coffee table in front of the tv was messy. An ashtray of burnt out cigarettes and blunts, leaves of weed sprinkled throughout, and empty beer and redbull cans. Keys, wallets, a few bills here and there, and a charging PS4 controller. 

You shut off your phone and asked. “Can we order some takeout?” You figure the 2 packets of ramen weren’t enough to feed all three of you, and you knew Tendou nor Semi couldn't cook, or even have food in the fridge, except for drinks and the occasional condiment or two. 

Tendou sighed in relief at the screen as “YOU WON” appeared in green and he took his headset. “Sure, babe,” he said as he held the power button to shut off the computer. “Semi, do you mind takeout?”, Tendou asked. Semi shook his head no. You walk over to the kitchen and try to find a menu. “That place over on 5th is really good,” you shout back to them. 

You get no response as you burrow through Tendou’s messy kitchen drawers. You can’t find any takeout menu as you look through them. “Babe?”, you call out. “What?”, Tendou calls out from the living room. “Where are the take out menus? They’re not in the kitchen.” 

“Check the bedroom, hun,” Tendou said. You swish your lips as your stomach growls. That jerky wasn't enough to hold you. You hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Exams ran through your lunch period so you were starved the whole day. You look through Tendou’s room and into his closet to find a pile of menus. “What the hell are these doing here?”, you ask yourself. 

You get a pile of your favorite restaurants’ takeout menus and flip through them, trying to find your favorite one. Suddenly, you felt a finger slide right between your folds and you yelp. Tendou wrapped his elbow right on top of your breasts and held you in a choke hold. He continued to slide his finger in between your folds on the outskirts of your tights, and then two fingers. 

You bite your lips and roll your eyes back. Tendou chuckles and sinks his kisses right under your ear. You close your thighs, tightening his fingers and making him rub your clit more. You bend your knees and grind against his groin, him following the motion and grinding back with you.

It has been 3 months without sex since winter break. No orgasm whatsoever. You couldn’t even touch yourself in the dorms. Senior year was brutal with classes and internships. You were just exhausted and starved. Tendou let go of his chokehold and cupped one of your breasts. “Jesusss,” he hissed and he kissed your cheeks and squeezed it. 

“Tendou,” you let out in a breathy moan. “We gotta...eat…” You could barely form a sentence. “I missed you so much, baby,” Tendou says in your ear. His fingers are going ham in between your folds. He stops and pulls you by your arm and pins them behind your back with one hand while he bends you over the dresser. Your tights were thin, and therefore, made your pussy easy access. 

Tendou took his index, middle, and ring fingers and rubbed your pussy from the back. You let out a few tiny moans and close your eyes at the feeling. You quiver and throw your head back. 

“Where is my charger?” Semi asked himself as he looked around the outlets in the living room. “Ah shit!” He realized it’s in Tendou’s bedroom since he needed it last night. Semi walked over only to stop at the door. It was slightly cracked open and he heard moans. He figured you and Tendou needed some alone time. 

Semi turned away and wanted to wait until you two were finished. “Ahhh fuuuck!”, you shouted in such a pretty whine. Semi paused in his steps. He looked to the side and sighed. “Just a peek,” he told himself. He turned back and looked into the door. The tent in his pants was pitched just from your moan. 

Lord, were you a sight. He knew you were his best friend’s girl...but damn...you can’t blame him. You were just his type, and you were always over during winter break. He could hear your moans all the time. And he didn’t mind. You were fun to listen to. He always jerked off to your moans at night. And whenever he had sex with his one night stands, your vision was what he saw sometimes. It haunted him. He felt so guilty being Tendou’s friend knowing he had such thoughts. 

“HAHAHAHA!” Tendou let out a belly laugh as he threw his head back when Semi opened up to his best friend about his guilty conscience. Tendou took an inhale of his blunt and blew it out with another slight chuckle and a sigh. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious, man. I feel awful. And I’m so sorry,” Semi said sentimentally. Tendou shook his head and smiled. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Tendou asked. Semi made a confused face. Tendou smiled and scratched his forehead with his blunt still in his hand. “You see….” he began as he leaned in. “I like to...how do I say this…” he paused as he began to think his words carefully.

“I know my girl is hot, Semi. I know guys look at her all the time. I don’t worry, though. In fact, it’s kind of hot to think everyone wants her, but only I get to have her.” Tendou wasn’t wrong. Every event you came to for their high school, like a volleyball meet or an elegant sports dinner, a lot of guys were over you. Not to mention, Tendou always asked for you to wear tight cocktail dresses or ones that showed off your tits or ass a little. He got off on guys eyeing you as you walked in. 

He watched from a distance as guys would ask you, “Can I buy you a drink?” “Can I hold your coat?” “Can I get your number?” Nothing dangerous or unwelcomed, of course. Both you and Tendou liked the attention. And Tendou was always there to make sure everything went well, as he swooped you in last minute and gave you a deep kiss in front of all the guys, making them sigh in despair as they knew you were taken.

Tendou smiled as he watched Semi’s mouth gaped in confusion. “I still don’t get it. You’re not mad at me?” Tendou shook his head as he inhaled his blunt. Semi began to stutter; “But...but...but I imagine Y/n-”

“Don’t you get it?”, Tendou said as he cut him off and leaned in. “It turns me on, Semi. I get hard thinking someone likes Y/n.” Smoke escaped Tendou’s nostrils as he smirked. Semi backed away, almost disgusted.

 “How?”, he asked, horrified. Tendou leaned back into his chair and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just hot. I know she’ll always be mine. But, I always had a fetish of her fucking someone in front of me. Or at least a threesome, you know? What’s that shit called?” 

“Cuckolding?”, Semi asked. “That’s it!”, Tendou shouted joyfully at Semi recalling the word he forgot. 

Semi shook his head at the past conversation he had with Tendou. He was leaking pre cum from his pants as he watched you quiver at Tendou’s hands. “Se-Semiiii!“, you let out whined. “Ah fuck,” Semi whispers as he grabs his hardened crotch. 

“What’s that, baby?”, Tendou asked as he leaned in your ear. “Se-Semi might hear,” you whine as you furrow your eyebrows and close your eyes at Tendou’s pace. Tendou smirks and looks up in the mirror and at the doorway. He sees a figure moving in the lit hallway. He forms a cheshire grin. 

Semi freezes in fear, but then realizes Tendou is probably loving this. Tendou smiles in the mirror while glaring at Semi and rubs your pussy faster. You quiver and release yourself from Tendou’s grasp and grip the sides of the dresser. Your head is pressed down by Tendou’s hand and you tremble from your orgasm creeping on you. 

You beg and ask for permission. “Oh god! Pleaseeee! Please, sir! Please!” Semi is pulling on his crotch outside the door, thanking Tendou telepathically for leaving a slight crack in the door to peek at this show. Semi was full on hard, and he whipped his cock out and stroked it as he watched you melt in Tendou’s hands.

Tendou suddenly pulled away at your dismay. “Fuck!”, you yell out. “No,” Tendou said sternly as he smiled. Semi realized Tendou had just edged the both of you. Tendou’s fingers were pruned, and a bit sticky from your wet pussy. Your juices had leaked through your thin panties and tights, and onto his fingers. He stuck his fingers in his mouth and caught a whiff of your heat he had just violated. 

You slide down to the floor and breathe heavily. Your clit was pulsating, beating rapidly, like a heartbeat. Your hair was a mess and your face was flushed red. Tendou knelt down to your height and kissed you. “Nice to have you home, baby.” You smile and let out sighs before you see a shadow move in the hallway. You gasp as Semi suddenly disappears. Tendou looks back and smiles. He stands back over you and lends a hand to help you stand up. 

“The menu was on top of the fridge, baby. “ You smiled gently as you exited the bedroom first and entered the hallway into the living room. Semi was on the couch with a pillow on his lap and scrolling mindlessly through his phone. Tendou was on the phone while you sat down next to Semi. You looked over at his flushed face. How cute. 

[beelsnack]

Henlo!!! Just wanted to request MC getting surprised by the demon bros in the human realm! The bros miss MC a lot so they just surprise them and hang out for a bit :) it can be HCs! Thank you and I love ya work ❤️

Henlo!! Get ready for some fluff, my dudes.

I don’t know why, but this seemed better as short little headcanons as opposed to my usual scenarios.

-----

Lucifer

- He had expressly forbade any of his brothers from going up to the human world, because “they needed time to readjust.”

- But apparently Pridey McPrideface is exempt from his own rules.

- He does his research. If the human still lives with their parents or has roommates, he picks a night when they are home alone.This night is reserved for the two of them, and he will eviscerate anyone who gets in the way.

- Honestly, he wants to do some sort of grand entrance, but in the end, he simply knocks on the door.

- “Hello, my dear,” he takes their hand and kisses their knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”

- “Lucifer!” they tackle him with a hug strong enough to knock over a lesser demon. In his peripheral, Lucifer sees a neighbor stick their head out of the door and look around with a confused look.

- “You have nosy neighbors, I see.”

“Well, I mean, I did just scream ‘Lucifer...’”

“Perhaps we should go inside before someone calls a priest?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

- The two of them spend the night in their living room, just talking. They ask if he wants to go out somewhere, but he declines.

“This is the most relaxed I’ve been in centuries. I’m perfectly satisfied with staying in with you.”

- He hadn’t intended to stay the night, but it was near impossible to resist the offer. And that would end up being his downfall.

- He had forgotten about that stupid game that his brothers and the human liked to play, where they got pictures of each other sleeping. And, just as he couldn’t resist the temptation to spend the night with them, they couldn’t resist the temptation to steal a picture while he slept.

- When he arrived back at the House of Lamentation, all six of his brothers were waiting for him in the entrance hall.

