#this won’t happen to you. so why are you acting like it’s the clients faults and not the studio who did the fuckup

[matoitech]

like am i crazy am i the one whose wrong for thinking ppl trying to run businesses should actually try to be professional and also have some awareness abt the market and financial situation of customers rn since money is tight for a LOT of ppl rn, instead of choosing to like .. very publically complain on their business account that ‘there won’t be any fursuit makers left if no one buys fursuits :/‘ what do u expect people to do? pull money out of their asses to spend on luxury items? i’m sure they would if they could! you need to get paid but so does everyone else. not every furry is a doctor. like what are you doing here??

[beenbaanbuun]

Haiii this might be a weird request but I wonder if you could write an angsty Addams!MATZ fic 😭 so sorry if this is weird I've just been feeling really angsty! You can choose whatever happens lol I just wanna cry 🫶🏽

sorry i didn’t write this sooner!!! i really wanted to but i’ve been super busy over the past few days :(( i never feel super confident writing angst but i did my best!!! i hope you enjoy :D

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hongjoong yelled at you… hongjoong never yells. he doesn’t yell when yeosang is being difficult to train or just acting downright feral. he doesn’t yell when clients are being cheeky and asking for far too much. he doesn’t even yell when you’re being a brat and he slips into ‘dom mode’ to punish you. yet he yelled at you just a few minutes ago…

why?

it’s your fault, you tell yourself. if you’d just listened when he told you he was busy, none of this would’ve happened. he was already stressed so why did you think being a brat and pushing his buttons would be a good idea? of course he wouldn’t want to deal with you when he already so much else on his plate with work. it was dumb of you to even think he’d give you the time of day.

you try and keep your tears to a minimum as you stalk through the house. noisy crying would only be another distraction to hongjoong and you don’t want to upset him any more than you already have done. still, despite your best attempts, you can help the shuddered breathing and quiet sniffles as you make your way down the stairs and towards your favourite spot in the house.

the fire is already crackling, drawing you in like the pied piper. you can hear the hushed conversation behind the soft crepitation, but you ignore it, entirely too focussed on how nice it will be to flop onto your favourite rug and fall into a slumber. perhaps when you wake, everything will be fine. maybe hongjoong won’t be mad at you anymore. he’ll smile at you as he tells you you’re forgiven, placing a kiss to your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips. he’ll take you up into his arms and apologise for yelling, speaking to you in the softest, most gentle voice he can muster. it’s a nice thought…

you reach the doorway to the living room, staring up at the large, oak arch that reaches high above your head. it’s carved with intricate details all hand finished by their artist friend, yunho. most of it represents their respective histories, each of their tales beginning from the bottom of the arch and climbing the wood like vines until they reach the apex at the top. prior to your arrival, their wedding had been the carving at apex of the arch, the image of two ravens, each holding a ring within their beaks, sat proudly above everything else.

now, though, the image at the top is entirely different. a lamb with dove wings and a dainty collar around its neck. the ravens still sit proudly on either side of the creature, watching over it as it sleeps. as you stare at it, you can’t help but wonder whether hongjoong will still be upset with you come bedtime. there’s a spare room down the hall that you used to sleep in when you were nothing more than their sugar baby and it was too late for them to send you home alone. perhaps you’ll have to reside in that room tonight, cold and alone and unable to sleep without the warmth of your lovers on either side of you. the thought has you biting your lip to silence a sob.

it doesn’t quite work. you still involuntarily whimper, catching the attention of both seonghwa and yeosang. their hushed conversation halts to a stop as they see you at the doorway, eyes wide and wet as you stare up at the very tippy-top of the arch. your fingers tangle themselves up as they helplessly fiddle with one another, tugging and twisting and picking until blood begins to pool along one of your nail beds. seonghwa can’t recall a time he’s ever seen you like this, and there werewolf had certainly never. they share a wary look.

“my darling lamb,” seonghwa calls to you in a hushed voice. he doesn’t want to startle you by being too loud, but he needs to pull you from this anxious haze you’d found yourself trapped in. he can’t lie that he’s a little relieved when your red ringed eyes flicker over to meet his. smiling is the last thing he wants to do upon seeing you in this state, but he knows his gentle disposition will calm you; it always does. his lips curl up softly. “what happened?”

the werewolf that has taken up residence on your favourite rug watches with concerned eyes. ever since his arrival, you’ve been an annoying little shit. an absolute thorn in his side when he wanted nothing more than to have a peaceful existence in his new home. you have no respect for personal space, you never know when to shut up, and you’re always way too cheerful all the time. they were facts that yeosang just had to accept when he realised you weren’t threatened by his harsh growling and gnashing teeth. all those times he had you pinned to the floor, spit spraying as he warned you to leave him the fuck alone only to have you giggle in his face and call him pretty; that person is nowhere to be seen right now.

“pup?” he hums, deep voice grumbling as his worries work themselves into his tone. even though he quite thoroughly despised you on his entry to the house, it seems you have this magical ability to work your way into the hearts of anyone you set your sights on. you set your sights on him before you even knew him; it took you no time at all to become one of his top priorities. “tell us what’s the matter. we can’t help unless we know?”

you take a few tentative steps into the room, bare feet tapping lightly against the parquet floor. they’re so used to your thundering footsteps as you traverse the house at your excitable pace. the silent footsteps you take towards them make their skin crawl.

you reach the rug, gently lowering yourself until your bare thighs hit the soft fur. your pastel blue skirt—the one that seonghwa had picked out to match the werewolf’s fuzzy blue jumper—bunches up around your waist, but neither of them have the time to admire how perfectly slutty it looked. it hardly seems right when you continue to wordlessly snivel and whimper, not even bothering to lay yourself down alongside your favourite werewolf-shaped pillow.

“hongjoong was mean to me,” you whimper, and seonghwa can’t lie, it confuses him.

hongjoong is mean to you a lot. it’s how he punishes you for being a brat, bullying you into submission until you decide to be a good girl. he calls you names, pushes you around a little—it’s nothing too severe but still enough for him to have earned the reputation as the crueler of the two of them. for a second, seonghwa thinks he’s landed on the answer, you must’ve been a little too bratty and couldn’t handle the consequences…

but that still doesn’t make sense.

if you couldn’t handle the consequences then that must’ve meant you weren’t in the right headspace to be punished. that in itself is nothing new, although normally, you tend to realise that before you decide to go and act out. it could’ve been the case that you didn’t realise you weren’t feeling up for a punishment but then you should’ve used your safeword. the fact that you’re sat downstairs with him and yeosang and not snuggled up in hongjoong’s arms is testament to the fact that you can’t have done that either. his husband would never do something so utterly stupid as to let you out of his sight when you’re clearly still upset over a scene you stopped.

so what happened?

did you just force yourself to take a punishment you didn’t want? no. seonghwa knows you’re too smart to do that just like he knows his husband is too observant not to notice. it’s something else entirely. something that seonghwa just can’t put his finger on.

“i need a little more information than that, darling,” seonghwa coos as he leans forwards to rest his elbows on his lap. his chin sits prettily in the palms of one hand, the other coming to rest atop your head. he pets you a few times, his touch like a cloud as tries to soothe you. your shoulders relax a touch, but your fingers still pick at one another in your lap. seeing you in such a state makes his heart sink. “lamb, what exactly did hongjoong do to make you so upset?”

you sniffle, separating your hands for just a second to wipe your tears away. they fall right back onto your lap, twisting and tugging and smearing the blood around. seonghwa can’t help but be thankful that nothing in the house is pale enough to be stained by your blood; otherwise he’d be marching you the bathroom to wash your hands, begging you to tell him what happened as the two of you walk.

“he yelled at me,” you say simply, as if that would answer all of seonghwa’s questions. it doesn’t. in fact it only fills his mind with more.

“he yelled? as in he raised his voice?” seonghwa asks softly. he hopes that the answer is no; that you just mean that hongjoong has scolded you for something. it’s a little bit of a strong reaction for just a small telling off, but you have been known to take these sorts of things to heart.

but you nod, and seonghwa’s heart sinks. hongjoong never yells at anyone, let alone you, his little dove. seonghwa and yeosang pass an odd look between them.

“master yelled at you?” the werewolf hums as he shuffles his body closer to yours. an arm wraps around your waist and effortlessly tugs you until you’re lay flat against the rug alongside the pretty creature. he lays the hand atop your own, stopping you from doing any more damage to your nail beds. the blood that spills onto his hands is nothing that bothers him. “why would master do that?”

the question is more aimed towards seonghwa than it is you. as close as you are with the couple, it’s only really seonghwa that knows the inner workings of his husbands brain. he always has an explanation to everything hongjoong does…

“i don’t know,” he says, a frown taking over his beautiful features. you hate it because you know it’s your fault. you upset hongjoong, you got yelled at, you told seonghwa, and now you have upset him. every sign points to you…

“it’s my fault,” you whisper. yeosang’s arm tightens around your waist in an instinctive display of protection. from what, he isn’t too sure. “i just wanted him to take a break but he’s too busy right now. i should’ve known.”

of course. seonghwa could’ve guessed it would be down to stress. it’s been a rough few weeks for hongjoong, the stress of yeosang arriving and finding his way into their weird, mismatched family, mixed with an increase in customers with the jewellery business, it’s safe to say hongjoong had barely had a moment free. of course, yeosang has calmed a little by now, but that doesn’t take the stress of the business away from his poor husband. he’s still being worked half to death by demanding clients who have more money than sense.

seonghwa imagines that any moment now, his husband will come to his senses and see that you were just trying to do something nice. that you weren’t just being difficult for the sake of it—which, granted, you often are—but were instead just trying to take care of him. you lacked the grace and finesse that the two of them did, but you still tried. demons, it fills his heart with love to know that you desire to care for them in the same way they care about you. you’re such a precious little lamb for them; they must’ve done something very special in their past life to deserve you.

“oh, my lamb,” seonghwa mumbles through a soft smile, “you have nothing to blame yourself for except being at the mercy of your own empathy. you prodded him because you were worried and that’s very thoughtful of you. your daddy should be worshipping you for such a kind act. i’ll go and see if i can’t talk some sense into him, hm?”

he stands up, long flowing trousers pooling gracefully over his feet. his red nails dance along them as he straightens the material out, trying to iron out the creases with only his bare hands.

“i’ll be back soon,” he hums, “let your puppy take care of you for now.”

[thatlovinfeelin]

Flightless Bird | ten | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Synopsis: Josephine Wilson Miller is alone for the first time in her life. She got married after her first year of college and became a housewife, but that life is gone now. So she runs to San Diego, to her childhood best friend Jake, where she meets the man who could very well be her salvation.

series warnings: unplanned pregnancy, just pregnancy in general, talks of infertility. past mental and emotional abuse. anxiety. talks of women's reproductive systems (idk)

“My client is not in agreement with these terms.”

Josephine clenched her fists. She’d been in this damn conference room for two hours while her lawyer argued with Michael’s. She just needed this to be over already. He was the one that kicked her out, so why the hell wouldn’t he just sign the damn papers and be done with it?

“I think you’ll find these conditions are more than favorable for your client,” Her lawyer responded calmly, “Mrs. Miller isn’t asking for any assets, in fact she wants nothing from your client. Mrs. Miller’s only request has been made very clear, we feel it’s quite simple.”

Jose could hear Michael mumble something on the other end of the phone. She knew he was there, of course, even if they hadn’t said a single word to one another. They’d been going back and forth through their lawyers for weeks now. But he kept dragging his feet at every turn, making every possible excuse as to why the divorce wasn’t fair.

“You and your client are asking my client, Mr. Miller, to sign away his rights. This is no simple matter.”

“I think you’ll find, given the situation that-”

“Michael, can you hear me?” Jose cut off her lawyer. 

“Mrs. Miller, please.”

“I’d like to speak with my husband, since legally, we’re still married. Michael?”

She could hear him clearing his throat, “I’m here.”

“Why are you being so stubborn? You’re the one that made this happen,” Jose reminded him softly, “I’m not asking for anything more than what you made clear you wanted.”

“Oh, that’s how you see it?” He scoffed. 

“You threw me out, in the cold. I had nowhere to go, because I didn’t have a life outside of you. All because I dared to say I wanted to keep the baby,” She reminded him, “You didn’t want anything to do with either of us, and you still don’t. Stop acting like you do.”

“No, no, you made that choice. You chose to leave.”

“You can keep everything, the apartment, the money, all of the investments we made. I don’t want any of it anymore,” She pleaded, “Just sign the papers, please Michael. Stop the cycle here, don’t be like your father. Don’t use this child…my child…as a bargaining chip.”

“Josephine, you just love to paint everyone else as the villain in your story. It’s always everyone else’s fault, never your own. You told me you weren’t able to conceive, so we made a different life for ourselves. Don’t blame me because you lied and changed your mind.”

Jose held onto her stomach, feeling his words hit her like knives, “You know I never lied about that. You were at so many of those appointments. Michael, please think about what you’re doing. You’re trying to use an innocent little baby girl as leverage. She hasn’t done anything yet, she didn’t choose to exist, but she does. It isn’t her fault.”

The silence seemed to be so loud it almost hurt. Her lawyer sat quietly next to her, waiting for the next move. Up until now, Michael and Jose hadn’t spoken to one another since she left New York. Aside from the text messages Michael sent to tell her to get Jake off of his back.

“It’s a girl?”

She wasn’t sure if she imagined the sound of his voice breaking or not, “I found out last week. She’s healthy, ten fingers and toes. Mi, our marriage was over a long time before she came about. You know it just as much as I do. Don’t punish her for our mistakes.”

“You want me to sign away all of my rights to her.”

“It’s just as much for her as it is for you. It’ll protect you, no one could ever claim you have to pay any type of support. Your name won’t go on her birth certificate, as far as anyone is concerned, I’m her only parent. Michael, you can continue to live your life with no strings. You can find someone who will actually be good at all of the games. I was never fit for that life, no matter how hard I tried.”

“Josephine, I-”

“We loved each other once, Michael. I know we did. But those kids that fell in love and got married have been gone for a long time now. We’ve been holding each other back and hurting each other at every turn. So please, do right by our daughter. The best thing you could ever do for her is give her up.”

“I-” He took a deep breath, “You’re right. The papers will be faxed to you no later than tomorrow evening.”

Josephine sunk back in her chair with tears swelling in her eyes, “Thank you.”

“Jose?”

“Yeah Mi?”

“You’re going to be an amazing mother,” He said softly, “Our daughter…your daughter is lucky.”

“I hope one day you get to see her, Michael, but it will always be her choice.”

“Goodbye, Jose.”

“Bye, Mi.”

When Jose came bursting through Jake’s front door three hours later with signed divorce papers in her hands, she didn’t expect to run right into Jake and Phoenix on the couch. They both jumped up, quickly moving away from one another. Which only seemed to make Jose laugh. 

“Sorry, don’t mind me,” Jose held her hands up, “Go back to whatever it was you were doing. I’ll just leave.”

“Hey wait!” The other woman yelled, “How did it go?”

“Well, the next item on the to-do list is to legally change my name back to Wilson,” She shrugged, “Michael agreed to sign the papers. The office sent them over an hour ago, I’m officially no longer married.”

Jake and Natasha were on Jose in an instant, both hugging her tightly. Jose laughed and hugged them back. Her baby might not legally have a father, but she already had some of the best family. In another world, Jose might be scared about doing this without a partner beside her, but she knew she wouldn’t be alone. She would always have Jake, and Phoenix, and Bradley and anyone else that came along with them. She was making her own little family. 

“How did you manage it?” Nat asked her once they all settled into the living room. 

“I think I appealed to the boy I fell in love with. There was still some humanity left in there somewhere.”

“Have you told Bradley?” Jake questioned. 

“No, I came straight home to tell you.”

Natasha pulled out her phone, “I’m telling him to get his ass over here.”

“What? Why? Nat stop!”

“Too late,” The woman grinned, “You probably have less than five minutes.”

“I say she has two,” Jake chimed in, “He’s pretty fast.”

“Why did you do that?” Jose questioned, standing up. 

“Because you like him,” Natasha shrugged, “And you’re single now.”

“I’m pregnant! It doesn’t matter who I like!” Jose argued, “Jake! Help me!”

“Sweetheart, we’ve had this conversation one too many times already,” Jake sighed, “And I’m tired of Bradshaw playing a one sided game of twenty questions about you while we’re on base.”

“He asks about me?” 

“Too much,” Jake rolled his eyes, “In any other situation I wouldn’t be supporting this. I know you’re scared, but I also know the two of you have some kind of bond that I don’t understand. I trust him. So, let your guard down for a minute.”

“You know why I can’t do that,” Jose argued. 

“Don’t use her as an excuse,” Jake was standing in front of Jose now with his hands on her shoulders, “It’s okay that you’re scared, but don’t use your daughter as an out, okay? Be a big girl and accept the fact that you have feelings.”

“Jake, I think it’s a good day to sit out on the back patio, don’t you?” Natasha questioned, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Phoenix, I think that’s a great idea,” He smirked, leaning over to kiss Jose’s forehead, “Holler if you need us, Sweetheart. Play nice.”

“I hate you both so much right now.”

It took five minutes for the knock on Jake’s door. Josephine’s hands were all sweaty by the time she reached for the handle. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say, or what Natasha even said to get Bradley over here. 

It took her less than a second to realize just how nervous she was. Which seemed weird, she never really felt nervous around Bradley. Always an overwhelming sense of calm, yet not her heart was pounding like it might burst.

“Hey are you okay?” Bradley asked frantically the second Jose opened the door.

“I’m fine,” She said quickly, “I promise, everyone is okay.”

“Phoenix said I needed to get over here as-” Bradley stopped and looked at the woman in front of him, “Why are you smiling like that? What’s going on?”

Jose reached forward, pulling Bradley towards her. His eyebrows were pinched together as he put his arms around her. Despite everything, Jose couldn’t think about anything other than the man before her. 

“I’m free,” She told him softly, “He signed the papers today.”

“Jose, that’s amazing,” His voice was so tender it made her heart seem to jump. 

“I meant what I said,” She whispered, “I want you in my life.”

“I’m right here.”

She had to get on her toes, which in her current state was harder than it should have been. Bradley stayed still, not wanting to scare her. But he liked when she seemed braver, he liked when she was like this. Her eyes flicked back up to his for a moment before she leaned in the rest of the way. 

Then it was just them. Just Bradley and Jose, and the sparks that she wasn’t going to ignore anymore.

[free-for-all-fics]

Helmut Zemo as a fashion designer/Suitkovia AU fic ideas and prompts! Some featuring Bucky. Idk why I love this AU so much but inspiration hit. Pls tag me if you use or get inspired by any of these! I’d love to read it! 💜

1. He’s sort of a mix between Miranda Priestly from Devil Wears Prada and Cruella De Vil from 101 Dalmatians (minus the make puppies into a coat thing). Zemo is either a widower or divorced with a son, Carl. Reader is the fresh new intern/second assistant who at first seems very naive, like a walking fashion faux pas and a total disaster. Everyone expects her to be fired soon, but Zemo keeps her on and as she transforms into a better version of herself and becomes his favorite intern/second assistant, she slowly breaks through that cold and cynical exterior of his and they fall in love.

2. Zemo’s upcoming designs were leaked then premiered by a rival designer of his through fault of reader’s relative. (“You had one job and you failed. Details of your incompetence do not interest me.”) This leak cost Zemo millions, so under threat of incarceration/a crippling lawsuit reader’s family can’t afford, reader’s first task is to come up with new designs within 30 days or some crazy deadline to make up for the ones that were leaked. She becomes an indentured employee and has to work for Zemo, and a fraction of what she would’ve earned for her work is deducted from her paychecks, in order to pay off the debt her family incurred from the design theft. But then uh oh what if they catch feelings? After all, it’d take months or years to pay off that debt.

3. Reader has an identical twin sister who works as the latest cover model for Zemo. Your sister respects him as her employer, but she can’t stand him as a person, believing him too narcissistic or too megalomaniacal. Something unexpected happens in your sister’s life that makes her ask (more like beg) you to switch places as Zemo’s cover model and pretend to be her just for a few weeks. Nobody will even notice and Zemo especially won’t since he’s so busy and traveling all the time, she assured you. But modeling is much harder than you thought it would be. You’re camera shy and awkward, and things get more tense when Zemo changes his schedule and ends up getting more involved during the shoots and run throughs, directing the photographers and acting as head stylist.

He just thinks your “behavior shift” is a new technique your sister’s using to give off the shy, coy flirtatious look and he loves it. He wants more of it. The longer you pretend to be your sister, the more you and Zemo bond and break down his walls as he opens up to you. You develop a friendship which may turn romantic. When it comes time for you and your sister to switch back before her trip abroad for Fashion Week, the situation becomes complicated as Zemo is left wondering why he’s suddenly getting the cold shoulder and strictly professional treatment as if nothing’s happened. Why won’t you let him hold your hand or kiss you? He thinks he’s in love with your sister, but it’s you. It’s always been you. And the woman in front of him now is not you. And he isn’t aware of what you and your sister had done.

4. You're a tailor, working with only the richest and most famous of clients. You're in the middle of measuring your latest client when you accidentally press your fingers along his shoulder in the wrong spot while using the measuring tape and his left arm falls off.

(Possible AU where Zemo is a world renowned high-end fashion designer and you’re his adult daughter who falls in love with hot shot A-list actor Bucky when he comes into the office/shop for a suit. The more he comes in for repairs or adjustments, you start to think he’s purposely damaging his clothes as an excuse to see you. Your father doesn’t want you to date him for any number of reasons but you go against his wishes and it’s a secret love affair. OR a love triangle/Poly story between Zemo, Bucky, and you, where you work for Zemo but both of these highly famous and wealthy men want you.)

5. Your parents left you a tailoring business when they passed. You discover your parents were the creators of the most iconic superhero costumes in the world. Super heroes exist. All your childhood heroes are alive and fighting crime. You are not a hero nor do you have powers. Except your ability to tailor and repair damaged hero uniforms. A frequent customer enters your shop for repairs and you've had enough. The hero's costume was terrible. The townspeople think so, their dog thinks so, their sidekick is embarrassed to be seen with them, the villain stops his attack to comment on their fashion sense, and even the news reporter says their costume is bad.

6. Fantasy/hitman AU: You have recently inherited an old and well made wardrobe, along with a personal tailor from a family will. This wardrobe always has the clothes it turns out you’d most need on any given day; A dress or suit for an impromptu business opportunity, etc. Today, however, a bulletproof vest hangs within. And this tailor comes with skills that are said to be incomparable to anyone else's. “Just because I'm a hitman doesn't mean I can't be a good tailor.”

7. Zemo, A fashion designer, hires Bucky, a con man, to help sell his new collection at an upcoming fashion show. "Do you want to milk your guests for all the money they have or do you want to leave a good memory?" Bucky asks.

"Can I do both?"

The con man laughs, "Absolutely, here is what you do….” Reader is either a model, designer, or intern who gets roped in. Possible poly relationship or chaotic partners in crime trio.

8. Ghost AU: Being an aspiring fashion historian, you actively seek vintage clothing. You somehow managed to coax out a corset from a collector, however, as soon as you wear it, things start to go haywire, as the corset has a life of its own. Of course, it is harbouring a vengeful spirit! So When you first saw the ghost appear behind you in the mirror, you ran screaming. The second time, you were afraid, but you realised he didn't want to hurt you. Now you're both friends, and he often gives you helpful fashion advice. A horror movie where the only horror is the fashion choices.

9. Spy/Crime AU: You work for a cute little boutique as a seamstress. You are highly skilled, best known for your high-quality evening/formal wear and handbags. You typically cater to affluent businessmen and the like. Recently, an atypical customer stopped into your shop with a strange request and a LOT of money. How can you refuse? You're closing up the shop for the night when you see five men walk in through the front door and lock it behind them. You’re very surprised when one of the men go to an inconspicuous framed picture hanging on the wall. It’s just a picture of flowers or something generic, what’s so special— oh. He turns it counter-clockwise, revealing a secret passageway behind a one-way mirror.