- “So, where ya been, Luci?” Mammon sneered. “Ya couldn’t have possibly snuck off to visit the human after makin’ damn sure you told us not to do that, now could ya?”

“It’s not like our dear eldest brother to do something so hypocritical.” Satan said coolly, regarding Lucifer with a raised eyebrow.

“...I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Lucifer huffed.

“’Hey guys! How many points is a sleeping Lucifer worth?’” Levi turned his phone around to show Lucifer a picture of his own sleeping face, with the human’s laughing eyes just poking out from the bottom corner.

“...Oh.”

He wasn’t living this one down for a while.

Mammon

- This sneaky little bastard straight up just climbs into their room in the middle of the night.

- You know, like he DIDN’T live in a completely different realm.

- The human damn near punches him in the face when he wakes them up.

- “Mammon, what the actual fuck are you doing?”

“Visiting, what’s it look like?”

“To my neighbors, probably breaking and entering.”

- They should kick him out, all they have to do is issue a pact command. But Mammon looks at them with his sad blue eyes and they just can’t bring themself to do it.

- “I got so used to ya...y’know...sleeping next to me.” he shuffled around like a kid waiting to get scolded. “It’s hard to fall asleep when ya ain’t there.”

“Shut up and cuddle with me, you big baby.”

- They stay up stupidly late watching vine compilations and talking until they straight up just pass out against each other. They stay like that for the rest of the night.

- And by rest of the night I mean until freaking noon the next day. And the only reason they wake up then is because Lucifer is blowing up Mammon’s phone.

- “Mammon, where are you?”

“If you’re out clubbing, be back at a reasonable hour. If you’re out scheming, don’t come back until you have something to show for it.”

“You better not have passed out in a gutter somewhere. We have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“Mammon, please tell me you didn’t directly disobey an order and go visit the Human Realm.”

Four unread voicemails.

“Welp, you’re fucked.”

“Thanks, human, love you too.”

Leviathan:

- Social anxiety is a bitch and a half, so he just asks if he can come visit.

-Deadass just portals into their living room like “’Sup, I brought games, go get some snacks and get prepared to get rekt.”

- That’s it, that’s the visit.

- They decide to do multiplayer vs some other humans and they wipe the floor with them.

- “Eat it, normies, I’M the one playing with a hot person! Have fun in your moms’ basements!”

“Pot meet kettle, Levi.”

“I don’t live in a basement, though!”

“Fair point. Boom, headshot!”

- Levi manages to sleep over without repercussions solely because nobody is surprised if he doesn’t show up somewhere.

Satan

- Makes direct eye contact with Lucifer as he leaves the House of Lamentation and goes “Don’t wait up.”

-Times his surprise visit so he’s made himself comfortable with a book and a cup of coffee when they get home.

- They brought a friend over to study or whatever. The human sees him in the middle of the living room and just screeches “Satan, what the fuck?”

-The friend is like “Aight imma head out.” And like goes into witness protection.

- Satan comes bearing gifts of the newest installments of Devildom book series’ and a recording of the episodes of the crime dramas that they need to catch up on.

- They pause between each episode to talk theories even though Satan already knows what happens. Both of them feel proud of the human when they figure it out.

- Mammon texts Satan in the middle of the night in absolute terror.

Mammon: Satan you get your ass back to the Devildom right now!

Satan: Why?

Mammon: Because Lucifer is about to rip a hole through the dimensions to drag you back here!

Satan: That sounds like a Lucifer problem.

Mammon: It’s about to be a Three Realms problem!

- Read 2:09 AM

Asmodeus

- He just tells Lucifer he’s going to visit Solomon.

- And makes sure to tell him that if Lucifer decides to interrupt him, he will gladly let him listen to all of the naughty things they’re going to be doing.

- And Lucifer just straight up doesn’t want to deal with his shit so he lets it go.

- The human comes home to see Asmo stretched out on their bed scrolling through Devilgram.

- “Ugh, finally! You took forever!”

“Asmo? What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was planning on seducing you, but I absolutely refuse to have sex on a bed that moans louder than I do.”

- They go on a cute little cafe date and Asmo insists on going to all of the high-end fashion stores.

- “Devildom fashion trends always seem a few decades behind the human world. Honestly, it wasn’t until about five years ago that I could find a skirt above my knees! You would think a Realm full of sin and vice would be a little more up-to-date with provocative attire.”

- FASHION. SHOW.

-They spend an absurd amount of time trying on tacky jewelry and roasting it via Snapchat. Like, the employee showed up on Asmo’s story as they were kicking them out.

- They buy a bottle of liquor on their way back to the human’s place, get absolutely smashed and, depending on your preference, either have the giggliest sex ever or watch stupid beauty hack videos. Maybe both. Actually, definitely both.

- The next morning, Asmo does an Inter-dimensional Walk of Shame and no one is surprised.

Beelzebub

- Was going to lie about where he was going but felt guilty about it.

- So he just didn’t tell anyone.

-Knocks on the human’s door and immediately gives them the biggest bear hug.

- “I missed you, so I came to visit. That’s okay, right?”

- Beel wants to go out to eat, but the human flat out says no because they can’t afford to wine and dine the Avatar of Gluttony.

- They compromise by buying a crapton of snacks at the grocery store.

- Cashier: Must be a big party you’re having.

Human, grabbing a family size bag of chips out of Beel’s hand without even turning to look at him: Yup.

- They make themselves a blanket fort in their living room, watching movies and eating way too many snacks. Beel asks them questions about their family and their life up there. If the human has photos, he wants to see all of them.

-The human falls asleep mid-movie, slumping against his shoulder. Beel picks them up and tucks them into bed, planning on leaving to let them rest before they sleepily ask him to spend the night.

Belphegor

- Convinces Mammon to cover for him.

- Does this by going “Please, Big Brother?” and Mammon caves almost immediately.

- Pops into the human’s bedroom in the early hours of the morning and wiggles into bed with them.

- “Why am I not surprised?”

“Missed you too.”

- Human just accepts the snuggles and goes back to sleep. Belphie makes sure they have good dreams.

- If they have work or school, Belphie convinces them to call in sick and spend the day with him.

- Lots of naps and sleepy kisses. The chillest day ever.

- The human feels so relaxed that they almost convince Belphie to stay another night, and Belphie almost agrees.

- But Mammon’s ability to bullshit will only last so long, and Belphie knows he needs to go back before someone notices that his “afternoon nap” was going on 14 hours.

- “Come see me in my dreams, okay?”

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part FOURTEEN

You’ll see why this one took a while in just a second, I did that thing where I drew a whole ass scene again

Content warning for fantasy religions based loosely on Christian schisms

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

So while Link is getting acclimated to Castle life and getting hugs from Marla and Tonbo (and also getting unofficially adopted by the royal family) Astramorus flies back to the Sky Temple with his loftwing. 

And he has a lot of time to think while he’s doing it; I don’t know how fast a loftwing flies but even so it would have taken some hours on Hera’s back and you don’t have anything to do up there but think about why you got blasted through a wall by a god-queen.  So he gets back and he’s feeling pretty fucking subdued when he hands Hera off to the Sky Temple commune’s gardener/bird caretaker, Maurice.

[Image description:  Astramorus, looking tired and still missing his hat, his hair a mess, is standing opposite a short and round mustached man with bushy eyebrows dressed in the same priestly robes, except that this man has his sleeves shortened to his elbows and is wearing thick gloves.  This man is holding Hera the loftwing by a lead, while she makes a particularly vacant happy face.  “NAYRU’S EYES, man, WHAT HAPPENED?”  Astramorus gives a very small smile, and after a pause, answers, “TURBULENCE.”  The man harrumphs skeptically, then says, “Well, LORD SERENUMBRA from the LORULEAN ORTHODOXY showed up three days ago and he’s been giving me ADVICE ON MY TOMATOES, so turbulence or OTHERWISE I’d appreciate you DISTRACTING HIM before I commit some WEEDING.”  Astramorus smiles.  “Ah,” he says in understanding.  “Yes, thank you for your PATIENCE, Maurice.”  End ID.] 

A note on Maurice, originally I was going to make him look like Gaepora OR Rauru and then Ice suggested basing him on Maurice-Belle’s-Dad and I liked that, so I blended the ideas a bit.  

I think I’ve mentioned that Lorule and Hyrule have different takes on the Hylia religion, haven’t I?

Basically since this Lorule is just the country south of Hyrule instead of a dark-mirror-universe world, Invid suggested that part of the idea might be that Lorule insists that Hyrule is wrong about which country the Golden Goddesses left the world from, and that the Triforce belongs there instead.  I kind of played with that a little further, and so now part of the thing is that their royal line is actually also descended from Hylia directly, except that at some point a sister broke off from (one or the other of) the royal family, founding the Hilda line versus the Zelda line.

And real quick here’s the Hilda of this story, which I promise is relevant:

[Image Description: Sketches of a tall, black haired woman with pale skin and blue eyes and extremely long pointed ears, dressed in a cape and dress of purple, dark blue, red and gold.  She wears a blue and green belt trimmed with gold and black gloves, and a diadem featuring a red gemstone and golden spread wings.  There is an inverted Triforce symbol on her sash.  She is also wearing black lipstick and red blush and eyeshadow.  A sketch to the side shows her making a decidedly less dignified expression with the note “All the finery and rouge is a desperate attempt to fool you into thinking Hilda is in her twenties but she’s only actually seventeen, same as Link.”  Another sketch shows her next to an old man with round glasses and priestly robes different to the Hyrulean priests, who only comes up to her chest.  She has her hands on her hips and is ranting at him.  A note reads, “Hilda TOL.”  End ID.]