After he performs the typical eye and hand scan, you’re ordered to follow. Turns out this “cute little boutique” has been a front for special operatives for many years. In their secret meeting place, they give you your new alias and the run down of your first assignment. You've been tasked with a special project: 12 poison-laced sweaters to go with a poison-laced dress. Later, You receive a knock at the door and an important looking man in a black tailored suit hands you a sealed envelope with your name on it. You open it to find a check written to your name for $65 million with the note, "Let's do this" in the memo.

10. Reader is the new PR intern/publicist for an anti-hero seamstress who specializes in making costumes for supervillains. What reader didn’t know is that the interview was actually a ruse to find the perfect doppelgänger. Reader is selected as the body double to get the seamstress out of an arranged marriage with her rival fashion designer and supervillain, Helmut Zemo. When you do finally meet him, you can’t help but think this guy's so boring. Too subtle. But your instincts as a journalist tell you something else is going on with him.

11. Bucky is the personal assistant and bodyguard of the reader, a famous fashion designer. The media knows that you have this intense long-standing rivalry against another fashion designer, Helmut Zemo. It means Bucky has done his job well since he’s secretly paid to hide the 'rivals’' secret dates and relationship from the public by perpetuating this false narrative of a never-ending animosity between you two.

12. Spy/Crime/Political Espinoage AU: You’re the Secret Service's Secret Seamstress. It’s your responsibility to protect the President from any possible wardrobe malfunction (ripped trousers, food stains, sweat marks, etc.) while in the public eye. You must take precautions before and during any large event. You unwittingly cross paths with Helmut Zemo, codename V. He’s a special kind of tailor, a man who not just fits clothes but also weapons for assassins and wet workers. He’s now getting ready to tailor the men who are about to start a revolution, the assassination of the world leaders. Other key players among this revolution are James “Bucky” Barnes, codename Winter and Sam Wilson, codename Falcon. And since you were in the wrong place at the wrong time and are now a witness, the only way these men keep you alive is if you become involved in the conspiracy and join their team. Perhaps they’ll fake your death and give you a new identity to go along with their newest round of aliases. You could be a sparrow, a secret agent trained in the act of seduction.

13. You work for Helmut Zemo and are the only person to not filter yourself around him. You’re not starstruck or intimidated by him in the slightest. He keeps you on because your brutal honesty is refreshing when he’s surrounded by fake smiles and major suck ups. The constant fawning and groveling gets old. You whip him back into shape whenever he’s being difficult. “Remind me again why I should feel bad for you? You got a supermodel wife that practically worships the ground you stand on, you have enough money to buy the whole country of New Zealand, and you live in the most expensive house on the planet! C’mon, man. You’re famous, handsome, and rich. So chop, chop, fix your hair and let’s get going.” God, he loves you. He hasn’t admitted it to you yet, but he’s been thinking of divorcing his trophy wife and marrying you instead. He might start an extramarital affair with you if he gets too impatient. It’s not like his wife is faithful to him anyway, their farce of a marriage is wide open.

14. Mean Girls inspired AU: You’re an aspiring fashion designer just like your famous and influential father, Helmut Zemo. But under his orders you’ve just been transferred from homeschooling to a prestigious private school for rich kids - with the most drab and boring wardrobe choices ever made. After your bodyguard, Bucky, drops you off at school, You fall in with a group of ‘mean girls’ on your first day. You, a self-proclaimed fashion guru, are dropped into a new world and challenge all your new peers’ questionable fashion choices - from hair to clothing, form and function. From there, you start to get into all kinds of teenage trouble: skipping school, partying, underage drinking, etc. Until one day you and your new girlfriends decide to ignore/stretch the limits of the school’s arbitrary dress code by redesigning the uniform and showing it off at school. Even if your transgressions land you detention or suspension and gets you in heaps of trouble with your dad, Bucky will back you up at least…You hope.

15. Sort of Pretty Woman inspired Sugar Daddy AU: You finally see him, the head of the fashion police: Helmut Zemo. And he’s caught you red handed in the middle of the street. “Did you steal my old clothes from the dumpster?"

"Sorry if I can't walk into a boutique and ask the clerk 'Excuse me, do you happen to have this $4,500 designer luxury Louis Vutton dress in the next size up?’ or throw away a $3,000 Prada suit and briefcase like it’s nothing.”

“I could call the police on you— Wait. Turn around. Let me get a good look at you.” Great, you’ve just met the guy and he’s already ordering you around and inspecting you like a prize cow at auction. “Here’s my offer: If you can pretend to be my girlfriend for the week and attend a few events with me, I’ll let this go and buy you whatever you want. You can talk with my stylist. He might be able to give you something to wear so that I don’t need to burn my eyes out every time I look at you. Do we have a deal? It doesn’t hurt anyone to give just an ounce of effort, you know.” Ok so he’s kind of a classist asshole, but you’ll take it since he’s offered you $3,000 and a new wardrobe to start. How hard can it be to act like arm candy?

16. Zemo is interested in curves and designs clothes for plus sized women. His models have to be size 12 or up. Bucky, his first assistant, has recently scouted you, a little miss nobody from down the street for the new cover model job. Zemo goes through first and second assistants quickly, but Bucky has managed to stay on the longest, so Zemo trusts his judgment. His last 9 assistants were all disappointments, to say the least. But he ultimately has the final say. You’ve just been brought in to meet him face to face for the first time. He looks at you over the rim of his glasses.

“Who’s this? The new option for the cover campaign. I told you I wanted a new look. One that says beautiful but also intellectual. Have you finally brought me a muse that can think as well as they look?”

“This isn’t about being the skinniest model or the prettiest model. This is an intellectual shoot. I want it to be different. I don’t want-“ He lets out a short exasperated sigh. “Let’s just say if I wanted another pretty face, I would’ve chosen from the next, what, twenty models that are standing outside of my office hoping to get a job. You know that many would kill to be in your position?”

17. Twilight Zone After Hours/Evening Primrose inspired AU: Reader is Helmut Zemo’s daughter and has lived in a shopping mall with him and the rest of her “family” who all consist of living mannequins. Or inanimate mannequins by day, living humans by night. Night at the Museum logic.

Reader discovers a man on the run, Bucky Barnes, has broken in and taken refuge from the world by hiding out in a department store. The leader of the group is Helmut Zemo, Reader’s adoptive father. Zemo permits Bucky to stay after Reader takes responsibility for him, advocating that he’ll be useful and she’ll keep him in line. Zemo spares Bucky’s life but warns him against doing anything foolish. Wherever Bucky goes, someone will always be watching. even if it’s not Zemo and even if it’s daylight. Over time, Bucky becomes smitten with Reader during their nightly visits.

Reader has lived in the mall since she got lost and separated from her ‘other mother’ as a child. Her memory is foggy but she believes she was once human, resurrected by Zemo in a new body through the same Pygmalion-esque means as he and all the other living mannequins. She has since been taken in as Zemo’s daughter after he lost his previous family, created in what he describes as the ‘perfect image of the daughter he and his lost wife never had.’

Reader is unhappy and wants to leave for good, but is afraid of the ‘Dark Men’, people who live in a nearby mortuary and work for her father. They’re hardly ever seen, but their overarching presence is still felt. Like an omniscient shadow that looks over them. Should someone try to return to the outside world and risk revealing the group's existence, the Dark Men take them away and another mannequin appears in their place. Reader tries to tell Bucky about her life when she was human, before her transformation, but realizes that most of her memories from before have been replaced with fabricated childhood memories as Zemo’s daughter. Her past self is practically gone. Bucky comes up with a plan while playing cards with Zemo and other mannequins, and Reader finally decides to leave with him. Bucky is initially reluctant to leave his now-comfortable life, but then understands that he loves Reader more than most things and they plan to elope. If there’s a way to turn mannequins human for the night, surely there’s a way to turn the mannequins human permanently! But then Zemo and the others hear their plans, and they call the Dark Men, as Reader and Bucky try to escape.

18. Spy AU: Something major has been going on in the underground crime world, and you’re asked to intern under Agent Zemo and go undercover to find out what it is. You're a tailor, spy master and survivalist who has both designed and worn state of the art disguises/outfits that allow you to conceal microphones, cameras, weapons, and anything else you may need according to the mission. Zemo is your boss and senior agent/director by night, and his cover as a fashion designer by day works well. He provides you with only the latest and best in his fashion lines, both for everyday and espionage. The latest tasks of which is impersonating a celebrity/socialite and designing a dress to be worn by a female spy at the World Summit as a bugging device so they can get very important intel.

The trouble is, the intended agent can’t perform the job for whatever reason. And you’re the only other woman with a close enough resemblance. So it looks like it has to be you, or else the whole operation is a bust. The closer you seem to get to uncovering the truth, the weirder things get. Zemo begins acting very strangely, when he starts receiving threats from anonymous persons - Magazine cut out notes urging him to work faster, untraceable phone calls with modulated voices, dead flowers, etc. You and he begin to piece the mystery together, but will either of you live long enough to see it through?

19. Journalist AU: You’re a journalist who’s been tasked by your chief editor to get an interview with Helmut Zemo, the country’s hottest fashion designer on the market. Every time you think you have a good story, a competitor gets to it first, so your workplace has been on your ass about getting this exclusive interview. Too bad Zemo is a very elusive and private man who doesn’t do many interviews, autograph sessions, or anything like that. He keeps to himself, outright refusing and slipping away from any news outlets no matter how hard they try to corner him. Your boss pitches a new idea: Zemo has never met you, so he has no idea what you look like. If you can go undercover, gain his trust, and find out everything you can about his personal and business life, then you’ll be promoted. A man like him must have secrets. You’re very attractive and intelligent, so if anyone can do this, it’s you.

When you do meet him for the first time, it’s not at a big fancy runway event or a rich person’s house party, but rather a coffee shop, a dog park, or somewhere else that’s common. He’s disguised in basic casual clothes and eyeglasses. In this outfit, he’s the little gray man. He looks so forgettable that nobody even recognizes him. Huh. Guess the drab “Clark Kent” disguise actually works. You get to talking and he doesn’t tell you who he is, even though you already know. He only says that he works “In retail” when you ask what he does for a living. You don’t tell him where you work or what you do either. Only that you’re at a “desk job”. But then uh oh when you and Zemo catch feelings for each other and what started off as pretend becomes real. Uh oh when Zemo feels hurt and betrayed after he finds out the truth about why you got close to him and that your “fateful meeting” was actually all a set up for your exposé piece.

20. You're a thug-for-hire guarding a warehouse for your boss, Helmut Zemo. And good thing, too: a mild-mannered journalist just tried to break in, but you knocked them out before they could cause any trouble. You decide to search their pockets for loose change--and have just found their superhero uniform and ID. (Journalist could be Bucky or whoever you want)

21. Zemo’s business empire is completely centered around his cold and ruthless persona. You’re a journalist who took up a job at a local tabloid for a quick source of cash between jobs. You’ve caught him secretly doing something nice, and on top of that, he was being nice to children. The story is due to come out tomorrow, and will ruin Zemo financially if it does. He must stop you.

[avintagekiss24]

—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”

[softboywriting]

Meet The Parents | Billy Russo

Summary: You introduce Billy to your parents and it doesn’t go as well as you hope. [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] [Problematic Parents/Divorced] [Parents Fighting] [Language] [Flirting] [Flashback/Nightmare]

 Word Count: 3.8k 

 A/N: This is a follow up to my first fic Little Moments but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

---

The office is quiet, and has been for the whole day. Billy has been out at a client meeting since you got in. Anvil is becoming quite popular in the private military market, having taken on three new contracts in the last two weeks. You're proud of Billy, he works hard to win over his clients and offer top of the line service. As the primary contact for all contracts and placements, you've gotten busy too. More business means more expenses, and more employees to keep track of. You don't mind, it keeps you active and engaged. There is nothing more you hate than just sitting around staring at the wall or watching cat videos for the billionth time.

"Hey sweetheart."

You glance up from your work and see Billy closing the office door behind him. He's dressed up, black and grey patterned silk shirt, expensive black suit, the tailored jacket over his arm. He looks positively delicious if you do say so. Those shirts are the best thing you ever convinced him to wear.

"Hey yourself. How'd the meeting go?"

"Shitty." He sneers and tosses his jacket on his office chair. He begins unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to roll them up to his elbows. "The guy brought his daughter."

"Okay? What does she have to do with anything?"

Billy raises his eyebrows in an 'are you shitting me' expression. "His daughter is a model. Not naturally talented mind you, paid for by her daddy. Clearly he thought havin' her there would sway me into acceptin' the number he offered for the contract you wrote up. Like he's doing me a favor."

You stand and walk around the desk, eyes going up and down his chest. "You didn't do anything did you?"

"What kinda man do you think I am?" Billy walks you back against your desk, pinning you in with his hands on the top behind you. He drops his head to yours and stares at you with those dark endless eyes. "You think I'd fuck around?"

"I know you won't, you're too gone for me." You run your hands up his back and he arches against you. "Did she try?"

"She tried. Even sat on my lap."

"In front of her dad?"

"Mmmhmm." Billy drops his face to your neck and mouths at your skin. "I don't mind a little show and tell but even I got boundaries. Parental peepshows are off limits."

You laugh softly and he brings one hand against your lower back up to pull you against him. "Take it easy. You know the rules. No relationship stuff while I'm on the clock."

He groans, pulling his head back to look at you. "I need to touch you though. I don't want her lingering on me."

"I know." You step out of his hold and he lets his hand drag across your back as you escape his grasp. "Just another hour okay? I've gotta wrap a few things up."

Billy pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his shirt. "Why did I ever make these rules?" He sinks down in his chair and spreads his legs, lolling his head against the back. He really is such a tempting little tease. How could you resist a man like that? Truth be told it's hard.

You take a seat behind your desk and focus your eyes on the invoices on screen. "You made them because you want Anvil to remain professional and not a playground."

"Bullshit."

"Your bullshit."

Billy bites his lip and gives you that look. The one that says he isn't to be messed with, that he's gonna get what he wants no matter what. And oh it's so tempting to get up and go sit on his lap in that chair. It's always been a fantasy of yours. One you haven't gotten to full fill due to his rules. He's really only cockblocking himself.

"C'mere."

"No, Billy."

"C'mon, be bad. Break my rules."

"No! You're such a jerk!" You laugh and he chuckles playfully. "We have dinner with my parents after this anyway. I'm not breaking your rules and getting all messy before we go see my parents. You hear? Parents."

"Always such a good girl."

"You like it."

"Damn right I do." He pushes up out of his chair and crosses the office to cradle your head and press a chaste kiss to your temple. "I'm gonna go home and get ready. Anything you want me to lay out for you? I think you've got a few things at the apartment."  

"The blue dress. I picked it up from the cleaners last week with a few suits. It should be in your closet."

"The one I bought you a while back for the client dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that a little revealing for a parents dinner?"

You raise your eyebrows and he narrows his eyes.

"You're a monster." He presses his lips to your ear. "If you keep teasing me I'll have to put you in your place."

"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Oh sweetheart, you have no idea what you're askin' for." Billy kisses your cheek and steps away. "Playin' with fire will get you burned."

You smile innocently. "See you later."

"You're terrible." He goes to the door and stops, looking back once more. "But I love you."

"Love you too Billy."

"Ugh," he groans, slapping a hand over his chest. "Say it again."

"Love you?" You giggle and he acts even more dramatic, pretending to swoon against the door. "What are you doing?"

"Being you."

"Wh- you son of a bitch! Get out!" You throw your squishy stress ball at him and he cackles as he runs from the office. What a child.

_____________________

"Oh, this is your boyfriend?" Your mother asks in actual surprise. As if you weren't meant to have a man that looks like Billy Russo. Truth be told you had never dated anyone half as attractive, not to you anyways. "He's so...well dressed."

Billy takes your mom's hand and kisses it politely. "We're all well dressed here ma'am. You look lovely too."

"Thank you." She flushes and giggles.

Billy gives a warm smile and tugs you closer. His hand on your back is radiating heat, its comforting. He knows you're tense. This dinner will be a strain on your nerves and he had been warned how difficult your parents can be.

"Your father should be here soon. I told him not to be late." Mom says huffily, eyeing the doors to the restaurant. You've met up with her outside and you're currently waiting for your dad to arrive. Your parents have been split for ten years and it's been hard, but not as hard as it would have been if they had divorced when you were still a young child. Well, you like to think that anyways. They waited, held on to their shit until you were graduated and old enough to understand that some people don't remain in love.

Billy leans in and presses his lips to your ear. "Are your parents going to fight? This place is very nice, I don't want to cause a scene."

"It'll be fine. They can hold it together for a few hours. I hope. Just don't mention their personal lives. It's a sore spot for mom. Dad isn't single anymore."

"Gotcha."

"Sorry I'm late." You turn and see your dad walking towards you. "Some asshole parked his Rolls Royce just on the line and I hardly squeezed into the only spot open beside it."

Mom scoffs and rolls her eyes. She bites her tongue but you know what she would say. Some comments about his truck being too damn big and a gas guzzler.

Dad puts his hand out for Billy. "You must be the lucky guy!"

Billy takes it and smiles a beautiful, toothy, shit eating grin. "Billy Russo, the asshole who parked his Rolls Royce a bit close to the line."

The way Dad's face turns pale and then red with embarrassment makes the whole evening worthwhile up until then. "That's yours?"

"One hundred percent. Bought and paid for."

"That's a beautiful piece of machinery. Expensive."

Billy leans his head on yours. "I only go for the best."

"Well you know I-"

"Oh shut up already, let's go inside." Mom says and grabs your dad's arm. "Always babbling on about shit when we've got things to do."

"Y'know what-" the conversation fades as your parents head into the restaurant. You're glad. It is bound to be petty anyways. Always was with them. Bickering children they should be called.

"Relax." Billy says in your ear, hand traveling up and down your side. "I can win over your parents for one night."

"You could charm anyone into anything and I've seen as much. You're a silver tongued sn-"

Billy catches your jaw in a light hold and presses a kiss to your lips. Your hand slides up into his hair and he grins into the kiss. "Easy now. We've not even gotten seated yet."

"Your fault."

"Usually is."

____________________

You stare at yourself in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. Dinner wasn't going so great and you had barely made it through an appetizer and drinks.

Your parents couldn't stop arguing, Billy was trying his best to charm them but apparently they're uncharmable, and you were left to play referee for your parents against each other or them against you and Billy.

It is a whole mess and you want to just leave, just walk out say fuck everything and go to Billy's apartment and go to bed. You haven't even had a chance to tease Billy like you were planning, hell, you've barely gotten a word in that wasn't defending him or fielding your parents insults they continuously hurdled over the table at one another.

The door rattles on your left and you clear your throat. "Occupied!" You shout and it stops.

It's a single use bathroom, not a multi-stall type set up. So the person outside would just have to wait until you were done having your crisis. Maybe not so fair to them but you'll be damned if you won't let yourself have a moment.

The handle turns and you back into the sink as the door opens. To your surprise it is Billy, not some worker with a key. "What the-"

"Your parents are insufferable. How the hell did you grow up with them? I mean I was in a group home and a few of the adults weren't great but holy shit they weren't my parents."

"I'm sorry."

Billy closes the door and shakes his head, taking your hands in his. "Don't be sorry for their actions. Never apologize for anyone but yourself."

"I knew this would happen. I just thought that maybe...I don't know...maybe they'd be different. Maybe they'd be proud of me, of you, so they would get along for two fucking hours."

"Sweetheart, you're nearly thirty, you're still seeking your parents approval?"

You laugh joylessly and bite the inside of your cheek. "You don't understand. You can't understand."

Billy brings your forehead to his lips and he rubs your back. He's always so affectionate with you, careful to hold and to love you like a man who never received it himself so he wants to make sure those he loves receives it tenfold.

"I understand seeking approval, but there is nothing you need approval for. You're an adult with a good job, a place to stay, an outstanding boyfriend with his own company. I'd say you're doin' alright honey."

You let out an actual little laugh, and he does too, bumping his nose against yours. "You're so full of yourself."

"You like that?" He bumps again, eyes on yours. "I said it to get you to giggle."

"You know it's a little true."

His lips meet yours in a warm tender kiss. "Confidence is sexy."

"It is."

"I could tell your parents there's a work emergency." He slides his hands over your ass and pulls you flush against him. "A real pain in the ass employee is causin' trouble."

You smile into his lips and he smiles back. "Oh yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

He chuckles softly and cradles your head to his chest. "You can't choose how your family acts. Remember that. It's up to you to decide how you act, and if you want to deal with them."

"I know."

"Do you?" He runs a hand over your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands briefly.. "I know it's different for you, I can distance myself easier since I didn't grow up with proper parents. Maybe I'm cold, or indifferent but-"

"Stop." You dig your fingers into his side and he falls quiet. "Don't compare your childhood to mine. It's not fair. I don't want you to begin resenting me because-"

Billy gives you a look that is all warning and it silences you instantly. "I would never resent you for having parents and growing up like a normal kid should. I ended up in a shit situation and that is no one's fault but my own mother's. She is the only person I will ever resent." He softens, leaning in and kissing your nose. "Do you wanna ditch or go try to make something of this dinner?"

You swallow harshly and look at the door. Ditching would be easy, but the repercussions would be insufferable. Your mom would never stop calling about it, your dad would hold it over your head forever. It would be more of a disaster to leave than it would be to stay. No matter how valid the reason.

"We'll stay. I can try and redirect the conversation."

"That's my girl." He pats your cheek. "Proud of you."

"T-thanks."

Billy takes your hand and interlocks your fingers with his. "I'll take care of it. I can get them to shut up."

"If you can get a word in."

"I have my ways. Don't worry."

You cut him a look as you exit the bathroom and head for the table. "What are you-"

"Don't worry." He presses against your ear and guides you down to sit at the table.

Your parents are still bickering.

"Hey!" Billy says firmly with his hands on the table, not a yell, but enough to get his point across and the attention of your parents but not many others.

"Yes?" Mom asks surprisingly quietly.

Billy smiles and it's all venom, beautiful venom. You know this look, these eyes, that deadly grin. He isn't fucking around and the way he can express that so physically subtly astounds you. "The arguing is going to stop. The petty comments are going to stop. We're going to sit here and have conversations like adults, or you can leave and your daughter and I will have a nice dinner."

"Wh-" Dad starts but doesn't get any further.

"I am not goin' to repeat myself." Billy stands up straight and raises his eyebrows, daring your parents to say another word. The tension is thick, you can hardly breathe. Never did you think you'd have to witness Billy being like this with your parents of all people.

You grab a roll from the basket at the center of the table and pick at it. "How's work been, Dad?"

Dad clears his throat. "Good, busy. People always need an electrician for something. I did a school the other day, new classroom."

Billy sits beside you and lays his hand on your leg, thumb stroking your skin gently. He leans in and whispers "I told you don't worry." He turns his attention back to your parents. "So you're an electrician? Contractor?"

"Yeah, I work for Mundun Electric. Union job, pays well."

"And you?" Billy looks to your mom.

"I'm a medical receptionist. Clarke Center Hospital."

Billy smiles. "That's incredible. You're both hardworking people it seems, I see where she gets her work ethic. She's incredible, the best I've hired for Anvil."

You chew your lip and look down, flushed. "You're just being nice."

"I'm serious." He holds your hand up and kisses your knuckles. "I admire your dedication and the hard work you've put into making Anvil a success. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. Probably buried in paperwork."

"So you work for Billy? That's how you met?" Mom asks and you nod.

Dad raises his eyebrows.

"Dad, don't start."

Billy cuts a glare at your dad. "Don't start what?"

"Nothing." Dad says nonchalantly, eyes going to somewhere else in the room. "I just think inter-workplace relationships are never a good idea."

You squeeze Billy's hand and he just smiles oh so sweetly. "Dad, it's fine. Billy and I are both professionals. If things don't work out we'll make it work for the sake of the company."

"He'll fire you and you'll be looking for a job yet again." Mom pipes up, rolling her eyes. "See, things like this are why you can't hold a career."

"Mom!"

"Alright." Billy says firmly. "We're done here. Ma'am, sir, with all due respect you can both go fuck yourselves."

"Excuse me!?" Dad bellows and your mom looks flustered at the use of language. "You have no right-!"

"Actually I do." Billy stands and guides you to stand with him. "I'm going to love and care about your daughter the way she should be. You two are self absorbed monsters who should have never had a child, let alone forced the one you had to live through a loveless marriage. The fact that you cannot manage to sit here and have dinner with her and myself, which mind you has left quite a first impression, is sad and disappointing."

You grab his hand and you're shaking. You don't even know what to say. It's like Billy is telling them everything you've wanted to for your whole life.

"C'mon sweetheart." He puts his arm around you and guides you out of the restaurant. You know there are people staring but it's fine. It's over now.

"I'm s-"

"Uh uh." Billy puts his finger to your lips. "No apologies. Here." He shrugs his suit jacket off and puts it around your shoulders.

"Thanks."

"You wanna get out of here before your parents come out. Go get some burgers or something?"

You can't help the little smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Pete's Diner?"

"Anywhere you like." He takes your hand and walks you toward the parking area. "Fuck this fancy bullshit anyway. I never understood the food they serve."

"Me neither. A hamburger and fries with a big ole pickle is good enough for me."

Billy opens the passenger door for you. "You're a girl after my heart y'know that?"

"I think I already have it."

He leans in and kisses your forehead. "That's for damn sure."

_____________________

Midnight you wake up crying. A nightmare, a reoccurring one as it would be. Though it is more of a twisted memory than a nightmare in actuality.

You are always around seven or eight years old, it's nighttime, you've been in bed for an hour and still not asleep. Downstairs your parents are awake, their disembodied voices float through the old floors. Their voices grow louder, shouting, screaming at each other. A glass shatters and you crawl under the bed. Footsteps come closer in the hall, heavy and slow.

The dream shifts. You're not a child but an adult. Under the bed is smaller now, the footsteps grow louder. The door opens and you scream when your foot is grabbed and you wake up crying.

"What's wrong?" Billy asks, sitting up in bed abruptly and turning on the light, hand instinctively going for the nightstand where you know a weapon is stored.

You had stayed the night, both of you decided it was best to stay together while you decompress from your tragic meet the parents dinner. Didn't matter in the end though. The nightmare still came.

"Just a bad dream. I'm going to get some water." You push back the blankets and plant your feet on the cold floor. It's a nice shock to the system, reminding you this is reality.

Billy's arm snakes around your waist. "Care to share with the class?"

"It's nothing. Just a nonsense dream about old crap."

"Your parents?"

"Yeah. Um, just a dream." You yawn and pat his hand on top of your stomach. "I need water."

"Grab me a bottle?"

"Sure."

You end up in the kitchen, looking out at the New York skyline. His place is so beautiful. It's luxurious, and you can't get used to it. You lean on the island and sip a bottle of cold water from the fridge. You don't think you belong here.

Then the dream comes creeping back in. Rationally you know that dream is never going to become a reality. Not with Billy around.

"Hey."

You look back to see Billy walking in with his sleep pants low on his hips. He scrubs a hand over his face before meeting you at the island.

"Sorry, I just got caught up in the view."

"It s'okay." His arms wrap around you and he presses his face to your neck. "I love you." He whispers softly into your skin.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmm."

You thread a hand into his hair and scratch at his scalp. It elicits a hum that's nearly a purr against your back. "Do you ever feel like you don't deserve this? Like everyday you can't comprehend that you're loved."

"I didn't think I could fall in love before I met you, yeah. I'm familiar."

"Oh."

"Wasn't expecting that?" He chuckles, flexing his fingers against your tummy.

You shake your head and he kisses along your jaw. "Billy, stop," you giggle as his short beard tickles your skin.

"No way." He starts walking you back away from the island counter and toward the bedroom. "I've got a disease and if I don't kiss you all the time I'll definitely succumb to it."

The two of you tumble onto the bed and he straddles your hips, mouthing at your neck and chest relentlessly.

"It's three in the morning. We need to go back to sleep."

Billy hums and settles on top of you, nose in your hair. "Sleep is for the weak."

"Then I'm weak." You trail a hand up his back, fingers flitting over his shoulder blade. His skin is so soft, so warm. "Thank you by the way."

"For what?"

"Being here when I had a nightmare."

"Of course." Billy pets your hair, stroking it down against the pillow. "I've suffered my share of them alone. I'm glad you were here so you weren't."

"Me too."

"Go to sleep." He kisses your cheek and rolls off to the side. His arm curls around you and pulls you close. "Love you."

"Love you too."

_____________________

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

[btssunnyboy]

Deadly Protection - Choi San - PART 1

The hate he felt for his other clients, was nothing compared to how he felt about you. But maybe him liking you, isn’t the best possible outcome.

Word Count - 3,036

Warning - Progressive yandere, profanity, Chan is fucking mean, one misogynistic comment, and a sexual innuendo.

BTS , NCT , ATEEZ - Request Open

__________________________________________

Working with over pampered celebrities was his expertise. He knew all the in and outs of this industry, but he had too. As much as he hated the people he worked with, he was still getting paid to protect them with his life. In order to do so he needed to know every possible outcome of every possible situation. And that hatred for those other clients built a pit of anger and despair in his stomach as he walked closer to the door. The thought of meeting the shitty person behind almost made him change his mind and walk away. But that key word almost is something big that should be taken into consideration. With a deep breath, San swallowed his pride and proceeded to make his presence known to those in the room.

A few sets of eyes shifted towards his direction and the only thing he could do is bow his head. Within a second those in the room turned back to their original conversation and paid the man in the comer no mind as he stared off aimlessly through the window. It was oddly strange that no one was rushing up to him, or pointing him towards the one person he was sworn to protect. This whole ordeal was causing a pit to rise in his stomach, and his gut feelings were always right.

“She has to be on set in ten minutes! Where is she!” One of the women in the dressing room bellowed out loudly as she checked her watch for the third time. Her eyes acted as if they were gonna pop out of her skull at any given moment. And that made San’s blood run cold. Was this mystery lady about to be another pain in his ass, were you somehow even more of a spoiled, entitled bitch then he had thought? Should San give up this opportunity right here, right now.

Another lady in the room, that he assumed was an assistant, came up behind the previous woman and tried to soothe her. Small back rubs and encouraging words did not seem to do the trick, as he watched her hissy fit continue to unfold in front of him. The assistant took a shaky breath into her lungs before she spoke, “Listen, Y/n has never let you down before! I promise, it’s probably just traffic that’s keeping them.”

Ah, so his client is the famous Y/n, who is known for her more villainous roles on the silver screen. If you’re anything like you’re characters, he’s gonna take that as a big red flag. But before he could form more of an obnoxious opinion on you, the dressing room door was being pushed open. Rather harshly as it made San stumble about, before he could reach for the gun that was hidden within the confines of his jacket just as his fingertips grazed the holster, he was met with pleading eyes. That was just begging for some peace at that moment.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize you were standing there.” The voice was panicked as you rushed to his aid. Your eyes as wide as they’d go as you looked over his arm. Almost as if you were more worried about the built man in the corner then your own safety. As you had walked up to a complete stranger without inspecting more of your surroundings. “Are you okay, do you need anything?”

San’s curiosity spiked just by watching you interact with him, as you’ve known each other since you were kids. Your soft hands rested on his bicep as you tried to inspect for any injuries that you may have caused. And he found it quite cute when reliziation hit you, and you tried to make the distance between two of you greater. You were invading his personal space, and he appreciates you backing off. But before he could even answer your questions, the assistant from before harshly shoved her shoulder into his.

“Y/n, where the hell were you! Sasha has been panicking like crazy!” San felt his eye twitch at the high pitched voice of the assistant. They could have been nicer with this whole ordeal, it’s not that hard to ask a question. But instead this lady wanted to raise her voice and practically spit in your face, and then have the audacity to get mad when you took a few moments to answer. “You’ve got a voice, don’t you?”

“Amber I’m so sorry I was late, but traffic was terrible and random cars kept following me.” You explained as you tried to put down your purse. When you made eye contact with him, for some reason it felt nice and familiar. Even though you know for a fact you have never met this man in your life. “I promise this won’t happen again.”

“It better not, or you can kiss any letter or recommendations goodbye.” Sasha stormed out of the dressing room and dragged Amber along with her. A saddened look on her face as they simply brushed right passed you. “You have less than ten minutes to get ready for the scene.”

You harshly rubbed your hands down your face as you took in a deep breath. All these doubtful thoughts of the movie started racing in, and you wondered if this was all worth. Getting treated like trash just because you were late one time, and then threatening to trash your name up and down the boulevard. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know why Amber decided to take her anger out on you.”

“You say sorry too much, besides that hit felt like nothing.” San slightly smiled as he tried to keep the conversation small. Those two were already pissed and he doesn’t want you getting into any more trouble. He cleared his throat loudly as he started towards the door. “I will just step outside and let you get ready. Just knock on the door three times and we’ll head down to the set.”

Before he could step out the door, you held out your hand. A small gesture, that he was not used to at all. He was used to getting yelled at to guard the doors and make sure no pervert is snooping through the windows. His wrinkled eyebrows gave away his confusion as he eyed your hand just a little bit longer than necessary. The small rings that glittered in the light complimented your hand nicely, everything seemed to compliment you nicely. “Just so we’re starting off on the right foot, I’m Y/n, and I’m going to guess that you’re Choi San my new bodyguard.”

It was oddly strange how the first interaction with you had San’s heart beating a little faster than normal. He was so used to being with distasteful people, that didn’t care about anyone but themselves. But truth be told everything felt different when it came to you. You apologize profusely even when things weren’t your fault, you never raise your voice and you’re always so kind. Even to some of the dumb people that over step their boundaries, but that’s his job to pay attention to those types of people. It’s his job to protect you and yet it seems like you’d lay it all on the line to protect him.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but he does feel a connection. A connection that runs deeper than a simple coworker type of relationship, but at the same time he knows this has to stay strictly in the business type of situation. But at this moment it’s not like he could act on these so-called feelings, as your manager had other plans for your own love life. Which was stupid in his opinion, as you were your own perosn and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

“Don’t they just look fantastic together!” Sasha gushed beside him as she looked at her new couple. You were standing there semi awkwardly as the dude proceeded to put his arm around your waist. But it started to drift lower and lower and San could feel his blood boil within. Before he could even step one foot forward, you calmly removed his arm altogether. Within a second Sasha had to put her two cents in once more. “Y/n, stop! That pose is perfect, it shows how close you two are!”

“No offense, Sasha, but Chan and I barely know each other.” You forced a tight lipped as Chan’s hand tried to rub soothing circles on your hip. This relationship is just PR for the new movie you two are, but it felt so grimy. Lying to your fans just so they’ll buy a ticket and waste their own money on you. Just because they see the two main characters getting close with one another.

“I mean you could always take me up on my offer, and go on a date with me.” Chan smiled flirtatiously at you as he twisted your body to face him. His eyes staring longingly into your while his hands began to move to your lower back. Then he leaned over to whisper in your ear so that no one could hear. “Besides, if you have a good time at dinner, maybe we can have some more fun back at my hotel room.”

You kept your mouth shut because you knew that if you opened your mouth vomit would cover him from head to toe. But it seems like that decision was already made for you, as Sasha’s eyebrows quirked up at the idea. The idea of her two leading costars getting flirty at a candle lit dinner. It would drive the press crazy which in result would drive up so much more buzz about the movie. “That’s perfect, Amber will have everything set up by tonight!”

Dread filled your entire body at the thought of having to spend a night with him. You know it’s for press, and you know it’s for the fans, but still it’s the thought is stomach turning. But beside you, Chan, was having the opposite reaction. One of his eyebrows were cocked in and he wore a sly smirk. You could tell that his stomach was filled with something else than bile, like yours was. His fingertips brushed against your chin, as he pulled your face a little closer. His lips barely brushed against yours, as he softly spoke. “I’ll see you tonight sweetheart.”

You watched him walk away as you tried to keep your composure, but it was hard. Dealing with a guy like him was terrible. They never took social cues, or read the room in any way. The only thing that filled their blown up head of getting laid. Quickly slipping away you tried to make it back to the dressing room without anyone noticing, but you knew that you’d always have a shadow.

“Why can’t they have his girlfriend in the show go on a date with him! I’m his rival, what good is gonna come from this.” You huffed lightly as you turned to face the man that followed you. “I’m sorry you probably don’t wanna hear all my complaining.”

“Talking helps, and it’s obvious you need someone to listen.” San shrugged his shoulders as he took a seat on the plush couch, but he tried to keep a respectable distance between the two of you. “And I’m your bodyguard. I'm here to help with any problems you might have, so lay it on me.”

For once someone actually cared to listen to what you have to say. It felt like a wave of relief washed over you, because you felt safe having this conversation with him. You hoped that after this you two would have more conversations, because seriousness isn’t needed every second of the day. You just hoped he felt that way too.

“Let’s hope this doesn’t take long.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m all ears no matter how long it takes.”

_______________________________________

You lightly patted down the bottom of your dress as you started walking towards the elevator. Chan had asked you to meet him down in the lobby, because he said he has a small surprise. Even though you know you needed to focus on the man you’re about to go on a date with you couldn’t. As cliche as it sounds you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to San. The poor guy who has his ear talked off for over an hour, just by you complaining about Chan. But he still listened, his eyes were alert with every single word that passed through your lips. You sighed heavily as the elevator dinged showing that you were now on the right floor.

“You look stunning.” Chan said, surprisingly nice. Without the hint of any sexual undertones to it. You smiled slightly as you gripped his outstretched hand. He may be acting nice now, but you know you never should let that guard down tonight. Here’s to two hours of your life that you’re never gonna get back.

“You’re not gonna be quiet the whole dinner are you?” Chan jokes as he tries to nonchalantly sip his drink. His eyes stared back into yours with curiosity swimming in them, but he waited patiently for your answer. “Hmm?”

“I’m just looking through the menu right now,” You tried to keep yourself busy as long as possible. Because no offense to him, but you could feel your brain cells deteriorating the more you spoke to him. All you wanted to do was go back to your room and go to sleep. For once sleep seems a lot more interesting than keeping a conversation going with this man. You bit back the urge to laugh as you heard him huff.

“For fifteen minutes? Damn, I didn’t realize picking a meal could be that hard.” His words made your head pulse with a headache every time he decided to speak. But the stupid look on his face made it clear that he thought his words were just conversational pieces. And it took all the willpower in your body to not chuck the wine in your glass at him. But he didn’t seem to care as he started to scroll aimlessly through his stupid phone.

The moment the waiter came over you quickly rushed your order out of your mouth. The sooner you say it the sooner it might come, and the sooner you can leave this ass in the restaurant. Throughout dinner you could feel eyes staring holes into the back of your head. But every time you tried to catch a glimpse of them, they’d always disappear. Your soul nearly left your body as a rough hand was placed upon your shoulder.

“You need to leave, right now.” San has a calm demeanor, but you could tell something was wrong by the sternness in his voice. Chan eyed him worriedly, as he watched him out his arm around your waist. Before you two even stepped one foot out of the restaurant he placed his jacket over your head. You assumed it was to protect you from the rain. “Keep your head down, and walk as fast as you can. I’ll explain everything when we’re in your hotel room.”

You listened without a second thought as you raced back to your room. Ignoring the pain in your ankles from your high heels digging into them harshly. The only thing on your mind was the way San’s hands rested protectively rested on your waist. Before you stepped into the hotel you noticed all the vans that were starting to surround the restaurant and many different people emerged from them. Paparazzi, along with fans seemed to camp out in front of the restaurant. Now you were glad to be in the safe walls of San’s hotel room.

“Chan sent a tweet exposing your location and people started to figure out the hotel you were staying at as well. So I knew I needed to get you out of there as soon as possible.” Of course that dumb ass tweeted out where you two were. But then again it doesn’t surprise you, he’s always been one who loves any type of attention that he could receive. “Maybe it’s best you stay in my room tonight, just in case any fans put two and two together.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother, and besides you have to deal with me enough.” You tried to waive off his offer, even though you knew this was a good idea. You were safer with him no matter. And the thought of someone getting into your hotel room scared the hell out of you.

“Once again, it’s my job to protect you no matter what. And besides Chan is still at the restaurant they’re gonna follow him, and I’d rather not have the thought of you alone on my mind. So please just stay.” San pleaded as he tried to fix the spare bed. Making sure it was comfortable enough for you to sleep in. He smiled slightly as you gave a quick nod, before announcing that you were going to return to your room for a change of clothes. He knew at that moment you were too nice for your own good, and he’s going to have to step up his game in order to keep you safe.

San didn’t understand what came over him that night. Watching you shake slightly under your cover was tearing him to pieces and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t understand why he’s even having these feelings all together, considering you were supposed to be a job, not anything else. But he picked Chan’s lock without a second thought and proceeded to show him why exposing your location was a bad idea. Chan’s room was unrecognizable, by the time San was down with it.

Glass shattered in every direction, piles of it littered the floor. Multiple pieces of his clothes were ripped and torn straight from the seams. His bed was turned upside down, with the sheets thrown across the room. Hopefully this gets San’s message across, but he’d be more than happy to take this straight to Chan’s face.

[atinydise]

Ateez trying to get their s/o back after leaving them for their exes

❦ Genre: Angst.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3k9.

❦ A/N: I don’t know how you managed to do that but y’all made the pole 50/50 💀so here’s the first one that I made angsty and the 2nd one should be posted soon! - Thank you for all the little messages you added to the pole! It was really nice and I appreciated this a lot! Sadly I forgot to tell you to add your @ or whatever 💀so I can come & dm you but THANK YOU SO MUCH 🤍🦋

HONGJOONG

Not even 2 weeks later, your ex-boyfriend contacted you. You picked up only because he was supposed to take back the rest of his stuff in your apartment. [“When do you want to come?”] You asked coldly. [“A-Actually…. I would like to talk with you.”] He stuttered. You sighed. It was already hard for you to engage a conversation with him, knowing that he’s taken, and he wanted to talk like nothing happened. [“About what?”] [“Let me come to your apartment. I’ll be there in 10 minutes, okay?”] [“Then hurry up, I have some plans tonight.”] It was a lie. You didn’t want him to think you stayed all the time in your living-room, crying about your chaotic life. [“Sure. See you in 10 minutes then.”] You hung up right away, but it seemed important. Maybe he wanted to…? You shook your head to avoid these false hopes and went straight to your bedroom. The last days, you packed all of his stuff. Unconsciously, you started to remember all the memories you had with each item. Everything shirts, every CDs even his toothbrush.

You probably were too deep in your thoughts because the ring bell made your heart miss a beat. Picking up the box before leaving the room, you rushed to the hallway and opened the door. You prepared yourself during the 2 last weeks for your first conversation with Hongjoong, as your ex-boyfriend. But nothing prepared you to see him looking so happy with a dozen of roses in his hands. “What is that?” You immediately asked. “These are for you.” He handed the flowers to you. “I would like to apologize for thinking that I would be happier without you.” He added, ashamed. “I want you in my life Y/N.” One part of you were not surprised at all. You knew the day he had broken up with you that this decision was taken too fast. Looking once again at the red flowers, you rolled your eyes and grabbed them. Hongjoong started to smile more widely until you threw it harshly on the floor. “Do you think that I will jump back in your arms as nothing happened?” Your lips started to shake a bit; the emotion was surrounding you. “You threw me away as an old sock and ran to her. You ignored me for 2 weeks and came back just by telling me to let you go and to be more considering!” Your face was filled with anger and confusion. It was the first time Hongjoong saw this expression. He hated it. “Y/N…” “I don’t care if I’m still in love with you. I don’t care if I’m dying without you. Because anyway, I can’t see you the same way…” You sobbed. “You broke me in a million of pieces and came back today, trying to fix the mess that I am. And BECAUSE of you!” “Y/N please-” He tried to step inside. “Take your stuff and go away.” You grabbed the box and threw it on his arms. “Y/N-” “I said GO AWAY!” You yelled. He made you reach your limit. You yelled at him crazily, you were crying hot tears uncontrollably and pushing him away from your life. Not wanting to make you madder. He nodded and turned around. Right away, you shut your door. You were completely destroyed. He made you feel so bad that you hated yourself for still loving him.

SEONGHWA

The next months, Seonghwa was tormented. His ex asked him a second chance and he accepted. The media were sharing all the new couple informations. All his fans, his members and the staff were happy for him, but he wasn’t. Something didn’t feel right, and he knows exactly what. You. Even though these days with his ex-girlfriend were cool. It wasn’t you. Seonghwa wasn’t having fun like he does usually. When the regret started eating him inside, he decided to call you. Of course, you never picked up. And he couldn’t blame you for that. “Why you just don’t go to her house? You know she will be there.” Sighed Yeosang. “I don’t know…” he replied. “I think I’m scared.” “Just go. You might lose her for good, if you don’t do anything.” Seonghwa hesitated few seconds and finally left the dorm. He ran to your apartment. At each step, the frustration was worse. When he saw you far away the shape of your building. He almost ran back to the dorm. But the little Yeosang’s voice was stuck in his head. Seonghwa continued his way to your apartment. Right before climbing the entrance stairs, you came out, visibly in rush. Because of the expression on your face, you were surprised to see him here. “Y/N.” He smiled at you. “Seonghwa.” You replied instinctively. “I’m so glad you there I was looking for you.” “What do you want? You should be with-” “With you. You are the only one I should be with.” You scoffed, not believing a word he said. “How can you come here after all this time?” You asked, arms crossed our chest. “Are you already bored of her?” “Not at all. It was always you; I was just too dumb to notice.” “I’m not a toy that you can throw when you are bored.” “You are absolutely not a toy. Or a test or a break, whatever you say. This is my fault. I made a big mistake.” He explained, holding your hand. “Your mistake caused me to stay at home for weeks. To lost some of my friends, my self-confidence and esteem.” You removed his hand of yours. “While you were acting lovely dovely with her on every social media, I was all alone.” “Y/N, I will fix-” “Y/N?” You both looked at the person coming at your right. “Ah you there.” You smiled widely. “I can’t make you wait.” He winked. Seonghwa and apparently your new man looked at each other few seconds. “Is everything okay? Do you know him?” You stared at Seonghwa, “I’m okay… And it’s nobody.” You claimed. “Y/N.” He tried to stop you, but you carefully avoided his grip. You walked past to him and joined your “friend”. “Let’s go.” He opened the car door for you. Powerless, Seonghwa looked you leaving with someone else. That’s exactly, what he was scared to see. You with someone else who knows your real value.

YUNHO

“Yunho can you focus please. It’s the last shot and you keep making the same mistake.” Sighed the music video director. The tall boy apologized again and tried to focus back. Hongjoong grabbed his wrist. “It can’t continue this way. You need to look for Y/N after our schedule today. She’s clearly stuck in your mind all the time.” “But how?” “Just go.” He replied before positioning back. This is why Yunho was in front of your gate the same night. After your argument at the supermarket, you both decided to break up. Even if he thought that confessing to his ex would lift the weight on his shoulders, it stayed the same. He hated himself for that. When he was with you, he was non-stop mentioning Hyena. Now, it was the opposite. But even if his mind was completely fuzzy, his heart belongs to you and nobody else.

Knock knock.

“Coming!” The sound of your voice made his heart melt even more. “He-” He bowed politely to you. “Hello Y/N. It’s been a long time.” You stayed completely quiet. “I know you weren’t expecting to see me here, but can we talk a bit?” You bit your tongue interiorly, struggling to know if it was good idea or not. “It won’t be long. Promise.” You took a deep breath and finally stepped on the side to let him enter. “Thank you.” In a matter of time, you were both sitting on your couch. And it was totally awkward. “I know I acted like a complete jerk with you and I’m sorry for that. I thought that my feelings for Hyena were stronger, but it wasn’t.” He glanced at you, trying to see any reactions but you kept arbored this poker face. “I want you. I need you. I miss you. I love you. Not Hyena.” He confessed. “Please give me another c-” “I do want you.” You cut him. “I do need and miss you.” You added. Yunho was smiling widely at you, relieved that you forgave his silliness. “But I can’t love you anymore.” Immediately his face saddened. “Why? I’m sure I can make it work.” “Every time you pronounce her name, my love for you is fading away. Little by little.” You explained, moving your knees against your chest. “You pronounced it 2 times already, since you entered. Just with a name I feel awful.” You looked right at his eyes. “I don’t want to feel this mix of jealousy and pain anymore Yunho.” “Y/N.” “If this is all you wanted to say then you should leave.” Yunho didn’t want to make any scene, so he just nodded and accepted his fate. He put back his jean jacket and stood up. Before walking away, he looked at you. Without asking your permission, he kissed your forehead softly for few longs’ seconds. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. You bit your lip the whole time he left. When you heard the lock, you busted in tears on your couch. Why everything was so complicated?