Anyway the thing is that currently, the two churches are relatively peaceable with one another, they have joint gatherings to quibble about tradition and who should be allowed to have what sacred treasures and who has to bring the roast boar next time, and that is how a very young novice Astramorus ended up as friends with the man he would eventually match in equivalent rank, Lord Serenumbra.  Who gets a nice picture equivalent piece to Astra’s introduction because of symmetry: 

[Image Description: The same short priest from the picture with Hilda.  He has white loosely curly hair, circular gold glasses, a hat similar to Astramorus’s but in red, a dark red robe over a black underdress, both trimmed in gold, and is wearing a heavy golden neck piece with an inverted Triforce and golden wings framing a blue disc.  To the side are various comic panels; in the first, he has taken an extremely young Astramorus’s hand and is saying, “Let me be the first to CONGRATULATE you, my friend!”  In the second, he’s spread his arms wide while approaching Astramorus and Catena, Link’s mother.  “Let me be the first to CONGRATULATE YOU, my friends!” he’s saying, and Catena laughs, giving Astramorus a rough side hug that lifts him off his feet despite her only coming to his chest, while Astramorus gives her a gooey smile.  “TOO LATE,” she says, “I told my mum first,” and laughs.  In the last panel, Astramorus has collapsed limp into a chair at a dining room table, his hair in his eyes, his face wet with tears, propping his head on one arm as Serenumbra pats his shoulder from behind the chair.  “Let me be the first to say,” Serenumbra says, “How DEEPLY SORRY I am, my friend.”  End ID.]

This is awful but that’s currently my favorite picture of Astramorus.  

Serenumbra’s design is based on the priest and philosopher from ALttP and Link Between Worlds; the philosopher’s robes were red so I sorta priestified them.  The blue disc in the center of his neck piece represents the Moon Pearl from ALttP, which was actually red in the game but blue in some of the promotional materiel, and the blue was a nicer contrast.  The Moon Pearl was mostly important because it let Link run around in his human form in the Dark World but I always liked it because it was sort of weird and mysterious.  In Four Swords Adventures there’s actually a LOT of moon pearls and they let you make portals between the worlds.  There isn’t going to be a lot of world hopping in this AU, I just thought it was interesting context. 

Anyway here’s two old friends having a conversation, image description and a little more commentary plus some bonus poking at Astramorus at the end:

[Image Descriptions: Astramorus is entering a room with a rounded door and a coat rack on the wall.  “Seren?” he calls.  “ASTRAMORUS, are you QUITE all right?” Serenumbra answers.  He is sitting at a round table in the center of the room; there are two dining chairs, one of which he is sitting in, and opposite of him is a comfortable looking rocking chair.  “I came because I heard about your SON, have you still not found him?”  Astramorus, looking deeply pained, straightens some of his hair with one hand.  “I found him,” he says.  He settles into the rocking chair with a long creak.  Serenumbra is clearly shocked by his demeanor.  “Astra,” he says, concern clear in his face, “What HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling while looking like death warmed over.  There is a panel fading from light to dark to indicate the passage of time, then we see that Serenumbra has a hand to his mouth in thought.  “So the queen refuses to see the DANGER here,” he says.  Astramorus has folded his hands together.  “She’s right about my SON, though,” he answers.  Serenumbra is quick to defend Astramorus to himself: “Well- he’s such a SOFT BOY, you wanted him PREPARED,” he begins, but Astramorus stops him.  “I pushed him too hard, too SOON, and with too little CARE.”  Astramorus lifts his hands and grins painfully, continuing, “WHAT was I DOING, trying to teach him how to FIGHT when all I knew was an ADULT’S routine?”  He puts a hand to his chin, still smiling.  “I must be the STUPIDEST MAN ALIVE.”  “Astra,” Serenumbra begins again, and Astramorus interrupts again.  “My wife used to tell me I WORRIED too much, did I ever mention that?”  He asks.  His face turns solemn.  “It was even one of the LAST THINGS she said to me,” he says.  We get a glimpse of young Astramorus and Catena together backlit by the sun; she’s wearing a blue version of the classical Link costume with a sword strapped to her back and plate armor on her shoulders, he’s wearing his priestly robes and hat.  She’s reached up to grab his face, grinning, while he’s put his hands on hers.  “And then she died,” Astramorus says.  He sits up, animate once more.  “What else could I DO but worry?!” he demands.  “You’ve studied the legends, same as I-” he subsides again- “That mark on Link’s hand may as well be a DEATH SENTENCE.”  He puts a hand on his face.  “And I’ve so THOROUGHLY FAILED him that now I’ve put the Royal Family in danger TOO.”  Serenumbra puts a hand to his chin, thoughtfully.  “WELL, you never KNOW,” he says, “Princess HILDA is more of an age with Link, maybe the Triforce of Wisdom will arise in the LORULEAN line this time.”  Astramorus laughs.  “That doesn’t change the SITUATION, Seren,” quietly adding “But also KEEP DREAMING.”  He then puts his hand to his mouth.  “How do I even BEGIN to atone?” Astramorus asks.  “Ahh, old friend,” Serenumbra answers, soothingly.  “If only Catena were still WITH us, she’d know how to ease the boy’s burden.  Why-she’d face down GANON HIMSELF if it came to that!”  Astramorus makes an intense face, as if he’s been suddenly burdened.  Serenumbra stands and puts a hand on his shoulder.  “Get some REST, dear friend, you still look TERRIBLE,” he says with a smile.  Astramorus is wringing his hands, staring forward.  End ID.]

DUMBASS BRAINCELLS ENGAGED.

I didn’t expect “Got pegged by his wife so hard that the mere invocation of her name knocked him back to his senses after over eleven years of fucking shitty behavior towards their son” to be on the bingo card for this character when I started this project either, but this is Draft 0.5 so anything can happen XD

Astramorus is so layered now what the fuck!  

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “HELLO DARKNESS MY OLD FRIEND.”  End ID.]

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “WELL FIRST OF ALL I FUCKING DIED.”  End ID.]

[Image Description: Serenumbra, face full of concern, asks, “Astra, what HAPPENED?”  Astramorus stares at the ceiling like death warmed over.  Behind him are the words “...my wife made this chair.”  End ID.]

Catena got into carving as a hobby during long trips but she started making furniture while dealing with nesting urges while pregnant, so imagine this little tank of a woman assembling a rocking chair for her tol noodle husband while ranting about her weird cravings.  

[waywardimpalawriter]

Could you do a Bucky/Reader fic for 16 on the smut prompts?

The intimacy of shaving

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Bucky Bingo Square: New haircut square

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Sarah Wilson

Setting: three months after the end of Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Rating: M (Mature), E (explicit), NSFW, +18 only please

Warnings: fluff, angst, bickering, smut, oral female receiving, yearning, pining, unrequited love, smutty dreams, broken bones, mention of torture, Bucky’s old memories,

Word count: 10,800

Summary: Frustrated with being left behind, worry taking hold after finding out just a fraction of how bad your boys are. Making you start to search your feeling's for both men. Especially with the intimacy of giving Bucky a hair cut and shave. Unexpected emotions surface on all parts.

Notes: Sequel too “My own worse enemy," filling in a bingo square for #buckybingo and also an Anon request asking for smut prompt #16 “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.” Hope you don't mind me adding Sam into the mix sweetie. Also for my head cannon Sam uses Delacroix LA for his base of operation. Wanting to help take care of his family while taking on the mantle of Captain America. Hope you enjoyed doll.

Tag list’s: Are open

@buckybingo

Forever’s: @jedi-mando @chickensarentcheap

Bucky Barnes list: @learisa @eclipses-and-moondust

Story list: @sammyissassy @feelmyroarrrr

Wearing a path from the kitchen to living room ignoring Sarah’s stare, thumb nail damn near nibbled to the bed with how much your chewing the poor abused finger. Cell phone pressed to your ear, listening to Sams deep baritone, “What’d ya mean three places Samuel? How the f-ing hell did you both managed to get so banged up?”

“Explanations will roll out once we touch down Y/N for now know at least he didn’t break his funny bone that’s still none existence,” glancing towards Bucky stretched out over the metal helo bench. Right arm in a sling snug to his body, thick plaster cast covering from mid bicep to mid palm, fingers still visible.

“I heard that and I do to have a sense of humor just not your brand of stupid jokes bird brain,” deep voice unmistakably Bucky’s catching a wobble in the cadence not there when last they spoke.

Swiping a hand over your face wanting to kill them both for leaving you behind. Plans to do just that forming in your mind while snarking, “Remind me again why exactly you chose to leave me behind?”

Staying home you could’ve possibly worked with, the unknown danced on your nerves more than you’d give credit to. Having grown even closer to both men over the last six months, always brushing those pesky feelings and thoughts away that surface during weak moments of worry or sleep.

“To dangerous and I’m not arguing with you on those semantics it’s bad enough cyborg got the shit beaten out of him,” quickly pulling the phone from his ear at the high pitched sound from down the line. Forgetting a moment your attachment to both men, “You finished?”

Low growl in answer, biting off the curses you wish to fling at both Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Don’t worry you’re in for it once you get home. ETA?” Checking the watch strapped to your left wrist, “I’ll come pick y’all up, gotta stop in town for supplies anyway.”

“No worries my trucks at base I’ll get Buck and myself home.” Glancing at his watch, “Landing in about two hours, think you can grab a couple of Miss Bridgette’s pecan pies?”

Too many years working with that man not to know what he likes, “For the shit you and Barnes pulled get your own pie man.” Soft chuckles lets you know Sarah heard you. Eyes locking with her’s for a moment seeing the worry in those warm browns matching as you knew in your own. “Just bring you asses home so Sarah and I can roast them.”

Almost feeling the deep groan from over the phone line, “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing since that’s what I got,” shaking head tips to the side picking up on Sam’s easy breathing and the helo’s engines in the back ground. “Just get home dumbass,” affection in your tone. Ending the call, slipping the cell into your front pocket to flop down into the worn out but still comfortable couch.