YEOSANG

The way you left the backstage room the other day was haunting Yeosang. Going back to Kira was really a good choice? If yes, why does his heart hurts so bad? Before going to sleep he had few flashbacks of you. It was stuck in his mind for the rest of the night. It happened 2 times in a week and even more the following days. These insomnias caused him to be exhausted. The ethic schedule, his feelings and these sleepless nights caused Yeosang to drink more than usual. Tonight, he was the only client left at the restaurant. His table was filled with a bunch of Soju’s bottles. All empty. “Sir.” Called the waitress. “We took your phone to call someone who can get you back home.” “Nobody is going to pick me!” He yelled completely drunk. “The only one who did is gone! Like POOF!” He claimed. “She disappeared of my life.” “Don’t bother this poor girl with your dumbness.” You sat in front of him, visibly annoyed. “Y/N?” He smiled widely, his eyes completely teary. “You came back to me?” You glanced at the waitress and asked her 5 more minutes. To talk with him in private. Nicely even though you saw that she just wanted to go back home, she accepted. “You shouldn’t drink this much. You can’t hold alcohol well.” “This is the only thing that helps me to sleep and forget.” He tugged. “Forget what?” “Forget that I ruined the amazing relationship we had.” He sighed, looking for a bottle. You stopped him before he could drink again. “You shouldn’t talk this way to me when you are with someone else.” “I don’t care because she’s not you.” He replied, growling. You stared at him; he was feeling really bad about this situation. You were about to reassure him, saying that everything would be okay, when his phone lightened up and his wallpaper appeared. The pain was back once again. You remember why everything stopped. Because of her. Kira. "You shouldn’t keep my phone number as your main contact anyway." “But I want to! Just let me love you!” He shouted, pushing the table a bit. “But I don’t want you to call me!” You raised your voice as well. Even if he was completely drunk, he understood that you were rejecting him. “I called San and Mingi. They should be there in few minutes. Please stay here till they arrive.” You ordered, standing up. “Wait.” He almost fell in front of you. You raised a brow at him. “So, it’s over? For real?” Because I made a mistake?” Yeosang gulped, anticipating your reply. You wanted to tell him that he would possibly get another chance, but a notification lightened his phone again. Kira’s smile was the first thing you saw. You nodded and pinched your lips together. “Yes. It’s over.” Yeosang clenched his fist and stared at the ceiling pissed. “Delete my phone number please.” You asked one more time before turning around and leaving the restaurant. On the way back to your home, you walked past to San and Mingi. “Oh, it’s Y/N? No?” Asked San. “Was she crying?” Added Mingi. Yes, you were. How could you not cry when you felt like your life was falling apart?

SAN

You opened your letterbox. As the previous days, a rose was on top of your bills and other prospects. You knew that San was the one leaving a flower daily. You ignored what he was trying to do. He was supposed to live the “perfect love story” with his “new ex girl”. You weren’t supposed to be a part of this relationship. So as always, you threw it on the trash can next to the door. No way, you would accept it.

This little game lasted 3 weeks. He even added more roses for your birthday. San was making your confused. Your heart was torn between the pain and the incomprehension. One day, you finally decided to trap him.

You never saw him, but you knew he was probably waiting for you to leave and put the flower on your letterbox. So, you faked to leave the building as always and hid between the gate and a bush. As expected, you spotted San rushing to the hall. He entered the door code. Just before the door could close, you got out of your hiding place and followed him “Choi San!” He almost slipped when he heard your voice. He wasn’t expecting you to be there. “You scared me! I almost had a-” “What are you doing?” You cut him, walking straight in front of him. “J-just putting the rose as... always?” He scratched his head shyly. “Stop doing this. We are not together anymore, right?” “I regret it okay? Leaving you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” “I don’t care.” You replied. “You should have thought about it earlier.” “Don’t be so mean... I know what I did was wrong, but I can’t-” “Which part you don’t understand in ‘I don’t care’?” You almost yelled, snatching the rose off his hand. “Y/N, calm down.” He tried to make you lower your voice. “Don’t come and put these flowers here anymore!” You threw it back on him. “Y/N...” “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t talk to me! Do exactly as you did these last weeks! Forget me.” You ordered angrily. “I can’t do like you never existed.” He raised his voice. “You’ve done it extremely well.” Your voice cracked. “You completely erased me of your life. You made as I never existed, so continue! It helped me to stop loving you!” You shouted before leaving your building for good this time. San wanted to convince you that you were the one and only, but it was clearly too late.

MINGI

[“Hello Y/N.”] Once again Mingi was using Yunho’s phone to text you. He started to do that when he understood that you blocked his phone number. [“Mingi... I know that’s you.”] [“So… can you accept a call?”] [“I have nothing to say to you. Please stop texting me or using Yunho’s phone.”] [“Y/N just one call. That’s all I ask. Only one. Maximum 10 minutes.”] You hesitated. You weren’t forgiving him for sure, but you knew exactly the effect his voice has on you. [“6 minutes.”] You replied. In maximum 10 seconds, your phone buzzed in your hand. You took a deep breathe before picking up. [“So? What do you want?”] [“You.”] A big silence settled between both of you. [“I won’t come back.”] [“Think about how happy we were, together.”] [“Ah yeah, when you say ‘before’, you mean before you tried to dump or even to cheat on me with your ex-girlfriend? Who also, cheated on you?”] [“Yeah... I guess. But I never cheated on you!”] He was visibly ashamed, but also totally deserved this cold treatment. [“Any way, if you think I’m ready to forgive you... you are totally wrong.”] [“Y/N. I fucked up I know that... but please try to understand me.”] [“In no existing universe I will understand you Song Mingi. You know what?”] You paused, trying to let the anger down before you say something you would regret. [“Tell me. I need to know how you feel to apologize correctly.”] He replied, understanding that you were looking for the right words. [“How I feel? Well, I feel terrible because of you. I have never felt this way in my entire life. Why? Because you...] your voice cracked. You immediately wiped your eyes before a tear could escape. [“Because you ruined every pieces and aspects of me. I can’t look at myself in a mirror without feeling disgusted.”] Your lips were shaking uncontrollably, the words were stuck in your throat. Mingi was aware for sure that you would cry. [“I HATE loving you after all the pain I need to endure right now. I can’t even stop loving you. How weak I am for falling for your voice again? This is disgusting. This is sickening.”] [“I-”] [“I tried everything. I even imagined you cuddling her like you did with me. Just to hate you and maybe forget your existence but this is just...”] You paused once again, but to take back your breath and hold your phone correctly because of your shaky hands. [“This is just killing me inside.”] You clenched at your shirt. [“I d- I don’t know what to say. What I can do to apologize?”] He sadly asked. [“The 6 minutes are over.”] You claimed before hanging up.

WOOYOUNG

It’s been exactly 2 months after your discussion on the balcony. This was the last time, Wooyoung saw you. After few days, he finally asked his ex-girlfriend to date him again, but nothing. Not the sparkles he thought he would feel and not even the happiness. Nothing. He felt like an empty shell. His new girlfriend was nice and funny, but everything seemed so fake. Even on her side, she could feel that Wooyoung’s heart was somewhere else. One day, she confronted him. At the end of the conversation, they both decided that the best for them was to break up. He realized that the “feelings” for her, that he detailed to you the last time, were completely wrong. “You should go back to her. I’m sure she’s waiting for you.” She cheered him. Without thinking twice, he left her dorm right away and jumped in the first taxi. On the way to your house, he tried to call you but seems like your phone was completely off. He ignored how he would explain this situation to you. You were probably upset and mad at him. The thought of you hating him went straight to his mind. But the taxi stopped right in front of your flat. After the payment, Wooyoung opened the little gate of your garden. The apartment seemed unbelievably quiet; the lights were on but no sounds. He knocked once, repeating the same apology to practice. “Oh Wooyoung?” Claimed your roommate, surprised to see him here. “Hi. Can I talk to Y/N? Quickly? I know it’s late, but I’ll make it short.” “I would love to let you talk to her, but she left 2 weeks ago.” She said, biting his lip of nervously. “Left? Where?” He asked, not believing you could do something like this. “She went to Berlin.” “Berlin? But why Berlin?” “She had a job opportunity there... and because you broke up, nothing was holding her here anymore.” Wooyoung tugged in the side, completely lost. “I can’t believe it. How could she leave this way...?” “I’m sorry Wooyoung.” She patted his back, trying to comfort him a bit. “I miss her too.” The boy sat against the wall. He couldn’t stand up anymore. The thought of you being so far away, made him dizzy. “It was supposed to be a happy ending.” He bit his lip, trying to suppress the tears in his eyes. Your ex-roommate stayed quiet next to him. Not exactly knowing how to help him. “I really messed up everything.” He buried his face in his arms, not knowing what to do now. He lost you for food this time. He wouldn’t forgive himself for that.

JONGHO

The maknae ignored if waiting for you at the same place you spotted him and Sienna. was a good idea, but it was the only option he found. You brought all of his personal stuff to the dorm, you blocked his phone number and his social media account. Even when he was using his teammates’ number, you managed to reject him. How he could contact you? So, he came every day after his schedule and hoped to see you there. The first week, no sign of you, only the usual crowd. But just when he was starting to doubt about his strategy, you appeared. Just by seeing your face, his heart melted away. “Y/N!” He stood up off his chair and waved to you. He saw the expression on your face, it went to surprise to disgust in 2 seconds. You walked up to his direction even if your mind told you to stay away. “Jongho.” “Finally, you are here.” He smiled. “I came every day to have a chance to look for you.” “This is not the dedication you should have for you ex-girlfriend.” You stated annoyed. “Sienna and I broke up.” He said, thinking that you would be happy about that. Instead, you raised a brow. The look you gave him once again wasn’t the one he expected. “So… because you broke up, you think you can go back to me as nothing happened?” “I-I thought yes. But seems like it was a bad idea.” “Yes, it is. How can you think I would say ‘Oh yes let’s go back together and act like the perfect little couple again?” “I wanted to prove you that I made a mistake. And so that I want to fix it.” You started to laugh loudly, gripping your belly to reduce the abdominal cramps. All the people around, started to look at you weirdly. Exactly like the last time. “This is not happening Jongho.” Wiping your eyes. You replied coldly. “On no other earths, no other planet or not even the entire space, I would accept to date you again.” “I completely regret it Y/N.” He almost begged you. “Yes, and you should.” You stood up. “This is not because Sienna “the perfect girl”, broke up with you that you should run to me.” “Listen.” “No. You listen to me. I’m not a toy. I’m a human with feelings and so on.” You pointed at your chest. “You hurt me so much that I managed to erase you of my life. “You don’t need to do it because I will fix it. I promise.” “Don’t come to look for me anymore.” You grabbed your bag, leaving before he could add something. Even though you said that you erased him of your life, you didn’t and honestly, you don’t think you would someday. You will just need to live with the pain.

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 17

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 17: Can You Feel The Love Tonight~

“Pass some of that Okra.”

“Here you go.”

“Why is this so spicy?!”

“Well it is the spicy plate, if you can’t handle the heat then you should have gotten the other plate.”

“No, just this one specifically is damn spicy!”

“Red made some of them.”

“It’s not my fault that your taste isn’t refined enough.”

“Come over here and say that!”

“No fighting at the table,” Macaque said as he watched Bohai try to stand up from his seat, while Red was smirking at him.

“Won’t be much of a fight,” the demon prince mocked.

“You little-” his mouth was then stuffed with green beans.

“Just eat some veggies and calm yourself,” Sheng cracked a grin as they put some green beans in their mouth.

The jellyfish demon moodily just chewed on his food in silence.

“Children, all of them,” Mei said as she set down the bowl of Okra Ahmed passed her.

“So have you heard about the rumors about Yakimoto,” Yanyu leaned into MK.

“Yakimoto? The head of the Neurology department?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about her?”

“Well recently I have heard from a friend of mine, who heard from the janitor, who had heard from a physician of that department, that he had heard that she had been having little outings with her lovely secretary of hers,” she whispered loudly.

“Wait, doesn't she have a husband?” His eyes widened.

“Yes she does, but she’s always complaining about the whole ordeal being set up as an arranged marriage by both of their parents-”

“That’s still a thing?”

“Apparently, the two see each other as siblings.”

“Really?!”

“Totally, in fact, there have been whispers that her husband also has a special man as well.”

“Shut up, tell me more,” he stuffed the Tofu in his mouth as Yanyu began to talk all about the man at the flower shop a couple of blocks down from Pigsy noodles.

“Is it always this loud,” Wukong smiled as he watched the table filled with little chaos.

“Like you wouldn’t believe it,” he said as he ate. “Just be glad this isn’t a holiday dinner then it really would be chaotic. Especially with everyone else that would join in,” he remembered last new year when they finally dragged Pigsy to close down the shop for one night to enjoy the holiday. It was a mad scene of chaos and energy as all of them were raving like mad lunatics even before the food came out, Ahmed and Sandy were barely able to stop Sheng, Daiyu, Tang, and Mei from setting off fireworks right next to some containers of peanut oil. And that was after MK and Mei had already demolished the kitchen with Yanyu siblings looking for the moon cakes.

“Everyone else?” He questioned as he noticed the slight smile on his friend's face.

“Oh don’t worry, stick around long enough and you’ll meet them face to face rather than watching them creepily from the distance” he shook himself out of memories.

The Monkey Sage paused, then he smiled widely, “I can’t wait then.”

“Okay, now can we learn how the hell you met Shun!” Mei exclaimed as everyone settled down in the living room. “Cause, I’m surprised you didn’t smell the crazy off of him at first sight.”

“It’s always the quiet ones that get you,” Daiyu muttered. “He seemed alright, but he was just hiding his batshit craziness.

“Right, I mean that just goes to show doc always had terrible taste in partners,” Yanyu nodded.

“Partners” Monkey King emphasized, “as in more than one.”

“Oh yeah, he has quite the number of people after his plump ass,” Minsheng smirked as they tried to smack Mac on the ass when he passed by him, but he winced when a black tail wrapped around his hand and flipped him over.

“No,” the simian deadpanned and was about to sit down next to Ahmed when Wukong pulled him over and sat him down beside him.

“Seems like you're quite popular then,” he joked and wrapped his arm around him.

“Not really popularity wise, but more of him simply having bad taste,” Sheng teased.

“I mean you're not wrong,” he shrugged as he sank into Wukong’s side.

“But how?!” Mei whined once more.

“Tell us!” MK soon joined her as he laid on Red lap.

“I’m quite interested to hear this as well,” the prince asked as well.

“Pleasseee,” Wukong batted his eyes

“Fine, fine, I’ll bite,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s not that interesting how we met, in fact, it was pretty normal.”

“What was it?”

“Amid a territory brawl over a section of land out in the Azurite Forest.”

“…okay I think we have two very different definitions

of normal,” Mei deadpanned.

“Probably, anyways I was sitting high in the tree watching these assholes argue-”

“I told you that past the Vivion Treeline was our territory and yet you dare go past that line and defy us!”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you send your minions down and scavenge in our territory first!”

“You have no proof of any trespassing that happened!”

“Are you saying my own lies to my face?! HA! Now that’s a laugh to even think about, no I trust them long before I will even think about breathing in your direction!”

“I suppose it’s best you lay down and suffocate cause there is no way in hell that my boys lied to me!”

“Now ain’t that a lie!”

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Sheesh, of course I would happen to stumble upon this right when I have to get some Fuchsia berries,” Macaque grumbled as he watched the argument from above. “Damn idiots.”

“I happen to agree,” Mac barely flinched when a calm voice called out and saw from the tree to the right of him was a gray lemur with a black and white striped tail. “I too have some important items that I need to procure, but these heathens happen to be in my way.”

“Only found in this forest,” the simian said.

“Unfortunately yes the Inada spiritual root is only grown here, if it was elsewhere I would have already turned back and away from this nonsense,” he scrunched his nose in distaste.

“I feel ya on that, the berries that I need happen to be for an elixir for the spiritual development of the 8th degree. One of my clients needs it after her body is close to breaking down due to her organs inability to support her fire breath,” he sighed as he looked down at the argument once more and noted that it would soon turn into an all out brawl.

“You're talking about the Firaga Restoration Elixir,” the lemur had a glint in his eyes. “Not many physicians know of that and even less have the ability to make it.”

“Made it a few times before…how about we help each other out?” He tapped his chin as an idea came to him.

“Go on.”

“Our items are pretty much in the same area, if we can sneak around and past the tree line then it would be homestretch from then on cause I am quickly picking up that most of the demons from each tribe are here.”

“Hmm, sounds adequate though do you believe to be capable enough to pass them undetected,” he turned to look at the monkey only to blink when he saw he wasn’t there anymore.

“Now where did he-”

“Is this good enough for you,” the lemur’s tail quickly shot towards the voice, but it was stopped by a hand. “Sorry, did I scare ya,” Macaque grinned as he held onto the furry tail.

The lemur blinked a few times before a smile grew, “It would appear that you have.”

“Well let’s get moving and the name is Macaque,” he let go of the tail, but the tail didn’t let go as it instead kept almost a loose grip around Mac's hand.

“I’m Shun,” the lemur purred as he stepped forward until their bodies were pressed together and he leaned down until they were nose to nose. “It will be a pleasure working with you.” And like he wasn’t even there, he quickly stepped back and began to move above the treetops of where the fight had commenced.

Macaque stood still for a brief moment before a fierce blush took over his face and he silently followed Shun. If both tree climbers happened to take glances at one another throughout the trip, no one would affirm anything.

“Like I said, horrible taste in partners,” Yanyu stated once more.

“Yeah, like you let him all up in your space and didn’t say a word, clearly bad,” Mei nodded.

“Like seriously, who would just go up and invade someone's personal bubble like that, totally rude,” MK joined in.

“You should have kicked his ass when he did that Mango, you have done it before,” Wukong said as he nonchalantly dragged him to his lap and rested his chin on Mac’s shoulder. “Don’t let anyone near you unless you want to.”

Everyone, barring Macaque and Wukong were either subtly or straight out eyeing Wukong, who was still cuddled up next to the black simian. They can practically taste the hypocrisy going on here.

“Okay I get it,” he put his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t need to gang up on me like that.”

“So what happened after that?” MK asked.

“Well the rest is history, he began to hang around my place a lot more and next thing I knew we were going on dates with each other,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Daiyu perked up, “did he ever ask you out?”

“Of cou-…” he stopped mid sentence as he thought it over then he furrowed his brow, “actually, now that I think about it, no. He never did. We were just eating out one day at a restaurant and proclaimed it to be a date.”

“Pops/Doc/Mango/Dude really,” Mei, Yanyu, Wukong, and Minsheng all groaned as the rabbit demon continued, “you really should have known something was up after that.”

“I really didn���t,” he rubbed the back of his head as he remembered he was taken aback by his statement but went with it as he did have a small crush on him back then.

“Just be glad you weren’t around to see Hui,” Ahmed said, receiving a wounded look from Macaque.

“Kitty, I thought you were on my side!”

“I am…just not when it comes to your choice of partners.”

“Even Mufasa here knows that she was batshit insane,” Bohai deadpanned, “nice and hilarious, but holy shit was she insane.”

“She wasn’t that-”

“Did you forget that she was a raging alcoholic scorpion that had the desire to go up to not only to the Celestial Realm and raid their alcohol supply, but to go down under all the way to Yama realm and claim the title of all the ten kings and live in luxury,” Minsheng bluntly stated.

“Just not Yama crown, because she stated that she didn’t want to do all of that work, not because it was suicidal to try to fight him,” Daiyu continued. She loves to fight as much as her siblings, but even she knew better than to pick a fight with one of the big boys on top, or in this case, down below.

“And I’m not even gonna mention that when she was in her drunken rage, she had the tendency to poison others with her tails when they stood opposed or even just breathed near her,” Bohai finished.

“…” Macaque said nothing as he just leaned closer to the other monkey, who happily complied with his actions as he further tightened his arm around him and silently rubbed his thumb on his shoulder.

“So much bad taste in partners, so much,” the bluenette put her head in her hands.

“I’m starting to see your point,” the pigtailed adult agreed as she glanced at the scene with a curious look.

“At least we don’t have to worry about that anymore, what I’m a bit curious about is how all of you guys met MK here,” Wukong tried to subtly move on from the conversation of Macaque’s romantic relationship. If he had to hear about yet another demon he dated, he might actually lose his mind.

“Oh let me!” MK eagerly began, “well I remember that I was sleeping when I heard Daiyu yell out.”

“Because of course it was her,” the bluenette said.

“And I walk into the room and-” as MK enthusiastically told the story, Wukong had quietly taken out the red rubber band holding his hair in a ponytail and gazed at the silky black fur cascaded down his back. And before he knew it, his fingers were entangled in Mac’s fluffy fur as the other simian sighed at the soft touches.

“Been a long time since you did this,” Mac purred as he relaxed into the grooming.

“Well it’s about time we pick it back up, besides no one is better at grooming than a monkey,” he purred, but he paused as he quietly had thought and delicately asked, “speaking of monkeys, do you want to visit the ones back at Flower Fruit?”

Mac's eyes widened as he almost instantly turned his head, but was stopped by hands, “Are you serious?”

“I mean they have missed you a whole lot,” he tried to nonchalantly say, “especially since they smelt you on the kid and was practically begging me to bring your ass over.”

“They are still demanding little shits huh,” he gave a small huff.

“The one thing that hasn’t changed.”

“…yeah I would like that,” he smiled up at him.

“Cool, cool,” he couldn’t stop his tail from excitedly wagging behind him, but he instead tried to stall it by looking at the fluffy fur once more as another purr came through. It’s not his fault he couldn’t stop it from emerging from his long time crush response and his fascination with his long fur.

“You really do have such a long fur, why’d you grow it out anyways, not that I’m complaining.”

“I dunno, I just forgot to cut it short and when I finally noticed I decided to just keep it,” he shrugged.

“Well I’m glad you did, it looks amazing on you,” Wukong said as he looked down to meet Macaque’s eyes and promptly realizing what he said, he quickly averted his gaze and nervously laughed, “Or you know, it looks good.”

“Ah, umm thanks,” the doctor said as he felt the faint blush on his cheeks.

The sage monkey was about to say something else when he noticed that a few eyes were on him and he quickly went back to his grooming session. While making completely sure that his eyes didn’t even go towards anywhere in their direction.

The traffic light trio saw the scene and they all shared a glance at one another, but opted to say nothing as the story continued and the two monkeys, in everyone's eyes, began to cuddle up together.

“Where is he?” Red huffed as he sat on the opposite side of Mei at one of the arcade booths. “Usually he’s the first one here.”

“I know he was helping Pigsy out with a large Party order, but that should have been done by now,” Mei shrugged as she took another sip of her drink.

“Well he should hurry it up else I will-”

“What’s up, party dudes!” An energetic voice cried out that instantly made Mei spit out her drink.

“Oh hell no!” She stood up as she grabbed her dagger and was inwardly cursing herself about leaving her sword at home, “I’m not about to deal with you a second time! Not today Satan!”

“Should I be concerned?” Red raised an eyebrow as he looked at MK, who was for some reason wearing a pink visor, blue headphones and an atrocious cheetah print outfit. “Cause this whole look right here is very concerning.”

“No need to worry hot stuff,” MK said as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Not here to do any lasting damage, unless you're into that,” he winked.

“W-w-what?!” A small burst of flame erupted from his head.

“I don’t trust that for a second,” the Dragon successor hissed as she still held her dagger up.

“I swearsies doll.”

“Wha-no stay focused,” she faltered but shook it off, “That is rich coming from the disembodied attachment of my friend who can just poof in and out without consequences of your actions.”

“Disembodied?” Red, still under the clone arm, confusedly said.

“Touché,” he pointed a finger, “but for real, I’m just here to deliver a message from the big boss himself.”