“They get hurt?” Anxiety tainting her voice from across the room.

Peeking through your fingers at her, dropping them to your thighs to run the length of denim covered skin, “Don’t know really, Sam sounds fine but a concussion or another type of head injury wouldn’t show it’s self right away. From what I did gather they finished up the mission a little over four hours ago, in flight for the last two.”

“What about Bucky?” Meeting your eyes having confided in her years ago about the crush harbored for a certain metal armed ex-assassin turned Cap’s left hand man. Always leaving out the other part of your secret crush. “Speaking of which you ever gonna tell them how you feel?”

“Busting chops about that again Sarah?” Exasperated sigh marches passed barely parted lips, “Something’s broke in three places that’s all Sam ‘Stubborn ass’ Wilson would say. Just not which one of them or what body part exactly.” Firmly ignoring her last question and not picking up on the fact she said them instead of him. To stand hands to hips, leaning back to stretch and possibly pop your spine. “I’m going to town you wanna come or need anything.”

“And you call Sam stubborn,” head shaking with a fond smile tipping her lips upward. Picking up the subtle shift in your demeanor as relief floods your system with knowing they're coming home at least safe. Having guessed your feelings for her older brother not long ago however, keeping that little tidbit to herself. “I’ll come with, give you company and grief along the way. The boy’s won’t come home till later anyway.”

Eyes roll you reach for the car keys on the coffee table, patting your back pocket to check for wallet and the front for cell phone. “Ready to roll?”

Hour and a half later arms loaded with grocery bags, making sure to hide Miss Bridgette’s pie’s from Sam, you and Sarah set to work putting everything away. Setting to work fixing dinner efficiently dancing around each other like a well oiled machine working together in tandem getting each task done. Back door quietly trying to open, Sam poking his head around the well loved oak wood door. Showing a face littered with cuts, a busted bottom lip and dark shadow of a black eye around his left. But his smile still widens flashing pearly whites at seeing the two of you. Entering, Sam places a large locking suit case and round leather carry case not far from the door.

Soft gasp leave’s Sarah’s lips, quickly moving towards her brother to look him over, “You were ugly before now it’s just worse bro.”

Snort existed through his nose, stepping fully into the house with a limp on his right side, accepting the hug she gives him carefully. “You should see the other guy.”

“I’m the other guy,” voice slightly strained but still light almost playful unlike the Bucky of months ago. Though seeing him coming around Sam, arm cradled close in a black cloth sling. Peeks of plaster noticeable making you groan, head shaking at the very sight of him. Assortment of bruises littered his face, his own busted lip, and a three inch cut circling just above his collarbone. Seeing the storm brewing in your eyes, “No we didn’t fight and Sam didn’t cause these wonderful souvenirs.”

“Stupid ass got captured, wouldn’t listen to my plan…”

“You didn’t have a plan Sam not a logistical one…”

“Oh, so you bulldozing in like a raging bull in a China shop worked so well. Who got capture?” Pressing a finger behind his ear to lift the shell listening for Bucky’s answer. “I’m sorry I can’t hear you. You’re gonna say you right Robo soldier cause that’s the correct answer.”

Exasperated with them both, “Shut it and sit down dinner’s ready. I swear the two of you fight worse than Cass and AJ.” Authority ringing through Sarah’s tone cutting eyes at both men.

“Oh sweetheart Cass and AJ have nothing on these two bone heads, more maturity in their little bodies than both of them put together.” Rubbing your temples trying to fend off the building migraine behind your eyes. “Listening to constant bickering I wanna put them in a ‘Get along shirt.'”

Scowl in place while giving them a full once over. Cataloguing the damage you could see and wondering about that which you couldn’t. Noticing the length of Bucky’s hair almost a shaggy just falling a little over his ears and brushing the collar of the black t-shirt he’s wearing. Full beard dusting his cheeks and chin reminding you of those days long gone back in Wakanda. In contrast to Sam’s neatly kept mustache and goatee, close cropped haircut smartly framing his handsome face. Looking much like the day he and Bucky left three months ago on their reconnaissance mission. Knowing better as looks deceive and clothes cover up places eyes can’t see without stripping them naked. The very thought peeking interest but pushing those thoughts back with a frown. Of course it doesn’t stop you from wanting to hug them both mindful of injures unseen that brings a scowl to your features.

“You wouldn’t?” Traces of fear slicing through those deep russet browns. “I thought you loved me Y/N?”

Speaking over Sam, “What’s a ‘Get along’ shirt?”

Caught between wanting to roll her eyes and chuckle, “It’s a big shirt we’d put the two of you in till ya stop bickering like children and actually get along.” Dishing up dinner, Sarah looks towards both men. Trying hard not to burst out laughing at the sour look on Sam’s face nor the still slightly confused one on Bucky’s.

“I see smoke coming from his ears,” snarky quip receiving a back handing smack to his arm.

Bowel’s placed at the table, “Aim for the head next time Sar.” Taking the seat on Sam’s right offering him a cheekily smile, “Might actually knock the few brain cells he has left around and jump start the hamster running the wheel.”

“You both wound me,” clutching his chest dramatically. “With friends and family like this who can you trust.”

“Dramatic’s must come with handling the shield,” cerulean eyes rolling edged with teasing tone. Glancing towards Sam first then you beside him, going to explain for Sarah’s benefit. “Steve could put on some high melodrama back in the day. Much like Samuel here.” Scratching at his chin with vibranium fingers, a low hiss only you catch sounds when the plates catch the little hairs.

Scoffing, “Only Sarah calls me that first off, second look who’s talking Mr. Bionic Staring machine scaring off everyone who comes within two feet. Dramatics run through your veins just as well. ”

“Children,” both women exclaim hands coming down to slam the table at the same. Before time digging into dinner as the back door opens with Cass and AJ storming inside with excited chatter upon seeing both Sam and Bucky.

Each asking about what happened, how’d the mission go and why exactly Bucky’s sporting a sling and cast. All questions peeking the interested of both women with brows raised and narrowed eyes.

“Settle in first and eat dinner,” Sam intones wanting to keep most of what happened from his family. “For the most part the mission went successful.”

Very unladylike snort leaves your nose hidden behind a glass of sweet tea you sip from, “At least you came back in one piece or three in someone’s case.” Eyes narrow even farther on Bucky who has the good graces to look sheepish and divert his eyes.

“But the super serum why didn’t it help like that,” AJ snapped his little fingers for emphasis on the quickness the serum should work or so he thinks.

“Doesn’t quiet work that way AJ,” Bucky starts running a hand through his longer than usual hair. Giving a short frustrated tug before returning to the topic at hand. “Yeah the serum helps speed up the healing process it’s not instantaneous and,” pausing to side eye you not wanting to admit there’s more injures than just his arm.

Scowl returning having a feeling you know why he’s paused in explaining, “Takes longer to heal when multiple injures are involved.”

Dinner finishes with other questions, skirting the full truth about the mission, discussing the coming week with work and school. Sam’s boyish smile appears when Sarah brings out the pie, cutting out slices to pass around with Reddi-whip, coffee for the adults, milk for the kids. Silence settles for a moment the enjoyment of pie more important to savor and only once done do you raise to start cleaning up.

“I’ll,” shooting Sarah a look with a shake of your head.

“You got paperwork to catch up on babe I’ve got this, besides Sam volunteered to help. Didn’t you Sam?” Shooting a look his way, clearly speaking volumes if the answer comes back no.

Brow arched in question but thought better then to ask, though he flips the script on you, “Of course, Bucky volunteer’s.” Quickly moving away from the hand threatening to land a hard punch to his right thigh. Almost toppling to the floor in his hast to move Sam tweaked his hip a twinge of pain slicing through his features.

“Serves you right Wilson,” thought a slice of regret skates across your thoughts. Head shaking you stand gathering plates as the boys excuse themselves to play video games.

“Homework first or I’m taking those games away,” Sarah yells after them looking in your direction for a second. “You got these two?” Pointing at each of them in turn with her own frown dropping her lips downward.

“Sadly yes,” exasperation clearly written in the rigidness of you stance and narrowing to slits of your eyes. “Blissfully unaware or want to know everything?”

“Unaware I’m just happy their back whole,” nodding Sarah takes her leave, heading for the home office.

Times flown, six months in fact since Karli’s death and Sam taking over the mantle of Captain America. Going above and beyond to change how the worlds become and see’s the shield. Using Delacroix as home base to keep himself grounded and around for his family. Surprisingly enough including you and Bucky the house feels a touch over crowded but wouldn’t want things any different.

“Care to explain what that means?” Limping with hands full towards the sink, Sam places his arm load down watching you move around the kitchen. Putting leftovers up, setting to work on the dishes, the familiarity you exude warms a place in Sam’s heart. Always pushing those thoughts from his mind, your his best friend and wouldn’t see him in any other way. Especially with your heart firmly filled with Bucky.

Giving your back to both men and only acknowledging their presence when Bucky comes over with a bowel. “Thanks,” leaves your lips with a nod.

“We’re sorry for leaving you behind Y/N, but Sam and I agreed things were to dangerous neither of us wanted you to get hurt,” trying to reason Bucky leans his back against the counter beside you. Tugging once again at his too long hair that gets slightly tangled in the plates of his fingers.

“You actually agreed on something?” Catching his actions, your head shakes grabbing for the towel to dry soapy hands and help with his dilemma. “Instead you both come back looking like train wreck’s all beaten, broken and bruised. With a busted arm,” finished with untangling his fingers to point at his arm. Whirling around to assess Sam who’s trying not to put weight on his right leg, “Banged up hip and God know what else internally. Neither one of you are spring chickens for heaven’s sake.”