“Talk,” she demanded as she slightly lowered her weapon at that.

“BB will be late due to a crazy ass bitch on the block doin her usual bitch in and be all complainin about her food order being all wrong and demanding that they hand it over for free.”

“Oh,” Mei's eyebrow raised. “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

“No it did not my lovely Empress, cause next thing they knew the bitch was calling up the rest of her posse upon BB and Big Bad Boss and now she is yellin her ass about about some scam they be tryin to pull on them all.”

“I’m starting to see where this is head,” she sheathed her blade when she said that, though she did have a light blush of confusion over the nickname.

“Your thoughts be right as the next thing anyone knows, everyone is brawling with each other so hard that even some of the people on the street just up and joined in.”

“So MK got mixed up in that, but why didn’t he just text us that,” the Bull successor asked as he finally recognized that this was a clone and not the real MK.

“Cause Triple B ordered Double B to not get the food ruined under any circumstances my sweet King so now BB is hauling ass all around the town as the Karen Gang chase after his ass,” Portay MK smirked as he saw the prince blush.

“Karen Gang,” she snorted at the nickname, “Does he need any help, cause I will be more than happy to bust a few heads for him.”

“I as well.”

“Aww ain’t the both of you just a bundle of sweetness, makes me want to give you both a big ol kiss,” he flirted once more.

“Just show us!” At this point both teenagers had either a small or large flush on their faces.

“Alright Alright, I’ll show ya,” he said as he quickly made his way out of the arcade and to the streets with them both following. “But I won’t stop~ Someone got to help Double B get the ball rollin and I guess it will have to be me. This will be so much fun,” he muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing my Sugar hearts!” He smiled at their groans of embarrassment.

“Is he always like this?!”

“I met him once and that was when he had me tied up during a never ending party, which I still can’t fully remember due to all the sugar and caffeine I inhaled.”

“The WHAT?!”

“Oh yeah, that was a ride.”

“Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here, huh,” Macaque mused as he and MK climbed up the mountain.

“Right, you lived here before,” MK said as they climbed up the steps. “What was it like back then?”

“Honestly, at first it looks and feels the same, every time that I breathe I can still smell the crisp pine air and the heavy mineral undertones that I still smell on Monkey King,” he took a deep breath. “This place really brings back some memories.”

“Good ones?” The doctor to be said with a bit of hope as they finally reached the top.

“Yeah, good ones,” he stopped as his ears pricked up at an incoming sound. “That screech,” he whispered.

“Huh?” MK looked to his Dad, only to be bombarded with the most ear piercing noise.

SCREEEEEECCCCCCHHHHHH

Then, almost out of nowhere, a hoard of monkeys all popped out and practically flew towards the black simian.

“What the-!” MK was startled by the sudden attack and was about to step forward to his Dad only to pause at the sight of multiple monkeys, all of them screeching in delight, clinging onto him as the demon joyfully nuzzled them back.

“I missed you guys too,” he purred as he felt many cuddles underneath his chin, on his back, upon his arms, even on top of his head. He really missed these idiots.

“Awwww,” the adult cooed at the adorable sight.

“Man, that was faster than I was expecting,” the student turned and saw his mentor standing right behind him. “One moment they were playing and the next thing I know they all began to run off. I swear their smell has gotten better over these years.”

“So that’s why they could smell Dad on me that time.”

“You got it,” he finger gunned him as he walked up to the pile of monkeys. “So it seems this is one-”

“HISSSSSSS!” All the monkeys clinging onto Macaque hissed at their idiotic king.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” he deadpanned as he plopped himself onto the pile, with MK following suit. “But I promise we won’t be so stupid again.”

“Ooo oo,” a female monkey crossed her arms as she sat on the monkey doctor's head.

“King honor,” he raised his hand.

“Ooo,” she nodded and gave him a flick on the nose before snuggling back on top of the head.

“She really hasn't changed one bit,” Mac snorted at her antics.

“Nope, but she is still as bossy as ever,” he smiled and gave her a scratch on her head.

“Especially when she forced me to drink water,” MK piped up, “she literally forced it down my throat after one of the sessions. I didn’t think you could drown via water bottle, but when there's a monkey there's a way.”

“Yeah, sounds like her,” both monkeys said.

The sun was beginning to set as MK and the rest of the tribe were all playing out in the mountains in an extreme game of hide and seek. Extreme as in they all will literally yeet themself off the tallest rock just so they won’t get found, the first couple of times MK played this he had to stop his heart from trying to run out of his chest, but he slowly found himself enjoying throwing himself off like a rabid maniac. Is there something wrong with all of them? Maybe, but no one can deny that it is really fun.

“I swear, their IQ always seems to decrease when they play these games,” Mac muttered as he watched his child vault himself off of a rock just so the seeker wouldn’t catch him.

“Didn’t you think of this?” Wukong hummed as he smirked when he saw his student delicately land on one of the boulders below.

“Yep and I still don’t know if I regret it.”

“I mean you did worse,” he coyly smirked.

“You don’t want to talk about dumbass ideas with me Mr. ‘Let’s just ambush the trailing cart of a tired ass deity that would happily shank up on our sleep.’” He snarked back.

“Says the one who thought it would be a good idea to toss me in the water, forgetting that my stone ass can’t swim!” He shot back, they were playing around and Macaque had the jump of him and tossed him in the river. The black simian paused at what he just did and immediately panicked and dived down after him.

“You should really think about losing a few pounds, you were heavy,” he mocked and then got promptly tackled by the other monkey.

“I’ll show you heavy, how’d you like that mushroom brain,” he teased as he began to wrestle him.

“Says you rock for brains,” he shot back as he tried to get the upper hand. This went on for a few minutes as both monkeys playfully began to wrestle each other on the ground. It ended when Wukong managed to pin him down while holding his hands above his head and wrapping his tail firmly around the others.

“HA! I win!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed after he tried to get out after a few attempts. “Don’t get such a big head about it.”

“Aww, but you know it only does good things to my ego~,” he teased as he leaned down.

“No it doesn’t, simply it’s truly terrible.”

“It does!”

“Does not!��

“Does!”

“Does not!

“Does!”

“Does not!”

“Does!”

“Does!”

“Does not! Damnit!” He cursed at the trickery.

“How do you fall for it every single time,” he openly laughed.

Wukong was about to refute when he saw just how close to each other they were and sucked in a breath. He can feel his chest against his own with each breath of air, he can see the faintest shimmer of violet deep within his golden eyes, he can feel his nose touching the soft button nose of his partner.

Macaque obviously heard the intake of breath, no super hearing necessary, and was about to ask when he too stopped short. It could be from the fact that their noses were so close to each other that he could feel his warm breath, the way he could feel the muscle very clearly against his own fur, or even how his golden eyes seem to be extra bright today that he can’t. Stop. Looking.

Neither pair noticed a pair of human eyes locking onto them with a curious expression on his face as he slowly backed up.

Either way, all of those reasons are very much valid in both of their minds as a familiar silence filled the air and it felt oh so good as they just almost blend together as one. This wasn’t the usual safe cuddles that both were adjusted to, no this was something long in the making, that this was something that was more than the friend standpoint that they anchored themselves down on and refuse to step off. This was something even more than love, but the word itself is the only thing that fits what they feel for the other, and they instinctively knew that there is something more between them, something devastatingly eternal.

There can be more if they just make that step off the cliff and into the unknown air.

But not today, no not today.

Instead, Macaque put his foot back down to that safe cliff and latched on tightly as cleared his throat. “You want to get off me anytime, I kinda want to feel my bones sometime,” he managed to say. He can’t take that step, he knows he’s a coward when it comes to admitting that he actually loves Wukong, but they just became friends once more after their stupid separation and he refuses to do anything that jeopardizes it.

“Right, my bad,” he said with a fake smile plastered on as he got off him and sat beside him. He can see the air and he can feel his feet wanting to make that leap into the foggy air and see how far the two can go, but he will push down that impulse. He wants this so badly, for centuries (no matter how hard he tries to deny it) he wants to admit that he loves Macaque, but he will keep his mouth shut. His impulsiveness has already done enough damage as it is, no need to add the emotional turmoil on top of all the other shit he did to his friend.

The two of them sat in silence once more as they sat side by side to each other, totally ignoring the small moment between.

“So…what are you doing for the Lunar New Year?” Wukong asked in an effort to get rid of the silence.

“Well this year, we’re gonna spend it in the city with the others this time around. Everyone brings some food, usually, I bring the moon cakes as I have the extra hands and you can never have too many.” Ever since he had met Yanyu, who had dragged him to his first Lunar year with her family in the city, it had become somewhat of a tradition to go to the city every two years and spend time together. “What are you doing?”

“Oh you know, just gonna chill on the mountain with good food and watch the fireworks,” he nonchalantly said.

“Just by yourself,” he questioningly asked. If there was one of the many things he knew about Wukong, it was that he hated being alone on any occasion. He knew it stemmed from his own weird beginnings and his unawareness of the societal norms at the start, but it all went downhill after he was trapped in the mountain with only the bitch ass spirits keeping guard, he could only sneak in so many times before one of the guards noticed something amiss, unfortunately. (Though he quite happily stopped by when Wukong was finally free and he had quite the playtime with them, he still can’t help but grin at the sound of their screams. It was truly music to his ears.)

“Yeah,” he shrugged. It wasn’t anything new, ever since his friends have…gone, he couldn’t quite bring himself to spend the holiday with anyone other than the tribe from time to time. It just doesn’t feel right anymore…it doesn’t feel like he has the right anymore.

“Yeah, no. Your ass is coming with me to the festival,” Mac deadpanned.

“What?!” He turned his head so hard that he could almost hear his neck snap.

“You. Are. Spending. The. Festival. With. Us.” He slowly emphasized each word as if he couldn’t understand it. “Got it.”

“But-but-”

“We’re not talking about your ass here, but you are coming.”

“I don’t want to intrude, it will probably be really weird,” he tried to rebuttal.

“The group has almost twenty people and then those people will sometimes bring their friends along, the more the merrier.”

“What about how I look, cause no offense, but I don’t want to be mowed down in a frenzy to get an autograph or a picture or something!”

“We both know you have a human disguise, hell I sometimes use my own from time to time.”

“But-”

“Wukong,” he grabbed his shoulders. “You are going to come to the Lunar Festival with us.”

The monkey opened his mouth once more, but sighed and sagged his shoulder. “When have you become so demanding.”

“I learned that from you,” he smirked.

“Pfft, nahh you have always been a demanding shit even before me,” he chuckled as he laid his head on Mac's shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll join you guys.”

“Great, but if it does get too much just come grab me and we can bail to one of the rooftops,” he shifted and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

He smiled into his shoulder, “I wouldn’t mind that buttt I wouldn’t mind trying one of the moon cakes, especially if you make some with peaches in them.”

The doctor fondly rolled his eyes, “I’ll make some peach candy mooncakes for you dumbass.”

“Yes!”

[anomia-sama]

Dazai x Reader | Midnight kiss

Pairing: Osamu Dazai x fem!Reader

Warnings: suicide references (Dazai’s fault!), probably uncorrect english.

Notes: This is just my way to wish you an amazing, pure, cheerful, and energetic new year! I hope you’ll enjoy it.

◈ ━━━━━━━━  One-shot  ━━━━━━━━ ◈

Your eyes are silently running along the skyline of the light-studded buildings as you look at the vast and chaotic Yokohama from above. The city is…eerily quiet, even if it’s New Year’s Eve. There is nobody on the street, it’s surreal, scary and amazing at the same time. You’re all by yourself on the roof of the Armed Detective Agency, slowly breathing the cold winter air; your head is full of memories and thoughts while you mentally retrace what happened this year.

Downstair the Agency members are making noise: not a big party, of course, but when a half-drunk Kunikida meets a perfectly sober Dazai chaos is guaranteed. You have no idea how he made him drink so much, it’s probably one of his hidden (but not too much) talents, he can make people do what they don't really want to do. You just laughed until you cry, but now you need some time to breathe and think in silence.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

 « It’s cold outside, Belladonna. You should cover yourself. »

That whisper at your left ear makes you jump and you suddenly turn in Dazai’s direction. You didn’t hear him coming… 

« Woah, did I scare you? Sorry sorry. » 

He chants with a sly smile on his lips, exhaling a warm and all but innocent laugh. Mpft… that dummy. That annoying, lazy, foolish dummy you have a crush on. You open your mouth to reproach him, but right in that moment you notice something: he holds your scarf in his hands and suddenly he wraps it around your shoulders, slowly and with an unusual care. 

« Much better. » 

He murmurs, now looking at you with a soft smile. 

Sometimes you really hate him, especially when he acts like this, making difficult to hide the effect he has on you. You always ask yourself if Dazai knows. If he, with the brilliant brain of his and that hazel brown and detail-oriented eyes, ever noticed how you look at him, how he makes your day when he jokes around, how you blush when he teases you.

« Thank you. »

You softly murmur, avoiding his gaze and returning to look at the city. A deep and intimate silence surrounds the two of you, suddenly broken by Dazai’s sigh. 

« It’s almost Midnight. This year is finally over. » He affirms, crossing his arms on the roof railing.

« Yes. It’s been a difficult year. » You say back, and Dazai nods in response.

« You got that right, y/n. »

Looking at him you can see a nostalgic light in his irises and a sad smile on his lips. That vision silently kills you inside but…how can a human being be so beautiful and graceful, even wearing that expression? 

« So. Do you have any New Year’s resolution? » 

Dazai’s question sounds inquisitive and yet legitimate, that kind of curiosity he usually addresses to a client or a suspect. He looks at you, patient and calm, while the cold wind runs through his brown hair. It’s such a distraction, you need almost ten seconds before an answer come out of your lips.

« Yes, I definitely do. I want to be stronger, sharper, braver, happier… » You start listing, touching your own fingertips. « …I want to eat more exotic food, be more proud of myself, better protect my friends and I want to be a better me. What about your New Year’s resolution, Dazai? »

His visage is a soft yet funny mask of surprise. Your list impressed him and he looks at you with sparkling eyes and a smile full of admiration.

« Y/n, you’re soooo inspiring! » He chants again and you’re not sure if he’s joking or not, then he leads a hand to his chin with a theatrical brooding air. « Mhh…I use to live day by day, so I don’t  have proper resolutions or long-term plans. Except for one. »

A sudden scream come from downstair. 

Ten seconds left!

You’re paralyzed by Dazai’s gaze. The young detective is right in front of you, closer than you can handle. His scent is addictive…it’s hypnotic.

« Please, don’t say suicide or I’ll kill you. »

He laughs. 

Nine. 

« Is it a proposal, y/n? »

« Dazai! »

« Okay, okay, sorry. »

Eight.  

Before you can say anything, his cold hand softly touches your cheek. His fingertips slowly caress your red cheekbone in a delicate touch that makes you violently shiver. Why is he so close? Why is he smiling in that way you secretly love?

Seven.

« Let’s say so, y/n: I’m a simple and undemanding man. I don’t know what to expect from the new year and I don’t want to make resolutions. »

Six.

His hand gently slides under your chin, except for his thumb, tenderly caressing your lips. You feel like the whole world is fading away.

« I just want to start it in the best way. And I think I need your help for it. »

Five. 

Maybe it’s a dream, or maybe not… 

Four. 

…but your shaking right hand reaches his chest. 

Three. 

You can feel his breath on your lips. Dazai’s other arm slowly wraps around your waist in a silent request for consent. 

Two. 

You instinctively close your eyes and rise your body on tiptoe.

One.

Dazai gently presses his lips against yours. Pure chaos surrounds the both of you, celebration screams, fireworks, breaking glass toasts, Yokohama awakens from its silence to welcome the new year, but you can hear none of this. Nothing else matters but you and the young man tenderly kissing you. 

His lips are so soft you’re afraid to ruin them, his arms hold you tight making you feel safe, warm…home.

You know he’s a mess. You know he’s a broken man, even if he never says a word about it.

But, well, you won’t complain add another New Year’s resolution: to take care of Dazai and his inner demons.

When, now breathless, he moves away from your lips there’s a big and genuine smile on his face, that smile you would die for, and two lovely pink circles on his cheeks. His left hand carefully places a lock of hair behind your ear, then he presses his forehead against yours. 

« Happy new year, y/n. »

« Happy new year, Dazai. »

[staysaneathome]

This Was Not A Dare, Reigen

Jon glares at each of the— the suspects traitors in front of him, tape recorder clutched tight in one hand.

Martin, wringing his hands uselessly, eyes wide and beseeching. Tim, fists clenched hard enough for his knuckles to go white and returning his gaze with a death stare of his own. Sasha, arms folded to form a barrier between Jon and herself, expression a perfect mask of concern. Reigen, radiating disappointment in every one of his gestures and quips. Elias, eyes weary, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Some intervention this is turning out to be.

Jon wants to scream. Wants to reach out and shake someone, anyone, until they admit he’s making sense and it’s the rest of the world that’s gone mad.

Every single one of them (except Martin) could’ve killed Gertrude. He knows he has no proof that they did, but he has no proof that they didn’t either, can’t they see that? If they don’t want him to suspect them, it should be easy for them to actually give him proof of their innocence (like Martin did), instead of just repeating platitudes of “you know this isn’t acceptable adult behavior, Jon” and “you’re better than this, Jon”.

Who cares about knowing better or acceptable behavior when it’s your very life on the line? He’s half tempted to throttle the con artist, see how dignified or adult he is when he’s the one with a murderer on his tail!

…Not that Jon is a murderer. It’s just the principle of the thing, is all.

“Jon,” Elias says, tone soothing in all the ways he doesn’t want it to be. “This is absurd. This goes far beyond an unhealthy work environment. I’ll admit it’s partly my fault for letting it get this bad, I should have intervened earlier.”

Reigen cuts in with a hand gesture that is as effusive as it is dismissive. “That doesn’t make his behavior okay, Bouchard-san. It may be bad here, but Jon chose to follow me, Tim and Sasha, and yell at Martin, rather than going to the police or paying a detective, like Herlock Sholmes or something.”

Jon sputters. “Wh- It’s Sherlock Holmes, not—and he’s fictional!”

Reigen blinks sleepily, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? That doesn’t sound right. Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Jon all but shouts, rapidly reconsidering his stance on braining the sardonic little git with his tape recorder. “Don’t you even—an-and you’re deflecting again! Just like with your ridiculous ‘haunted gun’ nonsense!”

“I’m not!” Reigen says, clearly deflecting. “I’ve seen this kind of thing loads of times as the number one psychic. When a weapon kills lots of people over 100 years, the bad energy gets bigger and bigger until the gun grows an evil spirit and is hungry—”

“I refuse to believe Gertrude Robinson was murdered by a sentient blunderbuss!!”

“Be that as it may,” Elias interrupts, shooting them both a stern frown. “This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about, Jon. Given how badly it’s affected your work ethic, I will be taking direct action to ensure it does not continue.”

Jon can feel his shoulders hunch almost against his will, dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of whatever punishment is about to be unjustly inflicted on him.

Only Martin looks half as worried as he feels, glancing between him and Elias nervously. By contrast, Tim looks downright triumphant, smirk nasty and vindictive. Sasha’s somewhere between those two, not openly celebrating his soon-to-be-downfall, but not acting like she’d lift a finger on his behalf either, though he’s unsure why that feels like it should surprise him. She’s always been as neutral as Switzerland.

Reigen, oddly enough, has more in common with Martin than with Tim. He’s staring at Elias like he’s waiting for a bit of news he knows he won’t like.

Jon thinks he’d appreciate that more if he wasn’t about to be unfairly lambasted simply for trying to stop a murderer and bring justice for an old woman who probably died frightened and alone. Much like Jon probably will once he’s been hobbled by whatever Elias is about to say next.

“Such as by restricting access to the archives from members of the public who are ultimately doing you more harm than good.”

…Wait.

What?

“What?!” Tim, Martin, and Sasha echo.

Reigen glances between them all, blinking in confusion.

Jon shares the sentiment entirely. His punishment is…for someone else to be removed from the archives? Someone he doesn’t employ or even like that much, no less?

He must have misheard, surely.

Though maybe not, given how Tim looks aghast, glancing between Elias and Reigen. “Okay, no, Reigen’s clearly not the problem here—”

“I’m very sorry, Tim, but Jon has made several remarks about the disruptive nature of Mr. Arataka’s presence in the archives.” Elias sighs. “From the arguments like the one we just witnessed to the nonsensical purchases of oddities inspired by his presence, such as Duolingo subscriptions,” Meaningful glare at Jon who resists the urge to clutch his phone guiltily, “That are now billed on the Archives’ expenses, it unfortunately seems as though he is dragging down productivity for all of you as an active stressor.”

“But we’re much better equipped to take statements from people who don’t speak English because of that!” Martin protests, stepping forward. “Isn’t it an advantage to have a more, more international perspective for our work?”

“One positive in a sea of negatives does not an advantage make.” Elias says, sounding infuriatingly like he’s misquoting something. “And really Martin, how realistic is it that this would help in more than a few isolated cases? I expected better from you.”

Martin’s face crumples, and his shoulders hunch, making himself smaller.

Jon finds his own mouth opening to—what? Say something? What would he even say?

Luckily, Sasha intervenes before he can dig his own grave further. “That’s as may be, but he’s a wonder for morale. He and Jon are funny, not anything serious, and I don’t think we’d have come to you about Jon‘s behavior unless he encouraged us to—”

“Which only fits into the delusion where Jon feels an outsider is rallying his subordinates against him, which is not good for his paranoid outlook.” Elias replies calmly. “And it’s never a healthy work environment when one employee feels the others are making them the butt of a joke.”

“I’d say that’s not as bad as when the boss feels he has the right to violate everyone’s privacy whenever he wants to just ’cause he’s feeling sad!” Tim growls.

Elias begins to answer, before Reigen finally speaks up.

“Sorry,” The con artist says carefully. “But you are…«I know this one…» banning me from the Archives? Yes?”

“That is the long and short of it, yes.” Elias says, grudgingly

“Why?” Reigen challenges, eyes hard and searching. “What have I, personally, done that’s wrong here? What behavior do I need to correct?”

There’s a moment of silence. The whirring of the tape recorder sounds uncomfortably loud.

“Mr. Arataka, are you currently under the employ of the Magnus Institute?” Elias asks, brow furrowed.

“Ah, no, no, but—”

“Are you looking to become employed by the Institute at this point in time, as a prospective member of the Archival Staff?” He fires off rapidly.

“Su-Sorry, but if you could just go a little slower—”

“Then I am afraid that unless you’re looking to fill out an employment contract or a Statement form, we cannot help you, Mr. Arataka.” Elias spreads his hands wide. “We are an academic institution, a place of research and learning. The Institute cannot allow for social dalliances on company time, especially not when those visits are negatively contributing to the work environment and the wellbeing of our staff.”

Tim throws up his hands, “I-I cannot believe this!”

Reigen’s mouth works soundlessly for a moment.

“Arataka is my…what do you call it? First name?” He says, at last. “Using it in this context is…inappropriate. Please call me Reigen, if you would, Bouchard-san.”

“Of course. My mistake, Mr. Reigen.” Elias does have the decency to look somewhat abashed. “Though, regrettably, I am going to have to ask you to leave the premises within the next twenty minutes, or I will be forced to call security.”

Reigen nods, jerkily, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Jon almost wants to call out to the fraud as he turns to go, grab him by the shoulder, pick another argument, something. He knows he should be happy, be glad that this thorn in his side will finally stop bothering him, but instead he just feels—befuddled. Off-kilter.

What happened to the man who once spent three hours arguing for the “spiritual effectiveness” of entirely performative and useless rituals, saying that ensuring his clients left his office fooled and contented was better than actually uncovering genuine supernatural forces and learning all there was to know about them? Why is he going so-so easily now, when he’s made Jon fight tooth and nail in every debate he’s had with the so-called psychic?

At the door, the con man pauses.

“Bouchard-san. You said I could come back if I had a statement to give?”

Elias shifts in his seat, looking bemused. “W-well, yes. That is a service we do provide. Of course, the statement would have to be genuine, and verifiable as such before we let you back into the Archives.”

“We don’t even do that for most of the rubbish we do take,” Tim mutters under his breath, and though Jon is glad he’s not the one being shot a quelling look, he does have to agree.

The con man turns back.

He’s got that smirk on his face that immediately puts Jon’s hackles up on instinct, prepared to argue against whatever inane point he’s come up with now to defend his phony psychic title.

“Gotcha.” Reigen says, far too cheerfully. «Ja ne.»

Then he strolls out of the office, as cool as a cucumber.

Jon could even swear he hears him whistling as he makes his way down the stairs.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

“I’d do him.” Sasha pipes up, unhelpfully.

“Sasha!” Martin hisses, scandalized. “D-don’t you have a, a—”

“Oh, I don’t have to worry about that.” She remarks, far too blasé for someone in a newly committed relationship. “Tom’s heard about him too, and he agreed he’s just our type.”

“And I’m not?” Tim jokes, but there’s a hard edge to it that Jon’s found himself increasingly familiar with in the past few weeks.

Sasha shrugs with a mischievous little smile, as if that mattered very little to her.

Elias coughs. “Right. Well. Whatever your relations to Mr. Reigen are, please try to limit them to outside the workplace in future.”

The rest of the intervention is surprisingly subdued. Elias gives Jon access to the footage from the cameras in the rest of the Institute, and Tim bodychecks him on the way out of the office, muttering about how nice it must be to never face any consequences for his actions. Sasha follows, the way she won’t meet his eyes a condemnation in its own right.

Even Martin doesn’t say anything to him, just bites his lip and hurries past back down to the Archives. It doesn’t sting. It doesn’t.

Even as he settles in to watch and rewatch the CCTV records of Gertrude’s last week alive, Jon can’t shake the ridiculous feeling of foreboding that’s dogged him since Reigen left.

Most of him wants to say it comes from the fact that despite the fact that Reigen has not appeared in any of the camera records for the Magnus Institute before he started his term as Head Archivist in 2016, isn’t banning him from the Archives just letting the con man run around London with impunity, with no way for Jon to ascertain his movements or motives? That instead of solving a problem, Elias has just given a potential murderer free reign to escape?

But a small part of Jon, one that never could deny the sensation of being watched, that is frozen in second-hand terror whenever he reads a Statement, knows, Knows that it this stems more from the idea that the fraud will actually accomplish what Elias has unwittingly challenged him to do.

The illogical but pervasive surety that he will do so.

Jon’s not sure if he’s more afraid that Reigen Arataka will vanish entirely, another unfortunate victim become an unsolved mystery.

Or that he’ll come back, and bring whatever he’s managed to unearth on his insane quest with him.

[crescentsteel]

Just Friends - Part 7

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo , model fem reader warnings: sexual tension, slow burn word count: 7.2k 

A.N:

- Finally!! I'm so glad to finally release this. October was so hectic and I'm a very slow writer. - I'm so sorry for the mistakes on the previous chapters. No one beta reads for me. So I went back and edited Chapters 3-6. - So sorry for the word vomit on this chapter. I was out of control. - Thank you for all the nice comments!! I swear. They keep me fired up and inspired.  - As always, lmk if you want to be tagged in any of my works,

Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list

“No! It’s not what you think!”

Kuroo almost laughs at how cliche you sounded, a typical response of someone who’s been caught red-handed. You’re about to chase Kenma, but he grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Maybe you should wear your shirt before you go after ‘im.” He tries to hide the mirth in his expression and tone. Your face is so red, you look like you’re about to burst. He also doesn’t want to add up more to the awkwardness you might feel later, so he’s gonna let this one slide. He’ll just pretend that the massage thing was as harmless as it should be. 

You put your shirt in a jumble and walk briskly to Kenma. He follows at his normal pace, settling behind you when he catches up to you and Kenma.

“Sorry about that,” you laugh nervously. “He was just giving me a back massage.”

It was kinda the truth, but Kenma looks dubious. 

“It sounded more than a massage.”

He covers his lips with his back hand so he wouldn’t laugh. Although his rascal self wants to tease you more, he can’t let you feel any more embarrassed than this. He looks at Kenma and shakes his head minutely with a knowing look, hinting not to push the subject any further. 

“Naah. Y/n here is just really stressed so she moans like she’s being fucked.” Okay, maybe he couldn’t completely let it slide after all. 

You irritatedly look at him and punch his arm with more force than usual. “Piss off,” you hiss. 

He dramatically rubs the arm you just hit. “Ow! So violent.”

Kenma ignores the antics and just passes by you two. He’s about to plop himself on the couch, but pauses. He instead gets a chair and seats himself there.

You couldn’t overlook that. Obviously, in Kenma’s mind, you and Kuroo were doing something indecent there so he doesn’t want to be in it. You want to clear it up to Kenma that you really weren’t doing anything of that sort. Well, you were about to pounce on Kuroo, but still, it didn’t actually happen. 

In a way, you’re relieved that Kenma interrupted at the right time. You might have done something you will harrowingly regret afterwards.

“Don’t sweat it, y.n. He just misinterpreted it.” Kuroo’s unusually magnanimous today. It’s strange. He wouldn’t have lived this down on a regular day. Maybe it's because of your no sex relationship? Still, this is aberrant of him. He shouldn’t fail to notice how that last  moan of yours was not of comfort. 

“Right?” He adds, his eyes gauging your own.

So that’s how it is. He is aware. But he’s giving you the option to disregard what just almost happened. You’re relieved, but also confused at the tiny shards of disappointment prickling in your chest. This is what you wanted, for you to avoid sex and Kuroo in the same room. It shouldn’t be confusing.

You look down and break away from the eye contact. You put a hand on your hip and the other on your temple, which then moves to brush your hair back.

With a long, audible puff, you speak.

“Of course, it was nothing,” you return to his gaze with a dry expression to camouflage the lie behind your words. But at the same time, you also wait for him to say something or for his eyes to show something other than indifference. You don’t know what it is you want or expect, but you wait for it. You’ll know it when you see it. 

It doesn’t come though as he shrugs it off like it was nothing. 

Disappointed, that’s what you are. You don’t like the feeling, but you are.

—

You ring your driver again, hoping that this time he’ll finally answer. If he doesn’t get to you any soon, you’ll be late for your shoot. You can’t be late for this shoot in particular. Mitsuki’s the creative director. She’s a very pleasant one, but she absolutely hates tardiness. No exceptions. She gets all sour and crank when someone’s late. 

The other end of the line picks up. “Ms l/n. I’m so sorry. One of the tires got flat. I need to change it, but I’m still stuck in traffic.”

Of all the days to get a flat tire on a heavy traffic, it had to be this day. You exhale heavily to clear the irritation getting under your skin. 

“How long before you’re here?”

“I think about an hour, Ms.”

You aren’t the type to get mad at hired help, but you’re really in a pinch. In an hour, you should be in hair and make up already, not arriving only then. Mitsuki gets enraged when someone’s 15 minutes late. To be late an hour, you can’t imagine how she’d be. There’s no way you’re going to wait here for an hour.

“Don’t come anymore. Just get it fixed.” You say coldly before you end the call. It wasn’t the driver’s fault. You wouldn’t bother getting a driver if your car hadn’t been acting up recently. Being dumb this morning, you forgot about your busted car and was late in this morning’s meeting with a client. You found yourself brisk walking in heels at the hotel’s lobby earlier just to save yourself from any more delayed minutes. And now, even your driver’s car is jacked up. 

“Y.n?”

You turn around at the recognizable calm voice you heard. It’s Kenma, except he wasn’t alone. Kuroo is right there beside him. It was kind of weird to see them together at this place and both in business wear. 

“What’re you two doing here?” 

“I’m working with Kenma here to sponsor our next promotional video.”

You just stared at the two of them. You’re used to the three of you just fooling around when you’re together. Meeting like this when you’re all in the middle of doing your jobs is something new to you. 

“And who might you be giving a hard time on the phone, hmm y.n.?”

They heard that? They must both be near while you were getting bummed out from being late this morning and potentially late this afternoon. 

“Ah! I need to go. My driver can’t make it. I’m going to be late,” you spiral back to your hectic schedule. “Bye.” You give them a quick wave, and despite your heels, you walk as fast as you could towards the entrance of the hotel. 

You try to hail cabs that were passing by, but almost every cab was occupied. And for some reason, someone always managed to get the empty cabs before you can even spot them. To worsen your luck, it began to rain. You frantically tap your left foot on the concrete as the panic sets in you.

Mitsuki’s gonna kill me.

You bite your lip and contemplate how you’re going to arrive in the venue on time. The answer you found made you turn back on your heels to go back inside the hotel, only to find them already there behind you. 

“You’re here,” you exhale, relieved that they haven’t gone anywhere out of your sight. “I’m in a bind. Can anyone give me a ride?” 

The two men exchanged pithy looks, but you don’t bother figuring out what that could’ve meant. You just need the help you typically won’t ask for since you’re always doing things on your own.

“I can’t. I have a stream coming up. Sorry, y.n.” Kenma first spoke. You shift to Kuroo, hoping that he can give you the time of day. “Yea, sure. Am free for the rest of the day actually.” He says with a brief smile. 

“Oh, thank God!” The panic and nerves were clearing out of your system. Despite the awkwardness of your previous massage fiasco, right now, you’re glad that he can help. 

“Bye, then.” Kenma quickly took his leave as the hotel valet stepped out from his car and handed him his keys. 

“Should we go now?” Kuroo asked. “Aren’t we waiting for your car?” “No. I don’t want strangers handling my car.” “Then why did you go here?”

Amusement shows on his face at your question. “I saw your cute attempt to hail a cab. Is that how rich kids do it? Let someone else steal their ride for them?” You smile sweetly, disgustingly sweet, then roll your eyes before saying, “Let’s just go.”

You told him the location of the shoot. The drive was comfortable as you both share work conversations with your usual banters on the side. Being friends with Kuroo is confusing and reassuring at the same time. With the history you two shared, you need to tread the waters of your friendship carefully every once in a while. If it wasn’t the sexual tension, it was the affection you felt towards him that would sometimes seem like resurfacing. Even with all that, you can’t bear to walk away from what you presently have. You feel like you really found genuine company with him and Kenma.

“We’re here. Let me just get an umbrella.” He looks back to the back seat and stretches his right arm to reach for it. The current angle of his face emphasized his sharp jaw and the length of his neck. You were just thinking how you need to tread carefully, but easier said than done when you know exactly how your fingers have grazed that jaw, how your tongue has tasted that neck, and much more. 

“What’s taking you so long? I might as well get drenched from the rain,” you snap because you can’t stand your own indecent thoughts. 

“Found it.” He says and returns to his normal sitting position. “Why the hell are you suddenly cranky? Geez.” You feel bad for being suddenly grouchy. He was just being nice and you were being nasty for reasons you can’t tell him. “Sorry. Just don’t want to be late,” you apologized.

He shrugs it off nonchalantly. “Hey. Where’s my umbrella?” You ask when you see him reaching for the door with only one umbrella in his hand. 

“We’re sharing this. I only have one.”

You purse your lips to the side and sharply avert your eyes elsewhere, your irritation resurfacing again. You feel uncomfortable with the idea of being that physically close to him. You’ve pushed the massage incident behind, but that doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten about it. 

“What is up with you? What are you so pissed about?”

“Nothing. Can we go now?”

He stares at you for a good 3 seconds before getting out and opening his umbrella. He moves to your side of the vehicle and opens the door. You get out and try to avoid any raindrops. He closes the door and presses his car keys to lock the vehicle. 

You both start to walk towards the entrance of the place. You’ve never felt more awkward in your life. You’re avoiding getting past the edge of the umbrella while also avoiding Kuroo’s body. 

“Why is your umbrella so small?” 

“The heck are you talkin about? This is the standard size.”

You don’t answer him. The umbrella isn’t small. He’s just huge and his whole body occupied almost all the space under the shade. You flinch when he suddenly grabs you by the shoulder and pulls you close, so close that you can feel the firmness of his body pressed onto yours. 

You raise your gaze to him with a raised eyebrow. 

“You’re gonna get wet if we don’t huddle closer.” You could accept his reason, if only you didn’t catch the miniscule curl of his lips and the skittish glint in his eyes. It was so typical of him really. Maybe you should stop being so worked up all the time. 

“Fine.” Even though he was messing you, you can’t deny that it’s much more comfortable. You’re safe from the rain and his body provided heat from the coldness of the downpour.

He doesn’t do or say anything more as you both get to the doorway of the bar where the shoot will be held. He puts down the umbrella when you reach the shade of the building. Before you’re able to get away from Kuroo’s hold, the door opens. Mitsuki was holding her phone to her ear when she met your eyes. 

“I was calling you and you weren’t — oh.” Her eyes flew to the hand on your shoulder and traveled to its owner. “Well, well, y/n. You leave for a good while, then come back loaded.” You can always count on Mitsku to not hold her tongue. You gently release yourself from Kuroo’s hold to avoid looking defensive. “It’s not like that,” was your thrift reply. 

“Kuroo, this is Mitsuki, my creative director for today, sometimes my friend too. Mitsuki, this is Kuroo.” 

Both of them exchange casual greetings for meeting the first time. 

“How come you mention our relationship, but not yours?” referring to you and Kuroo. You sigh. “He’s also a friend.” You turn to Kuroo and thank him for the ride and his time. 

“Is your driver picking you up?” he asked.

You seal your eyes shut at your own stupidity. Because you were panicking and irritated, you sent your driver home. You open them again and purse your lips in a straight line. “No. I’ll just take a cab.”

“With your cab-hailing skills in this rain? Good luck with that.” he snorts. “Haha. Real funny.” From the corner of your eyes, you see Mitsuki with an entertained grin on her face, obviously enjoying the exchange between you and Kuroo. 

“Call me when you’re done. I’ll come pick you up then.” You want to protest but it will just drag on. You don’t want Mitsuki seeing more of the dynamics of your relationship, so you thriftly say “Okay.”

“Kuroo-san, right?” Both of you shift your attention to Mitsuki. “Actually, we need a male model because the scheduled one today is a total wimp and cancelled last minute.” She shamelessly eyed Kuroo from head to toe. So that’s why she was about to call you. The shoot was cancelled. 

When she looks at you, you mouth the word “no” to let her know that she shouldn’t do what you think she’s about to do. The reaction you got was her smiling widening before speaking to Kuroo. “Do you have an agent? Can we talk over the phone right now to discuss?”

That’s when you step forward. “Uhhh. He’s not a model. He used to be a volleyball player, hence the height and build.” You say defensively. You nudge Kuroo with your elbow so that he’ll back you up, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s just there waiting for Mitsuki’s next words. 

“An athlete, I see.” She nods approvingly. “That’s perfect! I don’t have to talk to anyone. It’s completely up to you then.”

“Errr. I don’t really know anything about modeling. Sorry.”

Your relief was short-lived when she tugs you to her direction and grips both of your shoulders. “Then your friend here can guide you. She’ll be your co-model anyways.” 

He probably figured out by now why you were so apprehensive during the conversation just now. You don’t want him as your co-model. 

His grin just confirmed your thoughts. “I’ll go for it then.” His eyes sparkling with mischief made you surrender. You already admit defeat in your head even though the shoot is just about to start. 

You both get in hair and makeup. Being a woman, you take longer to finish. The clothes the stylists are arranging on you are taking while as well.  They let you wear a very long, elegant gold dress that fits your upper body like your second skin, but the material is flowy from your waist down. When you arrive at the set, he’s already there talking with Mitsuki while waiting for you. Mitsuki notices you first. “Alright! We’re good to go.”

When Kuroo faces you, you almost don’t recognize him. His usual emo bangs were gone. They brushed his hair up cleanly. The suit he was wearing earlier was replaced by gray slacks and white long sleeve polo that has two top buttons open. You have conflicted feelings towards the hair and make up staff that did the work. They did a remarkable job with his overall style. He does look like a model like this. But also, why the hell did they make him look this damn good? The regular Kuroo was bad enough for you.

“This feels weird. I feel like I have too many things on me.” You scowl at his remark. “Too many? Wanna try being a girl?” He’s about to retort but Mitsuki claps twice which calls both of your attention.

“So our client is a liquor brand and the theme is something like wild love at the bar. What I want is you two giving the impression of having a passionate first encounter while you’re out drinking. Give me something and we’ll work it out as we go on, mkay?” 

You knew you’d be working with a male model for this brand, but you didn’t expect that they’d go with something like this. You thought it was just going to be glamour shots to showcase the drink.

But what Mitsuki said, ‘Wild love at the bar’?? That is not something you’d want to be doing with him. It reminded you of the first night you met. 

“I’m all ears on what to do, y/n” His haughty smile doesn’t help the situation one bit. You take a deep breath. This is not the time to muck around. You’re the experienced one, so you’ll be taking the lead. “Swear to me that you’ll take this seriously.” You glare at him, no trails of humor apparent. The change in his demeanor surprised you. You forgot how intimidating he can get when he’s serious. You’re so used to him being an idiot all the time that it catches you off guard. But for today, you’re glad to have it.

You explain to him how the whole shoot will go. For the first shot, you ask a staff member for a chair and tell Kuroo to sit on it. “Get the glass with the liquor and look at the camera while holding it.” He did as you told, except he has this perplexed look on his face with a noticeable discomfort from the way his lips curled in a corner. 

“On second thought, maybe this is a bad idea,” he said after trying the first time. You want to agree with him, but the shoot is already happening. You just want to get over it already since you’re already there. “Nooo. Uh-uh.” Mitsuki’s tone took a sharp turn. She wasn’t happy with what Kuroo said. “Just imagine you’re in a bar, chilling with your favorite drink and you just snagged the hottest girl in the place.” 

“Hottest girl aka me,” you comment on her instruction. That seemed to work because he changed back to his normal self and looked at you with amusement. “Just like the night we met, huh?” He said it low enough for only you to hear, but you still glanced nervously to Mitsuki if she caught any of it.  

“That’s a nice expression, Kuroo! Keep looking at her like that.” You ease up since it looks like she didn’t hear it. You put your elbow on his shoulder and tilt your hips to give your waist an S curve while angling your body towards him at the same time. You lift your chin up a bit and look at the camera with parted lips.

“Yep. Looking good dear.” Mitsuki signals the photographer to start taking the shots. You both slightly alter your angles so the pose will have variations. Sometimes you look at Kuroo, smile flirtatiously at him, or look at the camera in a sultry way. Every time you two would look at each other, you’d ‘cheat’ and look at the bridge of his nose to give the illusion that you’re actually looking at his eye. 

While looking at the shots from a separate screen, she suddenly asks the photographer to stop. You both straighten your bodies while awaiting instructions.  “It looks nice,” she said before looking at your direction. “But it’s boring. There’s nothing wild about it.”  You space out for a bit because for the first time, you don’t know how to proceed. You’re used to fashion shoots and runway. You’ve never had an ad with this theme. “Y.n, dear, can you be a bit aggressive towards him?”

You raise your eyebrow from disbelief. “A-aggressive?”

Mitsuki nods. “Throw yourself at him, dominate him, take control. mkay?” You feel a bit pressured when she’s just looking at you two and waiting for you to start posing for the camera. You don’t have a solid idea in your head, but you just go for it. You try to prop yourself up on the bar counter, but your dress won’t allow you.

Kuroo notices your dilemma and gets up from his seat. “You could’ve asked for help, you know.” He positions himself in front of you and grabs your waist. His hands were strong yet gentle. With your palms still on the surface of the counter, he lifts you up while you put weight on your arms so you can usher yourself properly. You’ve been deliberately avoiding his gaze, but right now, your eyes are glued to his face. 

“Yes. Like that.” You both flick your gaze towards Mitsuki. “Do that.” She instructs the photographer to move the side so the angle of the shot captures you both without him blocking you completely. You realize the position you two have. “I agreed to this to make you uncomfortable, but I’m not gonna lie. I’m the one extremely uncomfortable right now.” Kuroo whispers with a hint of regret on his face. The camera flashes start going off but something clicked between the two of you that you two end up laughing. It’s probably the awkwardness and the nerves that’s been hanging on the air that something so shallow as Kuroo admitting his uneasiness, cracked you both up.

It was just a brief exchange of laughter but you feel relaxed. Even though Mistuki is pretty cool for a creative director, she’s still as serious as any professional. So when you see her smiling as you apologized for the delay, you’re a bit shocked.

“No worries dear. Let’s continue then.”

You feel more confident now. You’re you. The reason you became successful on an international level is because of your professionalism and ability to produce quality results.

From being seated on the counter, you’re a few centimeters taller than Kuroo. That completed the idea in your head. You took the glass drink and placed it on your right hand. “Put your hands on my hips,” you tell him then lightly lift his chin with your index finger, “and look at me like you worship me.” The command earned a raised eyebrow from him but you pay no heed to it.

You extend an arm over his right shoulder, the glass dangling on your fingertips. With your index finger on his chin, you look to the camera with provocative eyes. If anything looks wrong with Kuroo, you’ll just let Mitsuki handle it. After all, she’s the one who asked him to be a part of this. 

“Oh yea! That’s really good.” Compared to before, she looks pleased with the shots now. The pose was captured a few times before she speaks again. “Instead of using your finger, grab his hair to tilt his head back.” You comply immediately and tugs his locks downwards. You might’ve done it a bit rougher than you wanted because you heard a raspy grunt from his throat. You got distracted, so instead of looking at the camera, you look at him. 

You regret it. When you said he should look at you with worship, you didn’t think he’d do it this well. Because his hair is pushed completely all the way back, you see every aspect of his face. Nothing was blocking his eyes that were full of yearning and desire. He’s looking at you like you’re not just the hottest girl in the bar, but the most beautiful person he’s ever laid eyes one. 

“Pull him closer and look here y.n.” You do as you’re told, thankful that you needed to look somewhere else. “Damn. You two look so good right now.” She gently claps her hands while looking at the monitor.

“I’m already satisfied, but let’s just do one more for another option. Umm, Kuroo. You be the aggressor this time. Y/n, …. you know what to do.” She winks after.

Well, not really you don’t. She just wants you to do the thinking on what to do. You put the glass down and put both your hands on his shoulders. “Help me down?” You ask with an easygoing smile. You don’t want to ruin the momentum of the shoot, so you decide to be nice to him for now. 

 “You got it,” then his hand travels up your waist and guides you down back to the floor. You tell him to lean on the counter. He follows with no complaints. You get his arm and ushers him to wrap it on your waist. When he goes along with your silent instruction, you raise your leg to his side.   

“Tug my skirt up to my thighs.”

He doesn’t react and just squints at you.. “Huh?” Since he did not grasp what you meant, you take it to yourself to do it and slowly gather the material at the ends. Then, you yank it up to your thigh. “Get it?” He whistles as he gets the cloth from your hands. “Hey. Don’t do that. If you’re a real model, you’d be in trouble if I report that behavior.”

“But I’m not a real model, am I?” You glare at his provocation. You won’t be having any of his crap at your workplace. “Kuroo,” you say with a menacing glare and he immediately gets the threat behind it. “My bad, my bad. I’ll behave again, kay? Stop scowling now.” You relax your face and take a deep breath. “Moving on then.” You enclose your left arm on his neck while you plant your right on his chest. You don’t want to direct him any further than this. If this is unsatisfactory, Mitsuki will say something. 

Aaaand she does. “Kuroo-san. Aggressive please. Own her. You don’t want her to get away from you.” Upon hearing Mitsuki’s additional instructions, everything about him intensifies three folds. He pulls you even closer, causing your breath to hitch when his face is dangerously near yours all of a sudden. His sleeves don’t do anything to mask the firmness of his arms. And even with the velvet fabric, you can still the strength of his thighs as they’re pinned on yours. The heat of his hand ignited the skin of your thigh as he clutched the fabric and your flesh forcefully. And his eyes, they no longer worship you. They spoke of something similar, but not quite. 

He wants to devour you whole. 

It was too overwhelming for you, so you look away and close your eyes dramatically to make it seem like you’re being swept away in the moment. After one camera flash, “Okay dear, but I need you to look at him this time.”

The few seconds of breaking away from his fiery stare did you some good. You were able to collect yourself again, but not enough to truly look at him. You just focus your gaze right between his eyes as you did earlier.  