“Don’t know what your talking about Y/N? I’m not a day over twenty-five,” taking an aim to make you smile and ease the tension in your shoulders. Frown appearing when your countenance doesn’t change but deepens, “Talk to the resident Centurion who got his ass captured and tortured for over a week.”

Low growl leaves your lips pursed together in a grim line, “Do either of you think about the consequences of your actions? Of what’ll happen without either of you in this God forsaking world?” Tossing your hands up and turning back to dish washing, something to keep from chocking the life outta the two of them, or spilling your inner most thoughts. Afraid to loose either man the very thought making your heart clinch painfully in your chest, breathing picking up as tears gloss over your eyes. Plates clang loudly, forcefully slamming them into the drying rack making both men wince at your actions.

“Y/N,” coming up behind you large warm hands carefully rest on tense shoulders. Aware of your feelings for a certain cyborg the thought a little bitter to take but Sam resigns himself to the role of best friend. “We’re sorry really,” taking a breath and clearing his throat wanting to make amends and explain. “We thought, planned, things just…”

“Went to shit around us, it’s not like Sam or I wanted to get the crap beating out of us doll it just,” shrugging vibranium hand coming to rest on your shoulder beside Sam’s. “Got complicated.”

Taking a deep breath drawing in the scents of Sam’s citrus and cider wood cologne you couldn’t put your finger on naming, mixing with Bucky’s old world sandalwood base cologne of 4711. Eyes close for a moment blinking back the tears, and to gather thoughts, righting them in an order that makes sense. Trying to keep out the feelings currently jumbling up your brain. “I know,” body sags back against Sam’s strong chest while unconsciously leaning towards Bucky’s hand. “Neither of you will do that shit again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Not if things go dark side like this time, we’re not putting you in harms way,” feeling you stiffen Sam steps back, Bucky’s hand drops back to his side when you whirl on the man behind you. Stance ridge and firm, Sam crosses his arms adding his own glare and not backing down. “My decision is final on the matter and no amount of arguing will change that.”

Understanding Sam’s position, however the thought of staying behind, waiting to find out if… no you push those thoughts aside. “Mine, that’s who makes the choice not either of you,” heat of annoyance flaring to life as you look between the two men. “Knowing what I signed up for, choose to stick around and help put this broken blue marble we call home back together. I won’t sit out the next mission we clear on that?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, barely audible hiss leaves Bucky’s lips at having hair yanked out by the roots. Though his voice is steady when asking, “Why did you stick around? Thought once Walker handed over the shield, the Flag smashers agenda crashed and burned you’d skip out on the next train back to normal.” Not that he minded of course, in fact Bucky rather enjoyed your company, reminded him of those first months out of cryo getting to know each other. Plus his questions distracted you from getting an answer that won’t satisfy.

“I have my reasons,” giving a half hearted shrug you turn back to finishing up the dishes not really wanting to explain. Not fully sure yourself why you’ve stuck around though deep down you know it has to do with both men. “Reasons neither of you need to know.”

Sharing a look with Bucky, “Don’t pull that shit with us sweetheart you demand answers now we ask the same in return.”

Sure they still argued like an old married couple but a begrudging understanding has built between the pair, coming to an almost friendship neither would fully admit to. Both wanting to protect the small family friend’s circle patched together like grandma’s old quilt. Tattered, frayed and a few wholes but well loved and always cared for. Eyes landing back on you to watch the forward slump of your shoulders rounded inward along with your chin dropped to your chest.

“I have the two of you house broken,” idea forming to steer the conversation away. “Don’t need that headache on repeat and I wouldn’t leave the two of you bone heads alone to kill each other or drive poor Sarah crazy,” quicker than either can react you’ve scooped up hand fulls of soap bubbles to smash into both their faces. Deflecting the conversation away from having to answer and lightening the mood. Or so you hoped with the playfully murderous looks both men shoot you. Skirting Sam’s grabby hands heading to put the kitchen table between yourself, Captain America and the Winter Soldier. “Now boys that’s just all in good fun and your both hurt so I suggest you think about your actions before retaliating.”

Wiping the remains of soapy bubbles from his face, thick fingers making wet tracks over denim to dry hands. Sam edges a little closer intent on trying to snag your arm. That ghosts through his fingers, “For now but remember paybacks a bitch sweetheart.” Bright smile tugs his full lips, head shaking though he knows there’s so much more your hiding from both he and Bucky. One day he’ll crack that secret you hold so dear, for now Sam lets you cling tightly.

Watching him go you turn towards Bucky who’s smirk sets you back a moment. “I don’t think I like that look Barnes,” arms crossed mustering a half glare. “Sam’s right you really can see the smoke rising from your head.”

“Hahaha that jokes getting old,” light hearted quip falling from his lips, eyes raking your form as you near the sink. Catching you looking between finishing the dishes and making sure Bucky’s not going to retaliate. “I come in peace promise besides I’m too old for revenge I’ll leave it to you young whipper snappers,” throwing his voice to sound like an old man.

Laughter rings full and deep from your parted lips, soapy hands gripping the sink to keep from toppling over in mirth. His own chuckle exists on a grin, cerulean eyes taking in how carefree you look. Tension and worry melted away with his well played grandpa joke. Making Bucky wish he got to see you like this more often but then he remembered why he never searched. Why he left you alone and only within the last ten or so months managed to reconnect the missing dots in his life. Sure there’s still blood on his hands he tries to scrub clean with each mission, to make those amends and not just avenge. But truly help people in ways that didn’t require lead or blood.

Still wondering, so he gives voice to those thoughts, “Why didn’t you go back to your life doll?” Feeling he’s perpetuated a grave error in asking the question but a part of him wants. No needed the answer to know why you’d give up a happy life for one of danger and uncertainty with him and Sam.

Sobering, his question hitting you like a ton of cement bricks keeping you from turning to face him. Wincing when another hiss echos around inside your head from your right side. “Tell you what Buck you let me cut that hair and beard of yours I’ll answer your questions.”

“I get you don’t… wait… what?” Not sure he’d heard you right. Pain making a return to fog his brain for the moment as throbbing radiates across his broken clavicle to the dislocated shoulder, dancing along the fractured radius and painfully tingling his fingers. Soft curse exists his lips reminding himself to take Sam’s suggestions next time though he wouldn’t let the other man know. “Don’t happen to have any pain meds do ya doll?”

Eyes narrow, “Which parts did they break?” Holding up a hand to stop him from answering while you head towards your room. Grabbing up the small med kit Sharon gave you months back for times like these. Pausing to scoop up the hair scissors and trimer, along with a shaver and cream, both of which belonging to Sam. “Now you were saying?”

Placing everything on the table, unzipping the medium size unassuming black bag pulling out a small bottle to pop the top and wiggle out two pills. Handing those over to Bucky who just stares at them resting in his metal palm.

“Trying to kill me doll?” Teasing tone to the cadence of his words while popping them into his mouth and excepting the glass of water. Downing in one go and handing it back, “Never did like pills reminds me of Steve.”

Resting a gentle hand on his bad shoulder, “If I tried to kill ya Buck you’d see it coming,” snickering at the wide eyed look he gives you. Sobering with understanding filled eyes that stay locked with his, “I’m sorry it”s not my intentions to bring up the past.” Moving to put the glass down, you stay at the sink looking out over the backyard, orange and reds dancing over the rippling surface of the bayou. Sinking sun creating a cornucopia of color heralding the on coming twilight and the end of another day.

“You didn’t Y/N,” coming to stand next to you watching the golden ball of life giving light slowly sink into the horizon. On the tip of his tongue to speak about Steve, the abandonment he felt acutely with the absence of his best friend. Slowly filled by your present, that of Sam’s and his family. “I guess ‘Till the end of the line’ meant just till he could get back to who he really missed.” Anguish heard loudly through soft spoken words not meant for your ears but once uttered there’s no going back.

Out of your peripheral vision you study Bucky for a moment heart breaking for the man who’s lost so much to then fully face him. His own gaze staying straight ahead staring unseen out the window with tan lace curtains framing the coming twilight. Over head light casting shadows in the hallows and angles of his features, bringing out the bruises highlighting the cuts, making your heart ache for this man in ways you’ve tried to push aside. Ways you didn’t want it to feel in case of rejection but couldn’t help the tightening in your chest nor the want to embrace and hold Bucky close.

“Come on,” without thinking your hand slips into his vibranium palm tugging till he follows and only dropping to scoop up trimmer, combs and scissors before heading out the back door.

For a moment Bucky stood there thankful to Shuri for the ability to feel warmth and the weight of your hand in his vibranium limb. The very thoughts your simple gesture conjures damns his heart making it beat triple time. When your head pops back around the door sweet smile crossing those kissable lips. Bucky has to remind himself you’re off limits friends nothing more and to breath. Your beauty stealing the air from his lungs, making it hard to focus on anything except your present.

Catching the out of focus look in his cerulean eyes mind swirling with questions as to what he’s thinking about. “You gonna stand there taking root or get your silly ass out here,” motioning with a jerk of your head over your shoulder smile still firmly in place. Making sure he’s actually moving before existing to place a stool about middle of the back porch. Patting the hardwood barstool then reaching up to tug on the pull string as light floods the area casting a bright glow.

Transfixed for a moment in the doorway with the peek of skin allowed to his eyes. Your heather grey band shirt riding up teasingly tormenting him. Cursing internally, tongue trapped between indenting teeth to keep the sounds at bay. Till the hard slap of your palm against wooden seat draws his attentions and he robotically takes the seat. Stiffening with the fluttering of a barber’s cape hating to have things around his neck. Only to settle once you have it in place and buttoned reminding him your not there to hurt or torture him. Fingers brushing lightly over the exposed skin of his neck, creating goosebumps to dance across his flesh.