“Nooo. When I said look at him, I meant really look at him. Respond with your own passion. You’re looking a bit of a scared vegetable right now, honey.” You’ve never had feedback like that in forever. Maybe when you tried modeling the first few months, you received something similar to that. But never when you started doing it full time. 

You don’t want to, but you have to. You finally meet his gaze and tap into something inside yourself that you’ve been holding back. You let your desire for him deluge you, let it surge through your veins until you’re aching for him. You push yourself even closer to him, not allowing even air to pass between your bodies. 

“Yes! YES! You want him so much, but you shouldn’t.” 

It was just as she said. You want him so much, so much that it almost hurts. You part your lips slightly as you get lost in the moment.

“Oh my God.” Her words sounded distant. It was there. You can hear it, but what clouded your senses was your heart pounding hard against your chest, his hot breath mingling with yours, and the way his eyes are now devoted to your lips. Not long after, he angles his face so that your lips are almost touching. Just a tiptoe and a kiss will already take place. You clench your fingers on his shirt, holding yourself back from that one tiny push that will allow you to feel his lips on yours again. 

“Holy Shit! HOLY SHIT! That was it. That was the money shot.” Mitsuki’s shrill voice which was followed by her squeal broke the trance you were in. You know what she meant. The shoot is done. Yet, you still feel hot. The heated atmosphere around you two still hasn’t caved in. He let go of your thigh as you put some space away from him. You settle your hands on his shoulders while you rest your forehead on his chest. He doesn’t move either. His hand remains on your waist, but without the force this time. With his other hand, he caringly skims the curve of your shoulder. 

“You okay, kitten?”

His voice is so gentle, you nearly convince yourself that it sounded loving. You nod weakly before heading back to the dressing room without saying anything. 

Kuroo’s gaze followed your back as you disappeared. He was amazed but also bothered at what just happened. You looked really into it, like you really wanted him. If the shoot didn’t finish any sooner, he might have closed that tiny gap that separated your lips from his. He’s been aching for you for so long that his control is slipping inch by inch every time there’s an opportunity to cross that line of friendship you set. When he saw you let go and completely relent within his hold, it was maddening at how he couldn’t have you at the moment. What’s worse is that even without the glamorous set, he knows you’re still not his to have. 

He walks towards the room where his clothes were hung and changes back to his usual suit. He asked the make up staff to remove everything on his face. He doesn’t like the feeling of having a layer of cosmetics on his skin. The hair they couldn’t do anything about because they used a lot of product to fix it up. 

When he gets out of the room, Mitsuki approaches him with a satisfied look on her face

“You did so well for someone with no experience at all. Do you have a card? I can hook you up for other gigs. You’ll do great.”

He smiles graciously at her generous offer, but he doesn’t want it. “Sorry, but I’m not really interested. I only did it cause it was her.” He said truthfully. Mitsuki’s mouth curled in amusement. “You know, y.n’s really good to work with. She always had this cool facade that never went down, and it works for her. We love her for it. But today,” she pauses as she gives him a meaningful look. “I’ve never seen her show such vulnerability and rawness. It was,” she sighs with admiration for you.

“Beautiful, wasn’t it?” He knows exactly what she’s saying. After all, he has seen several times how captivating your authenticity can be. 

“Soo, are you two dating or what?” Her eyebrows twitch up and down from anticipation at what he’s about to answer. He badly wants to say yes, but he doesn’t have that luxury. “Naaah. Like she said, I’m just a friend.”

She’s obviously dissatisfied with his response. He is too, but that’s the lousy truth. Out of the blue, she takes her phone out. “Too bad though. You two looked really good here.” She showed him the photo and it was you and him earlier. You were seated in the counter with your arms on his shoulders and his hands on your waist. It was when you were both laughing at his stupid statement.

“Can you send me that photo?”

“Why should I?”

He’s well aware of what she’s trying to do. It’s a business transaction, except for the lack of formality. She wants to get something in return, and he knows exactly what it is. 

“You’re good.” He admits with an impressed glint in his eyes.

“I am. So what’ll it be?” He knows that she knows she has the upperhand of the negotiation. She could probably tell that there’s something going on with the two of you. It’s just a matter of deciding which information to give her. But he didn’t have the fortune of having too many options. He didn’t want to reveal the nature of your relationship before. He wasn’t sure of your feelings for him. He can only speak for himself. 

“Fine. I sorta like her.” 

Her eyes brighten up. “Aha! I knew it. You should totally ask her out, kay? You’re gonna have tall and beautiful babies.” She put one hand on her cheek and closed her eyes while screeching at her own daydream of you and him getting together. When she calms down, she sends you the image file. “For real though. I’ve never seen her like that,” she points to your dazzling face in laughter in the photo. 

“Hey. What’re you two talking about?” You’re back to your normal clothes, but your hair and makeup was still there. 

“Nothing. Let’s go now?” He spoke immediately before your nosy director could say something. He walks to your direction before heading out together. “Bye! Update me, Kuroo-san!” Mitsuki said as she waved goodbye. You couldn’t help but be curious on what he should update her about. 

The rain stopped so no more umbrella horseplay. When you both get inside his car, you immediately ask him, “What was that about?”

“Uhh. She asked if I wanted to do other modeling projects.”

“Do you?”

He didn’t hesitate before answering, “No. That sort of stuff is not for me. I only did it to piss you off.” He starts the engine, then pivots his body to face you. “I must say though. I enjoyed seeing you eyefuck me.” Just when you are getting used to the peaceful, non-smug Kuroo, his true personality kicks right back in. Good thing you took your time getting changed and basically just calmed yourself down. 

“Glad you did. That’s the most you can get from me after all.”

His smile turned upside down at your remark. “Tch.” Your lips tug upwards at the side from his lack of retaliation. 

“I haven’t told you yet, but it wasn’t my first modeling experience.” 

You’re a bit surprised. Even though he has the appearance of a model, you didn’t think he’d do it. You agree with what he said just a while ago. It wasn’t for him. He’s best at his job right now. 

He gets his phone and scrolls up. He must be looking for a photo to show you as proof. When you see his screen, your heart swells. It was you and him a year ago. The neckline of your shirt was pulled to your shoulder for a makeshift off-shoulder while he knotted his t-shirt to form a crop top. You two wore large smiles while posing silly in front of the cam. It was right after when you told him that you’re a model.

“I- you... umm. You kept these?” You swipe the screen and see every single photo you took that day. Not one was deleted. You remember the laughter and absurd joy behind each frame. 

“Yea. Why wouldn’t I?”

One more swipe and there’s no other photo after yours. That’s when you notice that the photos are in the Favorites album. You felt like you were about to tear up. You’ve never felt so cherished in your whole life. Even though you left without saying a proper goodbye and no indication of going back, he still kept them. You tried so hard to forget about him, yet there he was, keeping these small tokens of what you had - proof that you really had been a part of his life.You felt something inside you crumble piece by piece. You should be scared, but at the moment, you don’t feel any fear. Instead, you were enraptured. 

You can feel your cheeks hurting from how wide your grin is. You don’t bother hiding it from him. 

“Can you send these to me?” You turn to him with the smile still plastered on your face, but he frowns at your question. 

“Those photos came from you.” 

You look back at his phone, your big smile reduced into a faint one that’s traced with melancholy. “I deleted them when I went to the US.” If he asks why, you wouldn’t know how to answer. Fortunately, he doesn’t. He gets his phone back from your hand and fiddles with it a bit. A few seconds later, you hear a notification from your own phone. When you open it, all the photos are sent to you. 

He looks at you warmly, his face devoid of anything but heartfelt fondness. “There. Like you never got rid of them.”

---

You lie on your bed with bottomless thoughts that night. Kuroo’s words weighed more than they should in your head as you stare at the photos. 

You deleted them to completely erase any trace of his existence in your life. Now they’re back in your phone with not a single photo missing from the stack. Ironically, it’s also you who asked for them back. Yet, you don’t mind. You came to accept that those memories existed. They happened. There’s no use trying to forget they did when he’s already back in your life anyways.

Looking at you and Kuroo in the images, you can’t avoid thinking how simple those times were. You were just two cool people who had sex for fun. You had no clue things would happen as they did - falling for him, leaving, and for some reason - destiny or whatever, meeting him again. The past you tried to leave behind crept up to you and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

You thought you’ve moved on. You’ve thoroughly convinced yourself that you’ve disposed of all unnecessary emotions that involved Kuroo. You thought that whatever it is that you felt when you met him again was just remnants of yesterday. You were so wrong. That‘s just what you tried to tell yourself, repeating the idea over and over in your head until you believed it. 

But it never really happened. You haven’t forgotten about him. When you went on dates in the U.S., you’d remember him. So you stopped trying to see anyone and attributed that to being scared of getting hurt again. Hence, you shut yourself out to anyone until you no longer found dating to be interesting. You told yourself getting in a relationship would just get in the way of your career. 

That wasn’t true. 

The truth is just as he said. Your feelings for him are still there, you never did get rid of them. The question now is how to proceed from here.

You jerk when your phone rings right at your hand. 

‘Kuroo’

You don’t want to answer it. You basically just admitted to yourself that you’re still in love with him. Hearing his voice right now would be dangerous for your fragile heart.

But it might be something important. He doesn’t usually call.

You press the answer button. You were about to say hello, but your heart was beating so fast that you were unable to get any word out.

“Hello?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat so you could speak. “Yeah?”

“Is something wrong? You sound a bit off?” How he could tell even through a phone call is unbelievable. “Everything’s fine. Why’d you call anyways?” You do your best to sound normal. “Block your Thursday next week. I’m throwing a party.”

“What for?”

“Mmm. Just felt like having one.”

You minimize the call to check your calendar if you had any plans that day. “Alright. I have an event in the morning, but that night’s free.”

“Nice!!” He sounded a bit too glad. 

“Is that why you called?” It’s a bit suspicious that he rang you just for that. It’s just a party. He could’ve texted you instead. 

“Why? Am I not allowed to call when I want to?” Your heart skips a beat from the playful tone in his voice. You picture him smirking on his phone while he’s lying in bed. You bite your lip at the image in your head. 

Screw you and your stupid imagination. 

“Good night, Kuroo.” You said dismissively. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything else important anyways. He chuckles from the other line before speaking so ever softly with tenderness that gives you butterflies in your stomach.

“Good night, kitten.” 

It was just a simple good night but you were reeling. You fight the smile that was forcing itself to form on your lips. You look at your photos one more time and sigh. 

You are so in love with him. 

On the other end, Kuroo is all smiles to himself. Nothing beats hearing your voice after a long day. Once again, he stares at the photo Mitsuki gave him that afternoon. He wishes it was real. He wishes you were smiling for him, laughing with him, and happy with him. If only you gave any indication that you like him more than a friend, he would’ve made his move. 

Even though he knows you still desire him, he wouldn’t settle for just sex. He doesn’t want a repeat of the past. He wants something further than that and more importantly, you deserve better than that. But so far, he could tell you were enjoying the friendship and companionship only. Even if he wanted to take things forward, he’s not sure that that’s what you want. You haven’t given anything away for him to make his move. He doesn’t want to risk it and have you running for the hills. 

Will he ever make you fall for him? Should he just leave things as is or do something bolder for you to realize that to him, you’re not just a friend?

He sighs. 

He’s so in love with you.

Part 6 | Part 8 |  m.list

taglist: @lia-faerie-queen​ @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @babythotshq​ @arendizzle​

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

A Fine Line

I've really enjoyed Sami Zayn's paranoid, obsessive belief that there is some sort of WWE conspiracy against him. I'm also kind of persuaded that the company has exhibited a prejudice against him for no reason. So that's where this story comes from.

Pairing: Sami Zayn x OFC

Word count: 2,972

Content advisory: smut and a major dereliction of duty by a professional in a position of power

You’ve come to dread visiting this place. It’s not that the neighborhood is so bad, although you always make sure to park your car in the monitored lot rather than on the street, even though it means you have to walk a couple of blocks. You’ve been in worse places.

But it’s started getting to you, these regular appointments that seem to be getting more and more alarming. He’s not well. It’s not your fault and it’s not really your business. You’re just the Health and Safety officer who’s been assigned to meet with him while he’s experiencing what the company calls a “stressful episode”. You’re just there to determine if he’s healthy enough, mentally and physically, to fight every week and to recommend a medical course of action if you think he’s slipping. Lately, though, you get the feeling that everything that you report is getting distilled down to one word: yes. Yes, he’s fit to work, because he understands who he is, what the job entails, and how to do all the moves he needs to so that no one gets hurt. The fact that for the last three weeks you’ve been saying that he needs a break to stave off any problems in the future seems not to have registered with anyone. So every time you come back here and talk about his health, you feel like you’re failing him. Worse, it feels like you’re being dishonest with him.

You step onto the landing at the back of the house where he rents his tiny apartment. He could afford better but, as he’s told you, he likes it here. He needs his money for other things. What things? He doesn’t like to specify. But he’s certain that there’s a time coming when he won’t be earning what he is now, when he doesn’t think he’ll be able to do this kind of work anywhere.

As usual, you knock twice in quick succession and then twice slowly. Yes, you have a secret knock to gain admittance to the home of the man who is officially fine to risk his life and the lives of others in a wrestling ring.

“Come in,” comes the answer from inside.

You squint as you enter the darkened apartment. All the blinds are pulled down and he’s even pushed towels along the window sills so that no light leaks through the bottom. You can make out his figure sitting cross-legged on the floor but that’s about it.

“Lock it behind you, please,” he says, his tone as polite as ever but firm.

You do as he wishes, engaging both locks before turning back to look at him. He reaches over and turns on a lamp that’s sitting near him. It’s not a lot of light but it allows you to see that he looks more or less the same, no visible signs of self-harm or weight loss. His eyes shift rapidly over you, around the room, towards the door, all over the place. They’re feverishly bright, which is never a good sign. Despite his yoga-like pose, he shows little signs of agitation: his fingers tap ceaselessly on his knee, he chews a little on his lip, and he blinks a lot.

There’s a thick, musky aroma to the place, not exactly unpleasant but animalistic, not something that belongs in an urban apartment.

“Hi Sami,” you say, sitting down on the small, uncomfortable sofa in front of him. You place your handbag on the floor and keep your hands flat on your knees where he can see them. You’re not hiding anything.

“Hello.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“I feel wonderful.”

“That’s good.”

He nods vigorously. “I feel like I’m finally putting everything together.”

“How do you mean?” You hate it when he’s like this. On a selfish level, it means that he’s probably going to talk at you for three hours about the conspiracies against him and the enemies he’s made, and you’ll end up stuck in your office until eight or later parsing through your notes, trying to figure out what’s germane to an evaluation of his health.

“Did you see my match?”

“I saw some of it,” you answer guiltily. Wrestling is not your thing and you shouldn’t need to watch the product, which is fictional, in order to understand the very real health of your clients. But with Sami, it’s different. The divide between real and imaginary is fuzzy in his head and that makes it as real as the furniture in this room as far as his mental health is concerned.

“It looked really good.” You try to sound enthusiastic.

“I lost,” he grumbles.

“I know. Has that been hard on you?”

“It’s what I expected. That’s what the people want.”

“What people?”

“The people! The fans. The ‘WWE Universe.’” He waves his hands and smirks as he says those last two words and you do have to admit that it sounds pretty dumb. He sees your lips twitch in amusement and smiles. “All those weird little faces on screens.”

“They weren’t faces on screens last week, though.”

“No, they were real. Or what passes for real.”

“You don’t think those were real people watching you?”

“They were the chosen ones. The ones that the people in charge wanted to be there. It’s not like it used to be. It’s all controlled. Only people they’re certain about get to see what’s going on. You see what they want you to see.”

He’s getting irritable, you can tell, something which always makes you nervous. He’s never gotten violent or threatening with you, not even close. He’s raised his voice and paced around and that’s been stressful enough. He’s not huge like some of the guys he works with but he’s strong and when he gets upset you can see the muscles beneath his skin. If he turned on you, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

What’s truly horrible is that whenever he does start to get riled up, there’s a part of you that feels a little excited by it. It’s the worst thing that you could be thinking about a client, the most hideous betrayal of your ethics. But there’s something about him, all that energy and intelligence, misdirected though it may be.

“That’s what entertainment is, though,” you counter. “The people producing it always control what the audience sees.”

“Entertainment,” he hisses.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in an insulting way. I know you’re an athlete.”

“No, I am an entertainer. I’m both. But when they say it they mean I’m there for their entertainment. They mean that I’m to do what they tell me. I did this for years and I could come up with my own stories and use my own ideas. I can’t do that anymore. They won’t let me. They’re scared of what I’d do.”

“Has anyone said that to you?”

He laughs mirthlessly. “No one says that to you. No one says anything real, ever. It’s all ‘we think you should do it this way’ or ‘we think this is a good plan for you’. No one tells you what they’re actually thinking. You have to dig it out, you have to look for it behind what they say and then you discover what it is they’re really up to.”

“And what is it that they’re up to as far as you’re concerned?”

He glares at you and leans back a little.

“Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one they’re paying to interrogate me every week.”

“You think this is an interrogation?”

“Isn’t it?”

It’s obvious that this is devolving into childishness. Every time you’re here, it happens at least once but it usually takes you longer to trip up and give him a reason to shut you out.

“I’m sorry, Sami. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was… I want you to be able to trust me, to feel like you can talk to me. Yes, I work for the company but my job, what I trained to do, is keeping people healthy. That’s all I ever wanted to do. Do you believe me?”

“It’s a nice thought. You seem nice.”

You smile, projecting all the warmth and kindness you can muster.

His expression grows suspicious again. “But it’s still them sending you here. Maybe they don’t tell you what to say or what information you’re supposed to be getting from me. Maybe they just figure that they can send this sexy woman over to act like my friend and I’ll forget about everything they’re trying to do to me.”

“I’m not here to be your friend, Sami. I’m here to see if I can help you, professionally. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pretending to be something I’m not.” After a moment’s reflection, you add, “Thank you for the compliment, though.”

He chuckles a little. “Are you allowed to think that?”

“You mean, am I allowed to be complimented that I like hearing you say I’m sexy? I don’t know. But you know I’m flattered by it.”

He can’t deny that. He knows full well that you’ve developed a crush on him. He can see it in the way that you blush when he says nice things about you, and how happy you look when he opens up to you a little. It’s uncomfortable that he knows the power he has over you but it’s also helpful because he talks to you more easily than he would to others. He likes knowing that you’re a bit soft on him.

He leans back, propping himself on his elbows so that his shirt falls away from his chest. You’re used to him appearing with his shirt undone so that you can see a bit of his torso, but this is more of a display than you’re used to. You demurely cross your legs at the ankles and focus on meeting his restless eyes.

“What do they tell you to get from me when you come here?”

“They don’t tell me anything,” you insist. “I’m supposed to come here and determine if you’re able to fight or if you need to have some sort of therapy.”

“You mean like electroshock therapy,” he grunts.

“No, there are lots of different things I’d recommend before that. For instance, like I keep telling you, I wish you’d consider medication to help cope with this paranoia you feel about the company and what they have in mind for you.”

“Paranoia?” he snorts. “What does that mean again?”

“It means you have an unreasonable fear or anxiety regarding something.”

“So what’s the opposite of paranoia?”

“I don’t really know what you’re asking,” you stammer. “I guess it would be not living in fear. Or recognizing a real threat and reacting to it appropriately.”

“But there isn’t a word for that, is there?” he sighs. “Paranoia is an unreasonable fear. But there isn’t a nice, concise word for a reasonable fear.”

“No,” you concede, “I suppose there isn’t.”

“So if I feel like I’m being victimized by WWE, if I feel like they’ve prevented me from rising to the top of the company, you tell me that I’m being paranoid. But there’s no word for what I think if I’m right.”

It gets to you that he’s right. Everything that you’re supposed to be talking to him about is predicated on the idea that he’s imagining things, that he’s wrong about how the company has been treating him.

“I want to help you, Sami. That’s all I want, I swear. That’s what I’m trained for.”

“You’re a very nice person,” he says with an ironic grin. “I mean, you’re the sort of person they don’t give a lot of information to.”

You want to feel insulted by that but it’s also true: you know that your bosses tell you the least they can before they send you out to meet with talent. The real decisions are made well away from you. Making him believe that you can accomplish something for him involves having to convince him that you have some power, but you’re not sure you’re in any position to do that.

Sami leans forward, amber eyes fixed on yours, and places his hands on your knees.

“What do they tell you to do with me?”

“They don’t tell me anything. They just tell me to talk to you. And you shouldn’t be doing that.”

As you’ve spoken, Sami has pushed your legs apart and has started planting kisses along your thighs. He looks up at you with a petulant expression before pushing his face deeper, breathing hot and quick against your panties, licking at them until they’re as wet on the outside as they are on the inside.

Sami, we can’t be doing this,” you pant, crying out as he sucks against the fabric hard, making your clit quiver.

“Why not?” he hums. “You want it. I want it.”

He presses two fingers roughly inside you, stroking that spot inside you that makes you scream and thrash against him, seeking release. Even with your panties still on, just feeling him lick and suck at you through the cotton barrier, you come with a force you can’t remember experiencing ever. He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy as you continue to spasm around him, trembling for long minutes until you’re too overwhelmed and have to shove his hand away because you’re so sensitive that any contact hurts.

“Think about it,” he whispers, pulling himself on top of you, “They send you here to look at me and make sure that I’m good enough to fight, to make money for them. They send you in here with the idea in your head that I’m being irrational, that I’m imagining things.”

He grips your face in his hands, staring into your eyes as he pulls your panties away and thrusts his cock into you. It’s true what he says, you think as he starts to move, although all thought is quickly supplanted by pleasure, by the feeling of him stroking at your g-spot and grunting softly as he fucks you. You simply lock eyes with him and let yourself be overwhelmed by their earnestness and honesty. No one at your job as ever looked as convinced of anything as he does staring into you as you both come together, yelping and gasping, then shaking and clinging to each other as you come down from your highs.

“Do they listen to anything you tell them about me?” he murmurs, gathering you close to him and caressing your face.

You tilt your head back, moaning a little and exposing your throat to him, an invitation he accepts, sucking hard at the flesh. It’s true that no one pays attention to what you say, least of all about him. And it’s true that there does seem to be some sort of weird block they have against pushing Sami and some others to the heights they deserve. You aren’t ready to tell him that but the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze tells you that he doesn’t have any doubt what you’re thinking.

“What else do you have on your schedule this afternoon?” he whispers.

“You’re my only plan.”

“So spend some time with me.” He pushes his head against yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth so quickly it takes you a second to adjust and respond, passionately kissing him back, whimpering and moaning to let him know how much you’re enjoying it.

“I’m really not supposed to do this,” you gasp.

“I know there’s a part of you that believes me,” he pants, letting his detumescent prick slide out of your body. “I can tell you don’t think I’m crazy because I think they’re trying to keep me down. Whatever they sent you here to do, I know that all you want is to end up with what’s right. So I say, this is right. Let’s do what we really want and figure other stuff out later.”

“I don’t know. This is a pretty huge breach of conduct for me. Even if I do think you might be onto something.”

He draws a finger lightly along the edge of your bottom lip.

“If you think I’m onto something, maybe you should stay and figure out if you think I’m worth believing.”

Hours later, you’re in his bed, gripping the sheets with all your might. He’s kneeling, hands dug into your hips so hard that you know there will be bruises before he even lets go. He’s pounding into you with the force of a jackhammer, lifting you so that every movement strokes your g-spot until you convulse around him, screaming his name, your orgasm triggering his own.

You can’t remember how many rounds you’ve had. Your body is like one giant pulsing nerve, quivering uncontrollably as he pulls out of you while pressing his thumb firmly against your clit.

“So do you still think I’m crazy?”

You no longer know what you should think of him. Whatever he’s done, you’ve done far worse. So are you even in a position to judge him? Thinking about what your superiors take from your reports, is there any reason to believe that they have a better grip on the situation than he does?

“I think you’re pretty stressed,” you murmur, pulling him close so that you can nuzzle your face against his. “I think that both of us could do with a break from this company.”

The two of you kiss again, passionately, excitedly, gripping each other as if you were the only stable things in the universe.

Professionally, you’ve done something unforgivable. But perhaps it’s something that will be understandable in the long term. Perhaps you’ve chosen to be on the right side.