“Not too tight?” Gently running nimble fingers through his hair, blunt nails scratching the scalp. Finding it hard to keep from rubbing into your hands and fighting the urge to purr with each pass. You work the larger knots out carefully, pulling a comb from the back pocket of your jeans to run through his hair. “You with me Buck?”

“Hmm?” Simple noise issues from the back of his throat lost in the tingling sensations your fingers bloom across his body. Wanting to chase the feeling bringing peace to his mind much like the soft cadence your voice takes on with the intimacy surrounding the two of you. Sweet chuckle music to his ears and snaps him back to now, noticing you’ve paused your hands waiting for a response, “Sorry no I’m good.”

“Enjoying yourself Barnes?” Teasingly quipped while adjusting the cape to cover his back. Making sure all his hair lays over the edges and carefully combing out the smaller knots your fingers missed. Secretly enjoying the soft chestnut strands as they curl around your fingers. Massaging his scalp hoping to relax his tense posture when a particularly stubborn knot has you accidentally giving a not so gentle tug. Garnering a low moan from the man in front of you. “Sorry Buck,” working the knot out with a little more care taking the sound as one of pain.

Throat clearing, thankful his crotch is currently covered to not give away the secret he’s concealing. Praying to all the heavens you’ve taken the moan as one of pain instead of pleasure that’s surfing through his veins with a simple hair pull. “Yes, and it’s fine,” words pushed passed lips held taunt to keep from letting any sound out. Searching his mind for a topic to settle on, willing his body to stop reacting to the warmth of yours.

Each brush of fingers sends heat flaring to life along his nerves. Knowing the pain killers don’t worked through his system that quickly. Yet, the throbbing ache once present has diluted to a low annoying thump with the heat of your hands on his cotton covered shoulder. Wanting to lean back into your body but holds himself ridge from doing something stupid like enjoying the moment. Therefore clears his throat, “You’ve got me at your mercy doll ready to answer my questions?”

“Should I worry what you’ll ask?” Moving from behind him to head back into the kitchen. Grabbing the empty spray bottle to fill with warm water and head back out.

Eyes close with the first spritz of water, chin dropping to chest as you work to wet his hair. “Why?”

“Why what?” Knowing what he’s asking, your distracted for a moment putting the spray bottle’s trigger through a belt loop incase its needed once your satisfied with the wetness of his hair. “I’ll need more specifics than just why. Why’s the sky blue? Why’s it so damn hot? So many why questions you gotta stop wasting your breath Buck.”

“Cheeky doll very cheeky you know damn well what I mean,” keeping his head still to prevent you from severing an ear.

Smirking, setting to work on trimming up the top back portion of his head, trying to keep from childishly making faces. “Sure don’t Sarge.”

Groan slipping passed before he’s able to trap and swallow the sound at the off handed use of his military rank. Wondering which deity had it out for his ass today. Cursing the fact he’s let you so close to breath in the flowery scent of your body. Gentle use of those skilled fingers through his hair not making things any better for the growing problem tenting his jeans. Returning to himself when you move to his left shortening the hair over his ear. “Why’d you stay with us? I thought,” remembering those painful words back in Madripoor. “I thought you had a happy life to go back to.”

“Ear hustling Barnes?” Switching sides and glancing down with a raised brow you know he doesn’t see.

Looking up to try and catch your eye your focus on cutting his hair makes the attempt impossible. So he settles on, “Don’t know what you mean doll. Just asking a question,” trying to hold the shiver at bay when your fingers brush over the shell of his ear.

“Since your asking it means you didn’t hear everything Sam and I talked about,” thankful that’s the case or things would get a whole lot complicated. “I lied.”

Head whipping to the side so quickly you fear he’s damaged his neck with the wince taking over his handsome features. “Lied why?”

“Reasons,” ‘Ones I won’t tell you James,’ speaking the last words in your mind, careful probing fingers check for anything popped out. Garnering a hiss of pain when you’ve found the break in his clavicle. “What did you break besides the hamster running your wheel brain?”

Bitting off the curse as pain flared over his right side. Gritting out, “Clavicle, dislocated shoulder, fractured radius, you can see the cuts and bruises so take it a little easy on this old man.”

“How… Why did you get captured?” Worry fights fear both dance with anger marching through your veins as a Thanksgiving Day parade band would down the streets of New York City. The very thought of both your men hurt and so far away from home torn a hole in your heart. Thoughts you try to push away and focus on the job of cutting Bucky’s hair.

Finishing up what you could on the back of his head, Bucky feels you come around to the front. Knees spread to accommodate your body, closing his eyes to keep from staring at your breasts. Licking suddenly dry lips with having you extra close, he tries to gather an answer to your question. “We needed an in so I made a decision.”

“One I’m sure Sam disagreed on,” carding your fingers through the top, snipping pieces checking length. Jealous over how soft his hair feels between your digits. Woodsy pine scent reaching your nose that twitches in pleasure at the fragrance matching what you always thought he’d smell like.

“Yeah well we ran out of time doll. Couldn’t let what remains of LAF get away,” eyes quickly open only to slam shut again with having you still too near for his own good.

Every brush of your fingers, thighs brushing against his with every move, your flowery scent wrapping around his heart to squeeze tight. Breath punched from his lungs when your knee makes slight contact with his erection. Shooting pleasurable fireworks off behind his closed lids. Wishing for your hands on his body, wondering what they’d feel like over bare skin. If you’d shy away from the scars littering his flesh or… he wouldn’t, didn’t need to think about the alternative.

Unsure why he gasped you move from between his legs and look upon his face confused as to his ridge posture eyes held tightly closed. Insecurities rushing through your mind, setting up shop to remind you no man let alone someone as handsome as Bucky would ever want to look at you. Shoving back those thoughts to ask, “You okay Bucky?”

“Fucking fabulous doll,” bitting out the words while trying to reign in the need to grab hold of your hips, bringing you back against him. Wanting to find out if you’d fit as good or better than what he’s imagined during those dream filled nights he doesn’t talk about with anyone. “Finished?” Praying you’ll say yes, the temptation becoming almost unbearable.

Unconvinced by his words but pushes that aside and stepping farther back to round him, grabbing up the trimmer on the way with a numbered comb. “Almost but then I still have your beard to do.”

“Fuck,” low gravely voice intones the single word hoping you’ve not heard and cursing the heaven for this test of his will and desires. In another life Bucky wouldn’t have hesitated to ask you out, wine and dine with dancing till midnight. Taking you home with a simple kiss of promise with more to come. But he’s different now and you don’t deserve to have a broken man on your hands.

Swallowing harshly to cover your growing need to escape and bury yourself in another program or book to distract from those awful thoughts running around in your mind. Replaying all the brush offs and look aways as rejection shattering your heart. Pushing you to finish his new hair cut that much quicker. “Done, now how short you want your beard?”

“Gone,” knowing exactly what he’s saying and damning himself to the torture of a different kind.

Coming back in front of him, you slip between his parted knees so easily a thought you try to push away while switching the trimmer combs and flicking the on button. Carefully cupping his left cheek while shortening the right for a closer shave once your done. “Surely you didn’t just let them capture you.” Returning to a safer subject other than how good his bearded jaw felt in your warm palm. Wondering how it’d feel in other places.

“Offered myself up for a little bloody torture and a few broken bones. I’m here to tell the tale instead of those guys Y/N. They're off the streets and we have the information needed to finish taking down LAF.” Teeth gritting to keep from rubbing his jaw into your palm, from turning to kiss the center and devour you with his mouth.

Pausing a moment, “But you could’ve gotten killed James.” Sorrow coloring the cadence of your tone, eyes filled with fear at what could’ve happened. “You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped.”

Heart stopping, never had you spoken his first name, always Bucky or Buck, Barnes when your angry but never James. Opening his darken cerulean orbs breath trapped somewhere between lungs and mouth at the sorrow written deep in those eyes he never could not stare into. Heart hammering back to life with the subtle brushing of your fingers over his cheek, “Would it have matter?”

Confusion tips your head to the side, “What you dying or me helping?”

“Dying,” single word dropped like a bomb destroying everything in the path.

“James,” softly spoken with so much emotion held within the countenance of your features. Watching the ghosts float through those beautiful cerulean eyes, memories of a time he couldn’t control, of deeds done to people who didn’t deserve the pain and death he dealt out as the Fist of Hydra. Tears gloss over your eyes once again trying to blink them away to keep them from clogging your emotions filled throat. “It matter’s Barnes, matters to a lot of people you’re just too stubborn to realize that.” Shaking your head to clear the fog and get back to work.

Speechless Bucky just sits there letting you finish up trimmer the hair away as if trying to erase the past months, the torture he let happen with no regard to his personal well being. During this time your words chase around his mind, combined with Sam’s out right demand of him to never put himself in harms way like that again. Adding more questions added than any true answers. Delicate fingers brush over trimmed facial hair bringing him back to the present right as you move to take the barber’s cape from around his neck. Missing the warmth of your touch, heat radiating from your body, your scent filling his nose and making him drunk on you.

Folding the cape to drape over your arm, “I’ll shave you as well come back inside.” Voice slightly rough with unshed tears avoiding looking directly at Bucky and missing the longing written in the ocean pools. Mistaking his lack of response for rejection of your words and feelings. You enter the house placing the small hand load down and moving a chair over towards the sink. Returning to grab up the shaving cream and razor, pulling a fresh wash cloth from the draw by the sink too wet it hot.

“You don’t have to,” entering and closing the back door with the heel of his boot. Bucky leans against the counter watching you with a closed expression. Pain dull but still worming its way through his veins along with so many thoughts.

Glancing his way, “I know,” motioning with a wave of your hand, “but if I don’t that beard’ll come back in short order and we’ll have to do this all over again.” Going for playful to ease the tension built from the lingering words of out on the porch, “Bring your ass over here Buck.”

Your change in mood has a confused frown pulling his mouth down but complies with the order. Taking up the seat with spread legs and turned up face watching you wring out the wash cloth. Using your elbow and tipping his head back to gently place the hot cloth around what’s left of his beard to soften the hair and wake up the pores. Catching the small muffled groan, “To hot?”

“No, perfect,” faintly hearing the two simple words you grab up the shaving cream to put a generous amount in your palm before pulling the quickly cooling cloth from his face. Tossing it towards the sink and applying a layer of cream to his skin. Left overs rinsed from your hands quickly before drying and grasping the razor with steady hands. “Just a little off the top if you please,” boyish smirk slips over his lips tipping cream covered cheeks up while trying to be funny.

Eyes rolling, “To late for that one top’s already taken care of.” Using the pad of your thumb to push the skin of his cheek taunt. Carefully dragging the razor over his flesh intending to keep your gaze directed towards working the blade over his check. However, you’re unable to do so while cleaning the razor as your eyes dart up catching the fact Bucky’s gaze firmly rests on your face. Heat blooming across your body, eyes drop back to his cheek intent on getting finished quickly to avoid any farther embarrassment.

Meanwhile Bucky maps every feature of your face, the slant of your nose, set of your eyes, cupids bow of your top lip. Visions of drawing the plump flesh in for a bite and pull before letting go with a wet pop, filter through his mind. Finding himself in a rather precarious predicament, thighs spread to accommodate your body, his palms itch to grasp and tug you into his lap. Bitting back a moan each touch brings, the gentleness tearing a new hole in armored covered heart. Wanting to keep you out but finding it harder to do every time you show the kindness his life lacked for decades.

Minds eye drawing the curves of your cheeks, lips twitching to caress, fingers tapping trapped in plaster and cloth against his body. Wanting to brush his knuckles over your throat to gently grasp the back of your neck and bring your lips against his for a slow sweet drink of the tempting cavern of your warm mouth. Only snapping back to reality with the soft brush of your fingers along his jawline.

Searching for any hairs left behind, soothingly palming his cheeks with cool hands desperate to taste his skin. Drag your lips over the same spots the razor just graced. Teasing the tip of your tongue along the hard edge of his jaw to place a kiss just below his ear. Tempted to even suck a mark for everyone to see. You swallow harshly removing your hands from his cheeks to rinse and warm up the cloth to clean off any residual shaving cream from his face.

“Finished,” clearing your emotions clogged throat, stepping towards the sink, your profile the only side Bucky sees as you work to clean up the mess.

Feeling rather than hearing him stand heat radiating of his body just a few inches shy of brushing against yours. “Thank you doll,” impulsively leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. Lingering longer than he should but unable too stop himself from pressing soft slight chapped lips to the corner of your mouth. “Next time I need shavin’ I know who to come too,” breathing the words before pulling away, taking his leaving quickly to keep from doing something even stupider. Like wrap you up into his arms and actually kissing those pillow soft lips. Backdoor swinging closed a little harder than he meant in his bid to get away from your warmth and tempting body.

Frozen in place, skin tingling from just that slight press while your heart beats almost out of your chest. Pounding against your rib cage so hard fear it’ll crack a rib any second now. White knuckles grip the sinks edge, heat flaring across your body to pool low and throb through your lady parts. Thighs unconsciously rub together needing friction to alleviate the ache growing between your legs.

“Did you cut him or take a hunk of hair out and now he looks like Frankenstein monster?” Teasing tone to his quip, Sam enters the kitchen still staring at the back door. Having watched the exchange from the darkened hallway. Reverting his eyes to your back, taking in the ridge posture of your spine with a slight very subtle shake. “Y/N what’s wrong?” Swiftly coming up behind you, hands gripping your shoulders to turn you around. “Did Bucky say or do something wrong?” Worry creasing his brow the want to hold you close growing with each second your not in his arms.

Looking up into the kind russet eyes flashing with concern and worry, “No,” head shaking, “no he didn’t Sam just…” unable to stop yourself from burying your body against Sam’s firm chest. Trying to figure out how to explain what’s running around in your head. The indecision, thoughts you know shouldn’t roll through your mind doing just that as your arms wind around his trim waist.

“Just what sweetheart?” Wanting to help smooth things over between his two best friends even if it meant swallowing his own feelings.

Keeping your eyes closed, breathing in his cedar wood and citrus scent, burying your nose against his collarbone. Always able to calm the raging storm of emotions boiling through your veins. Confusion setting in with those same tingles you feel when Bucky touches you now dances across your body at the warmth of Sam’s arms cradling you close. Reminding you of earlier when his chest pressed to your back strong hands gently placed on your shoulders. The shiver you suppressed at the touch of both men. At the memory your eyes pop open and you quickly push away from Sam as if he’s burnt you. Needing to escape and figure out what’s going on.

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter, I’m sorry,” feet quickly taking you from the kitchen into the safe arms of your bedroom.

Missing the confused look marring Sam’s face that turns into hurt at the way you’ve shoved him aside. Body sagging against the counter, hand rubbing at the back of his neck searching for what’s changed in such a short period of time.

“Men, blind and just plain foolish,” landing a hard hit to his shoulder, which he rubs to alleviate the pain. Sarah comes up beside her older brother with a raised brow. “Still don’t get it? Searching for exactly why she reacted so strongly? Think Samuel use that big brain you have and actually put it to good use.”

Frown creasing between his eyes and drawing his lips down, “Left behind sucks Sarah that’s all it amounts to. But we… I couldn’t have her along, wouldn’t risk her life like that.”

“Has nothing to do with leaving her home Sam,” giving him a meaningful look that still bewilders him. “Why didn’t you want her along but you took Bucky with you?”

“He’s a super soldier Sar he can take the hits not that I want him hurt either. Shit when he let himself get captured,” moving towards the abandoned chair to plop down heavily. “He scared the living shit outta me, I thought…” hard to swallow the memories of watching those men pulling an unconscious Bucky into a van. Driving off before he could plant a tracker and barely able to get up with bruised ribs making breathing painful. Sam runs a hand over the short hair unsure when things got so complicated between the three of them.

Pulling up a chair in front of Sam, “You’d lost him?” Seeing the nod Sarah’s features softened knowing from the tell’s she picked up watching the three of them for so long. “You love them?”

“What?” Head whipping up so quickly making Sam wince. “Of course I do but not like that I mean their family, you know I’ll do anything to protect my family.”

Hand resting on his shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that big bro maybe one day you’ll actually believe it and able to push those feelings away good enough to keep them at arms length.” Looking up at her, “Just a word of advice,” seeing him nod, “don’t push those emotions away, you deserve that love they both would readily give you.”

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

Softly closing the door behind you heading towards the ensuite bathroom for a nice cold shower, preforming your nightly routine, and shutting off every light except the one beside your bed. Falling into the soft mattress with your current book keeping you company for the rest of the night. Eyes start to droop, words blur and you read the same sentence half a dozen times. Book falling against your chest as a yawn takes over your features.

Body stretching out against cool sheets jumping when a soft knock echos around your room, eyes darting towards the clock to see its just a little passed mid night. Slowly getting out of bed, pulling the extra long dark blue with little pink flowers dotting the sleep shirt down to cover your ass and thighs. Thinking its Sarah checking on you, eyes shocked wide with the small crack you open the door to spy Bucky standing there fidgeting.

“Everything all right Buck?” Opening the door wider to lean against the casing arms crossed just under your breasts.

Swallowing, glancing from your eyes to lips repeatedly. Trying to form the words he wants to speak when the decision makes itself clear and Bucky surges forward. Gently wrapping vibranium fingers around the back of your neck and bragging you against his strong chest. Slanting his lips against yours, nipping your bottom lip to make you gasp and slipping his eager tongue passed into the warm depths of your mouth. Leading the kiss and praying he’s not wrong.

Rewarded by your arms winding around his neck careful of his injures. Fingers tugging at the now shorten strands thanks to your expect hands. Garnering a low moan from the depths of his chest, one that rambles with a pleased hum as you return the kiss. Tangling your tongues together making nothing soft nor gentle about this melding of mouths. Only breaking apart for both of you to gasp for air.

“No, nothing’s all right doll. I can’t stop thinking about you,” resting your foreheads together sharing common air. Fingers at the base of your skull massaging the tension with surprisingly easy pressure. “I’d done fighting, done pushing you away, I need you Y/N.”

“James?” Lips tingling from a kiss you’ve only dreamt about as confusion marring your tone, eyes blinking a few times to make sure you’ve pushed the sleepy haze from your mind.

Soft groan issues at hearing you whisper just first name, hand slipping down to wrap around your waist and pull your taut to his body. “If…” trying to push the next words past his lips, “if you don’t want…”

“Us, we need to know now sweetheart. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want,” Sam’s voice full of desire and longing cuts across Bucky’s for a moment.

Making you look up from eyes locked with Bucky to stare at Sam trying to process his words, the look in those beautiful russet eyes you can’t pull yours away from. Till Bucky presses a kiss to just below your ear, “We know it’s a lot to take in doll and you can say no…”

“I,” gulping like a fish out of water, heat thumping through your veins at the unspoken promise both sets of eyes show. “I don’t know what to say.”

Stepping forward to push you back a step so Sam can fully enter your bedroom and close the door. He comes behind you sandwiching your body between two walls of muscle and masculine warmth. Pressing a kiss to the opposite cheek, lips brushing over the shell of your ear, “There’s no going back sweetheart you’re ours if you say yes. But if the answer is no I’m not going to lie things will change. Awkward as hell yes especially at first but I,” Bucky clears his throat to which Sam nods, “we would work through that with you. Loosing your friendship can’t happen no matter what.”

Removing yourself from between their warm bodies to collapse at the end of the bed, head in your hands. Mind so confused, a jumbled mix of desire and lust touched with a heavy dose of love that scares the living shit outta you. Feeling the bed dip on either side, removing your hands to glance at both men. Seeing the reassurance in those cerulean and russet orbs you swallow to wet your parched throat. Gaining strength to finally speak, “I don’t want to loose either of you,” looking between both men. Taking each hand within your own, “But this last mission taught me I don’t want to deny my feelings any longer.”

“What feelings doll?” Giving your hand an encouraging squeeze.

Looking into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, “I’m in love with both of you.” Switching to Sam’s russet orbs seeing the blatant want shining only boosts your confidence to lean over. Cupping his jaw and bringing your lips against his. Different from the kiss you shared with Bucky. Who’s bottom lip begs for a nibbling, Sam’s fuller lips press against your own in tender caresses.

Gentler too, a soft slant of his mouth against yours, pressing twice at different angles before tracing over your bottom lip. Gaining entrance on a sigh of need to check in with your tongue before tangling together. Heated palm cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over the apple twice while he artfully pillages your mouth. Drawing out a low moan squeak following when a set of lips slide over the side of your neck nibbling a short path to suck a mark behind your ear. Making you weak and boneless against Sam, who releases your cheek and hand to grip your hips, having you straddle his thighs.

Kiss breaking for air, “I’m to heavy Sam, your hip.”

“You’re prefect baby girl no arguing understand?” Cupping your ass in both hands to roll your hips against the hard bulge of his erection. Teeth gritting at how good you feel in his arms, the damp heat of your core only serving to make him grow harder with each brush against your cloth covered pussy. Sam reclaims your mouth, this kiss much different. Desperate and demanding taking no prisoners this time as he immediately slips his tongue back into your mouth. Pulling a groan from deep within your chest, arms going around his neck to help move your body against his. The delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure radiating out over your body, clit throbbing with a need you’ve never felt before.

Hissing at the cool sensations of Bucky’s vibranium fingers drawing circles across your back. Pushing your sleep shirt off your body arms raising, breaking the kiss to accomplish the task. Looking over your shoulder at the bare chested Barnes, mouth salivating at the sight eager to touch and kiss every inch. Brought back to Sam with the heat of his mouth connecting to your pulse, adding his own mark to your body while his callused fingers dances across your back.

Cursing his rotten luck for not having use of one hand, Bucky steps forward lowering to his knees carefully. Brushing his lips along your spine while cool alloyed fingers sweep around your body between you and Sam to trace a line between your breasts. Head dropping back to Bucky’s shoulder and baring your breasts to Sam’s hungry glaze and Bucky’s questing fingers.

“So beautiful,” words whispered reverently from Sam’s lips against the damp column of your throat. Mouth tasting each inch of your skin he can reach. Till moist heat circles your nipple, wet tip of his tongue coming out to flick the tightly budded peak before sucking harshly. In contrast to the cool patterns Bucky draws, taking the time to tug before pinching just hard enough that your back arches into Sam’s mouth.

Pushing into Bucky at your back a whimper parting your gasping lips. Needing more of both men surrounding you, slick coating your trembling thighs as you clinch around nothing. Dragging a whine of desperation from you soul,“Please,” single word escaping your mouth.

“What doll? What do you want?” Drawing his lips up to your ear, nipping the lobe bringing it between his teeth giving a sharp bite at the same time Sam flicks his tongue over your nipple.

Letting go with a wet pop, smiling at the whine exiting your heaving chest, “I think out girl needs more Buck. Any thoughts on how to please her?” Brow wiggling over your shoulder at Bucky who just smirks.

Fingers sliding down then under the band of your panties to find you soaked and pulsing. Cool metal meeting heated flesh makes you jolt in Sam’s arms. Grinding down into those wonderful fingers and against the thick ridge of Sam’s cock.

“Don’t stop please,” gasping head lolling back, your eyes close as sensations crash through your veins. Tight coil starting to form with just the brush of his fingers.

Maneuvering closer to slip two fingers into your clinching channel. Deep groan vibrating through his chest and into your back, “Fuck Sam she’s tight and so wet for us. I bet she tastes just as good as she feels.” Rocking your hips, fucking his fingers desperate for that high traveling up from the bottom of your spine. Tickling your tummy with jolts of pleasure only to have it diminish when Bucky pulls his fingers out.

Frustrated whine leaving your lips only to choke on air when Bucky offers one of the fingers perviously buried inside your cunt to Sam. Who doesn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around the single digit, groaning at the very taste of your essence. Circling the tip with his tongue, making sure to clear every drop off while keeping eye contact with Bucky. Mimicking with his mouth how he’d suck Bucky’s cock, garnering a growl from deep within his chest. Letting go with a smirk, “Even better Buck and I bet from the source it’s simply heaven.”

“Only way to find out,” answering grin firmly in place he raises from the floor. Helping you stand on shaky legs turning you to face him. Capturing your lips in an open mouth kiss, flicking his tongue against yours, teasing your bottom lip and drawing out another frustrated groan making him chuckle. “Don’t worry doll we promise you won’t go unsatisfied we’re going to take care of your every need.”

“Don’t tease her Buck it’s not fair,” glint of mischief sparking through those russet eyes that only Bucky catches since your still face him. Sam comes up behind to pressing his bare chest against your back, hands resting on your hips, tugging and letting the band of your panties snap back against your skin. “You can still say no.”

Wiggling back against Sam then pressing forward to feel the hard line of Bucky’s erection against your lower tummy. Knowing why he’s asking, seeing the same sentiment mirrored in Bucky’s eyes that warms your heart filling with love for both men. “Now who’s teasing Samuel,” reaching behind you to slide your palm over his ridged cock giving a squeeze at the same time you palm Bucky. “I’m sure my loves,” enjoying the answering growls from both men. Before another word leaves your lips Sam tugs down your panties letting them pool at your feet as Bucky moves you towards the bed.

Swiping the book from the mattress to lay on the nightstand, smile on his lips at finding the well loved copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. Bringing you to sit then lay back against the cool sheets, trailing his vibranium fingers from your cheek down between your breasts. Circling each nipple, giving the right a light pinch that has your back arching and a gasp existing your paired lips. Distracted till Sam gently grips your left ankle, spreading you open to slide between your legs. Pressing kisses alone the inside of your leg towards your thigh. Soft bread tickling your skin making giggles erupt from your mouth.

“I think she likes that Sam,” the comment spoken against your ear. Placing a kiss to your cheek, “Have to remember to let my own beard grow back out.”

Whimpering softly at the thought one hand fisting the sheets as Sam draws his tongue over the crease between thigh and groin. Purposefully avoiding the spot you want him most, “Payback is a bitch boys,” words growled out right as Bucky envelopes your left nipple into the heat of his mouth.

“Teasing half the fun sweetheart have patience,” looking up from between your legs. Stiffen tongue drawing up from your entrance to clit, circling the little throbbing nub and making your back arch, gasping for air.

“Fuck,” single word breathed from deep within your body. Sweat starting to bead across your forehead. Head tossed back into the pillow free hand carding through Bucky’s chestnut hair tugging the strands harshly till he lets your breast go with a wet pop. You guide his mouth up to yours, demandingly taking the kiss over, slipping your tongue into his mouth this time. Swallowing your moans of delight with each thrust of his tongue. Matching the pace Sam sets against your dripping cunt.

Rutting into the mattress to find the prefect friction hoping to ease for a moment the throbbing of his cock. “Stop stealing all those pretty noises Barnes I wanna hear our girl,” reaching up to smack the other mans thigh hard enough to break the two of you apart.

“Sorry not sorry,” giving him a smirk while licking his lips from the heated kiss.

Filing away the fact Bucky knows what means only to have any thought fly from your mind as two thick fingers enter your quivering channel. Slowly thrusting, his mouth suctioned onto your clit, drawing little short patterns making your thighs shake around his head. Slacking off to lazily place kisses over those thighs but still pumping his fingers, crooking them into a come hither motion to brush over that special spongy spot.

Blooming stars behind your tightly closed eyes, “Watch him doll, see how much you loves devouring that pretty cunt.” Voice rough with arousal against your ear, Bucky’s metal fingers dancing over your chest only adding to your heighten state of desire.

At his command you eyes open to lock with Sam’s passion blown blacken eyes. Moaning at the picture he presents you with, panting breath as you keep drawing closer to your orgasm. Only to have Sam back off creating frustrating tension in your body. Gritting out, “I’m going to die if you don’t let me cum.”

Smirk showing in those beloved eyes as he doubles down on your clit. Lips puffy but forming a perfect O too suction and flick his tongue over the engorged nerve bundle. Fingers, third added to stretch you open and picking the pace up as your mouth drops wide in a scream Bucky devours with a deep kiss. To keep from waking the kids or Sarah, his own body on fire with a need to have you both.

Tingles quickly dancing through your veins, breath panting as you break from Bucky’s mouth, one hand gripping the sheets below the other still buried in his hair. Body on fire as you near that perfect orgasm Sam’s intent on giving you.

Denial’s not just a river in Egypt as your eyes pop open at the knock on your door. Reminiscent of what your sluggish brain comes to understand as just a very vivid dream. One that makes your heart drop with the book that’d lay on your chest now face down on the carpeted floor. You stand checking the time of mid night before heading to the door and finding Sarah on the other side with ice cream in hand.

“Figured you might need some cheering up,” letting her in and taking the bowl of your favorite ice cream.

Vivid dream lingering though you don’t share feeling a TMI moment she doesn’t and most likely wouldn’t want to know about her big brother. You steer the topics away from the non existent love life to plans for tomorrow and the coming weekend.