[ifellintothestyx]

What would I do if I was brought to the world of Bungou Stray Dogs?

Stay FAR away from the Port Mafia. The other fangirls who are willing to risk their lives can go swarm over there, I'mma just stay out of range of bullets, lemon bombs and Rashoumon

No way am I going to the Special Abilities Department either. I don't trust any of them, and they won't trust me

...Ah, shit, that leaves the Agency, doesn't it?

Assuming that I get to stay there, the shit-stirring may commence *rubs hands*

Casually mention stuff about them that only the viewers know about. Those are private facts, not any of a random lost girl's business, but how does she know

"You know, Kunikida-san, you'd get to work a lot earlier if you didn't spend ten minutes being contemplative every morning." "What?"

"Oda was right, by the way, it was Cinderella, not Snow White." "...excuse me?"

"How does it feel to get stepped on by Akutagawa, tiger-boy?" "How do you know this?"

"Fukuzawa-san, your old scarf was terrible and I'm glad you're no longer wearing it." "..."

Whenever Dazai and Chuuya meet, I'd play Everytime We Touch right at the chorus

Akutagawa and Atsushi are staring each other down in the ADA office and I'm just sliding into the client space, singing "Two bros, chilling in the hot tub, five feet apart cuz they're not gay"

Repeatedly call Akutagawa's jabot a cravat

"What happened to your eyebrows, Akutagawa-san?" "Five seconds. Run."

Ranpo will know what's up and he and I will immediately team up

First order of business when staying in the BSD universe: Befriend Ranpo and Yosano, therefore gaining access to snacks, braincells, and a variety of sharp weapons

Kyouka and Kenji will be my new best friends and I will make it my job to give them normal teenage experiences. It's important for their mental and emotional development

"STYX WHY IS THE MAFIA CALLING ABOUT VANDALIZED CARS I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WERE TAKING THEM OUT TO ICE CREAM!" "Teenagers do stuff like that all the time though! And we did get ice cream afterwards!"

Never said I knew what normal teenage experiences are, so technically it's Kunikida's fault

You thought I wouldn't take advantage of Kyouka's mafia intel? Ha.

I'll introduce them to Tumblr and wait for the explosions

Move every piece of stationary on Kunikida's desk five inches to the left.

Meeting Katai just for the WiFi

"Mori was shipping you and Chuuya, by the way. Just in case you weren't aware." "You know too much."

1) Write fanfiction of Soukoku, Shin Soukoku, and Zenki Soukoku. 2) Get Katai to spread them online under an anonymous account. 3) Send links to both organizations. 4) Wait.

"Did I start another war? My bad." "SO YOU SENT THOSE LINKS?" "I did more than send links, Kunikida-san."

"You currently have an old man in your lap, Haruno-san." "But this is my cat? He's not that old." "I warned you, Haruno-san."

I'd befriend Tanizaki and Naomi buuuuut–

Spread the fanart of Soukoku, Shin Soukoku, and Zenki Soukoku in my phone to the internet. Also through Katai.

You're probably asking: how did I get Katai to do this for me? I have fanart of Gin, too

"This is the spot where Kyouka and Atsushi got kidnapped by Akutagawa and brought to the ship that led to the iconic Shin Soukoku fight that perfectly demonstrated their differences in both mentality and combat–take my picture with it!"

"This exact spot is where Dazai and Chuuya fought Rimbaud, displaying their strengths and weaknesses and how they perfectly complemented each other that led to the unstoppable partnership that coined the name Double Black, and held hands for the first time–take my picture with it!"

"This building is where RanPoe all started–take my picture with it!"

"This is where Fyodor stabbed Mori and Naruto ran away–take my picture with it!"

"Take my picture with it!"

My goals:

Act omniscient

Friend list must be composed of Ranpo, Yosano, Kenji, Kyouka, and Katai, for maximum fun

TAKE MY PICTURE WITH IT

Find out what the 53 requirements to be Kunikida's wife are and sell the knowledge when I get back

Recreate the fandom for the three partnerships and make sure the fangirls and fan content will be able to continue on without me before I leave

[babeyvenus]

The Wolf Among Us

Bigby x OC

Summary: Sonya Blaze, A.K.A. Hell Rider, is a half fable, half mundy girl who comes to Fabletown to learn more about her side of the folktales. She works alongside Sheriff Bigby Wolf's as his newest partner and together they strive to find out who's behind the unexpected murders in Fabletown.

TW: Mentions of death, gore/blood, alcohol, smoking drugs, sex implications, suicide, guns and ofc language.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Chapter 9: The Open Arms

Bigby pulls out a cigarette and lights it as he walks into the lobby of the Open Arms hotel. He looked around the gross lobby, trashed and almost like a ghost town. Bigby glances at a soda machine and scoffs at it. 'This shit will kill ya.', he thought as he took a puff out of his cigarette then stomped it.

He tapped the bell to get the attention of whoever was behind the front desk. Behind the desk, he hears a door open and footsteps approaching the front. “Want it by the hour or for the whole night?”, he heard a familiar female voice ask. She leaned over the desk to get a better look then she gasped.

Bigby’s eyes widened as he realized who it was. “Beauty.”, Bigby said, shocked.

Beauty pushes the gate up so he could see her better. “I work here, okay? I work the front desk. It’s to help pay rent. So now you know. I know I should’ve told somebody….But Beast would lose his mind if you knew. Beast is a proud man, Bigby. He wants to do right by me, and he….he just couldn’t handle it if he knew I had to do this so we don’t get evicted.”

As much as he didn’t care, he responded, “Well, your secret’s safe with me, alright? Let’s not make a big thing of it.”, Bigby said, shaking his head.

“Thanks, Bigby. And thanks for covering for me last time, too.”, She said. “So….what are you doing here?” Bigby pulls out the key from his pocket and shows it to her. “Oh….you have a key.” she said, shocked.

Before she came to conclusions, he addressed it quickly, “Someone else was murdered last night.” Her shoulders slumped. “I heard.”, Beauty said, frowning.

“The victim was someone who worked at the Pudding and Pie, Lily. She come around here ever?”, Bigby asked her. “Oh! Oh, yes. The, uh, the troll. I did see her. I mean, you know, we never really spoke, but she came off a tad intimidating.”, Beauty replied.

“Ever see Lily with someone here? Maybe on a job?”, he asked her. “Sometimes, but nobody I’ve recognized. I haven’t worked here that long, though.” Beauty replied. "How about a room register? Or someone named Mr Smith?“

"That’s all we get are Smith’s, Jones’s or Johnson’s. I think the last ones are jokes.”, Beauty said, with a shudder.

“Have you seen Sonya here? Or maybe somebody glamoured as her?”, Bigby asked. “You know, it’s funny. I did see someone who I thought looked a lot like her, but she didn’t say anything when she saw me, even though she knew I saw her. I just assumed it wasn’t her and went about my business.”, Beauty shrugged.

“Ever meet a girl named Faith, or just maybe hear that name?”, he asked her. “I might have. I don’t know.”, Beauty said, as she shakes her head. “By the end of the night, it’s kind of a blur with all the names. Tara, Brandy, Amber, Heather.”, she listed. “….sorry.”

“I talked to Tweedledee earlier today. He mentioned you in passing. Do you know him….or his brother?”, Bigby asked her, crossing his arms. “I took out a loan for backpay. It was like our third notice, and ever since then those annoying freaks have been pestering me for the money plus interest.”, she grumbled.

“Why take out a loan with those two?", Bigby asked her. She hesitantly mutters. "It was from the Crooked Man.”

“Beauty….”, Bigby said with shock and concern. “You don’t know how desperate I was, Bigby! I had nowhere else to go!”, she said, angrily. “Look, if this ever happens again….come to me, Sonya or Snow first, alright?”, Bigby said. Beauty looked down in sadness and replied. “I tried.”

Must’ve been another thing that was pushed back. Bigby shook his head. “That won’t happen again.”

He starts to head up the stairs but Beauty stops him. “Wait. It’ll be better if anyone sees you that they at least see you with me, so they know I didn’t let you just wander around by yourself.” She said as she walked out from behind the desk, and led him. She walked past Bigby and said. “Just five minutes? Please?”

“We’ll see Beauty.”, Bigby said as he followed her up the stairs. “Just be ready to act like I’m trying to kick you out.”, she warned him. “That won’t be hard.”, he mutters.

“Listen, Bigby, I assume you’ll be filling some kind of an official report or something, which is fine, it’s just that, I was wondering, if….I need to be in it?”, Beauty asks nervously. “Trust me, the less I have to write down, the better.”, Bigby replied. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” Beauty said, smiling a bit in relief. “Well, here we are. Which one was it?”

Bigby looks down the hall. There was two doors on the right and two on the left and one down at the very end. His ears twitch to the sounds of loud moans and bed squeaks. He tried his best to ignore it as he passed the rooms and stormed to 207.

He knocked on the door but there was no response. He tried to open it but it was also locked. “You have keys to these rooms?”, he asked, turning to Beauty. “I thought you had a key.”, Beauty said.

He shook his head. “Not to this one.”

“Hold on, Bigby, I can’t just let you go into any room you want. Seriously, what if someone found out? I could get into a lot of trouble.”, Beauty said in a worried tone.

“You have to let me in there. This is the room. 207.”

“But I–”

“This is the room Lily was in.”, Bigby emphasizes. “Fine.”, Beauty said and pulled out her master key, jiggling it in the handle but it didn’t open. “Well that’s weird. This key is supposed to open every room in the building. But it’s not working.”, she said.

“Beauty?!”

“Ah, shit.”, Bigby mutters as he and Beauty turn around to see Beast at the other end of the hall. “Beast.” Beauty said, shocked that he found her. "Bigby? How could you do this to me?“ Beast asked, devastated. “H-Hold on-”, Bigby started.

"No, sweetie, no, wait a minute!” Beauty exclaimed.

“How could you do this? We’ve been together through everything! I took care of you! I lov-”

“It’s not what you think! Please!” Beauty pleads to Beast. “You’re cheating on me! With him?!” Beast exclaims, frantically, pointing at Bigby. “No! No, Beast. I promise! I’m not.” She said as Beast walks up to her. “I’m helping him! That’s all!”

“I’ll bet!” Beast growls, angrily, as his eyes turn red. “I’m sure you help each other just great! I know what this place is!"

"Beast, trust me, this is the last thing I want right now. This is not the way to handle things.”, Bigby said, holding his hand out. “What do you know? You don’t have anybody!”, Beast shouted, making Bigby frown. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s my wife!”

“Beast, listen to me, there’s nothing going on!”, Beauty screams, getting in front of Beast but he ignores her and charges at Bigby, grabbing him by the collar. “Bastard! I guess I finally see you for who you are!”, Beast roars. Beauty pulls on his arm. “Stop! Stop this!”

“You told me you hadn’t seen her! You fucking liar! Then you got your partner involved and made her lie for you!”, Beast fusses.

“Will you listen to your wife? Just calm down and–”, Bigby starts to explain but Beast shoves him away, changing into his form. Beast throws a punch at Bigby but he dodges and moves out of the way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”, Beauty yelled at Beast, angrily. Bigby glares at Beast, who started to change his form as well. “You aren’t even listening to me!”, Beauty shouts at Beast as he swings at Bigby. Bigby grabs Beast’s wrist and throws him against the wall on the right, creating a hole.

“Stop!” Beauty shouts as Bigby grabs Beast by the shirt collar and throws him against the other wall. “Leave him be! This is my fault!”, Beauty pleads to Bigby, pushing him away. Beast roars and grabs onto the pipe from the exposed wall and pulls it out. “Beast, no! You don’t understand!”, Beauty screams. Beast tries to swing it at Bigby, knocking him to the side of the wall.

Beast tried to press the pipe against Bigby’s neck. Bigby raised his claw and poked them into Beast’s eyes, making him scream out in pain. Beast let go of the pipe and backed away a few feet to wipe at his eyes but Bigby tackled him into the ground and punched him.

"Bigby, no! Don’t hurt him!“, Beauty pleads, pulling at Bigby. He stops but Beast grabs a nearby bottle and smacks Bigby off of him. Bigby shakes his head as Beast gets up. "You ruined everything! She’s my fucking wife!”, Beast yells before Bigby shoulder charges him into the 207 door and knocks the door down.

Bigby pants heavily and looked at the scene before him and calmed down. “Shit, Bigby.”, Beast said as Bigby changes back to normal and walks deeper into the room.

“What have you done?!”, Beauty shouts at Beast, who wipes the blood off his eyes and scans the room, too. “W-What is this?”, he asked in shock. “Look what you did to the door!”, Beauty fusses at Beast. “Stand back. Y-You don’t want to see this.”, Beast warns her, trying to block her way.

In the room, candles were set up on tables seemingly blown out recently, a bed that was covered in skulls and blood. Bigby stared at the bed in shock then held his hand out to the couple. “Beauty, stay in the hall.”

“What? Why? What’s going on?”, she asked and walked in the room and saw the bed. “Oh my God!”, she looked away in fear. “Don’t touch anything.”, Bigby says.

“Is this…? Is this…?”

“Lily met her client here, Mr Smith, whoever he is.”, Bigby informed.

“And then…”

“Must’ve happened right here.”, Bigby said, crossing his arms. “Last night?”, Beauty asked. “Yeah.”, he nodded. “I was on shift last night!”, Beauty said, eyes wide. “On shift?”, Beast asked worriedly. “Beauty… you’re not…”

“I’m not a prostitute, you idiot! I work the front desk!”, Beauty growled. “Do you remember who rented this room last night?”, Bigby asked her.

“I don’t think anyone did, not last night. Maybe they have it long term? I don’t know! How am I supposed to know?", she asked, feeling jumbled. "It just seemed like a totally normal night. How is that even possible? There’s so much blood!”, she said as she looked at the bed.

“Just...Go lock the front door. Keep people out of the hallway. I need you to be sure no one comes in here. This is a crime scene. Okay?”, Bigby said to Beast. Beauty turned to him and said. “Just do what he says. I’ll explain later….okay?”

“Bigby, what kind of a person could do something like this?”, Beauty asked him. “That’s exactly what I’m about to find out.”, Bigby says as he looks at the bedside table to see with a built-in cassette player. “Do all these rooms have the same clocks, with a built-in cassette player?”, Bigby asked Beauty.

“I think so, yes.”, Beauty says with a nod.

He looks and sees a smaller table off in the corner next to a dresser in the back of the room. On the small table was a candle and a book. He walked over to the table and looked at the book. It was a black book titled Ghost Rider.

He read a page about the origin of the first Ghost RIder, snorting at the story all up until Sonya’s story, coming up as the next Ghost RIder. “Sonya Terrence…dead father, found out about the first Ghost Rider and named herself after him.” He saw pictures of her on her bike, her being engulfed in fire, etc.

“What is that?”, Beauty asked him. “It’s a book about Sonya. Or, rather her story.”, Bigby says, flipping to another page, seeing her as teen, standing beside a hospital bed in tears and talking to a sickly pale man in black. A sticky note was attached to this image. Grim Reaper? Mephisto?

“The whole book is about her?”, Beauty asked Bigby. “Pretty much...”, he said, flipping to the next page. He saw a picture of Sonya holding a skull in her hands while her entire head was on fire. He could only make out her own skull. Was she speaking to ghosts? Who’s skull is she holding…?

“Why is she on fire?”, Beauty asked him, looking over his shoulder. “I’d assume that’s her power.”, he says, closing the book. He looked over at the dresser and saw an ashtray with a cigarette butt in it. He picks up the cigarette and sniffs it.

“It’s a Huff and Puff.”, he says, narrowing his eyes. “I thought you were the only one that smoked that crap brand.”, Beauty said. Not appreciating her bashing on the brand he smokes, he replies. “Apparently not.” And sets the cigarette back down in the ashtray.

He noticed a bottle of wine next to the tray. “He brought wine.”, he says, picking it up. “Classy.”, Beauty said, rolling her eyes..

Right next to the bottle was a cassette tape. Bigby picked it up and saw a label on it. “For My Arrival”, it said. He put it in his pocket and looked around the room to see that a closet was cracked open. He goes to open it, seeing a black robe with chains wrapped around it, hanging from a hanger with a scythe leaning on the closet wall. It was ragged and dusty looking.

“Someone’s been rough with this dress, it’s torn.”, Bigby said, picking at a sleeve. "Oh no! She must’ve been wearing it! He killed her and then….he took it back off–!“, Beauty rambles, panicking until Bigby shakes his head. “No. There’s no blood. It must’ve been torn some other time.”

The thought just makes him angry. He looks over the dress and hums. “What is it?”, Beauty asked him. “This Mr. Smith was trying to correlate his fantasies with her story.”, Bigby says. “It kinda makes sense.”, she said. “I guess he wanted to get the details right but couldn’t do it completely."

Bigby walks over to the tarnished bed and says, “Looks like she was lying down when she was killed. Some of the skulls are on the floor…”

“How do you know that?”, Beauty asked. "Just look at it. The body had to have been dragged off the foot of the bed, there.“, he said, pointing. ”The body? God! You could say she. Poor girl. I just can’t even imagine….“ Beauty complained, making Bigby roll his eyes. He huffed looking at the bed. "What? What are you thinking?”, she asked.

“Its like he’s doing her theme. She never exactly had an ending to her story since according to her, it just happened a few years ago. I’ve never met the previous hell rider. Crane had mentioned her dad was also a ghost rider, didn’t say he got sick and died.”, Bigby said, shaking his head.

"Poor girl...“, Beauty said. "It actually fits. He’s acting out scenes from the book. That poor girl….she couldn’t have known…..She probably just needed the money. She could have been….anyone. How did she wind up here?”

“It sounds like there was a series of choices involved. I’m sure she would’ve done things differently if she knew where things were headed.”, Bigby said. Bigby looked over at the cassette player and went to put the cassette in, and pressed the play button. It had a piano chord for a little while until beats came on afterward. He hadn't heard the song but thought it was a weird choice for a place like this.

“Bigby, this, I think I heard this music. Last night. It was playing really loudly for awhile, then stopped in the middle. I didn’t think twice about it, at the time, I mean you hear all kinds of things around here and I guess I’ve already gotten used to blocking them out.”, Beauty said, shrugging.

“Could have covered up the sound of the murder. It is kinda loud.”, he said, picking up a skull. He held it in his hands for a moment. “It's a prop.” Beauty’s eyes widened a bit. “How can you tell?” He looked at her. “From what we’ve seen so far, he doesn’t seem like the type to clean out multiple skulls. Plus, real skulls are heavier.”

“Oh, God. This creep put that girl in a reaper robe and recreated his fantasy only to kill her… who could be that obsessed with death…?”, Beauty asked.

“Are you almost finished? I don’t want to be here any longer.”, Beauty said, hugging herself. “Yeah…”, he said but something caught his eye. He noticed a small envelope. He picked it up, walked over to the dresser and opened it up.

He pulls out a picture. It was a picture of Sonya leaning on her bike and looking at her phone. He set the picture down on the dresser and pulled out another one. “Are those pictures of the dead girl?", Beauty asked, walking up to him.

Bigby shook his head. "Not exactly.”, he mutters, looking over another one.

“How do you know?”, she asked.

Bigby pointed at the picture he pulled out. “Snow's in this one.” It was a picture of Sonya and Snow discussing something in the Woodlands lobby. “Oh no. Bigby….this kind of stalking, it doesn’t just stop by itself. Trust me, I know about this, first hand. He’ll keep trying to get closer and closer.”, Beauty said.

“His stand in for Sonya is gone now, so…”, Bigby trailed off, reaching in the envelope. “The next step closer...”, Beauty mumbled to herself. Bigby pulls out another picture, the next made his heart drop. He looked between the picture and the bed. “What is it?”, Beauty asked him, seeing the horror on his face.

In the picture, Lily, glamoured to look like Sonya, was laying on a bed in the black tattered robe, her eyes closed. The man hovering above the glamoured Sonya, his left hand caressing her cheek while his right hand was up inside of the robe between her legs and smiling fondly was…

“It’s Crane.”, Bigby said in disgust.

However, watching through the Magic Mirror, Crane saw the entire investigation at the Open Arms. He clenched his fist, walked over to the Magic Lamp, raised it to slam it down on the Mirror, shattering the Magic Mirror.

[evanoracronwell]

Life as he knew it

Chapter 2 - What’s next?!

Buddie♥

“I’m your father. And I already love you so much, little girl. You’ll see, we’ll be fine. I promise I will be the best father in the world for you."

Also on ao3 (2/?)

Driving through the streets of Los Angeles took more than an eternity and Buck is sure that he exceeded the permitted speed limit several times. His heart was beating so fast that felt as if it would come out through his mouth any second.   A reception desk in green tones appeared in front of his eyes as soon as the elevator doors opened on the 3rd floor of the north tower, and he breathed slowly and deeply, trying to calm himself down as much as possible in the face of this situation.   This bizarre and completely surreal situation.   All of this had to be a huge, ridiculous, joke; and one in bad taste, at that there was no chance that the information he’d been given on the phone was true.   "Excuse me,” he went to the reception desk and a nurse smiled at him. "I'm looking for Taylor Kelly's room"   "Oh dear ...” she replied, her smile immediately fading and the sad look that appeared on her face causing Buck to swallow. "Room 312, in the corridor on the right"   He thanked her and turned down the hall looking for the room. Buck tried to ignore the sadness he’d seen in the receptionist's gaze when he had said who he was here to see and walked at a quick pace until he found the room number. Taking a deep breath once more, he knocked lightly at the door and waited for an answer before opening it. Upon entering the room, he saw a woman dressed elegantly in a black suit, sitting on a sofa just below a large window and in the center of the room a bed where Taylor Kelly was sitting with her back against the headboard and an extremely bored and impatient expression on her face.   "Well ... finally, Buckley."   "Is it true? Did you really give birth to a girl? My daughter?"   "Obviously not, Buckley. I needed a break and I thought a room in the maternity ward was an excellent idea. What do you think, genius?  

"So why didn't you come to me before? Damn, Taylor, you should have told me you were pregnant! I would have helped you and stayed with you all of these months."   "Please, the last thing I would do was look for you, and I definitely wouldn't want you around for months. If I had suspected for a second that this pregnancy was your fault, believe me, I wouldn't have allowed it to get this far.   "I ... shit, Taylor ... what the fuck is all this?!"   "Shit is a good way to describe the fucked mess up that my life has become because of you."   "Because of me? I don't even know what's going on here, Taylor; a woman called me ... your attorney, which I believe is you, right?”He looked quickly at the woman on the couch who just nodded without saying a word.   "And she told me that you just gave birth to a girl and now you blame me, as if I did it on purpose?"   "Damn it, I had everything very well planned, Buckley, everything was perfect and then you came and fucked it up ..."   "I don't understand. What do you mean that you had it all planned out, Taylor? Tell me what's going on here."   "I was dating the owner of the station I work for. I spent three months Buckley, three damn months fucking that unbearable and pathetic old man, acting like I was in love, all so I would get pregnant and guarantee a good future for myself at the station. When that asshole went on vacation with his wife, I wanted to enjoy it; a weekend to go out and have some good sex. Then I see you, and I think "great, I won't even have to bother to seduce anyone” One fucking night, Buckley, that honestly wasn't even as good as I remembered, and you ruined the perfect life that I had planned. "   "Wait a minute, you were having an affair and trying to get pregnant, probably without this guy knowing, just for what? Blackmailing him into a promotion at the station?"   "Obviously, Buck. Or did you think I would want him to marry me? Of course not, what I wanted was to be the anchor of a news program on TV. Something much more important than that shit they gave me after I got out of the traffic news. "   "You are unbelievable... I really can't believe I'm hearing this."   "Oh, I'm so sorry, did you wish I was crying with happiness with the little bundle of joy in my arms? Spare me, Buckley, the last thing I wanted in my life was to have a kid ruin it. That baby was an investment that, thanks to you, didn't work out. "   "But ... we used a condom. Dammit, Taylor, we only had sex once and we used the damn condom. They’re 98% effective!”   "Well ... that 2% came back to bite me in the ass."   "You just said you spent months with that guy, Taylor, how can you be so sure it's mine? It doesn't make any sense."   "Well, to start with, he's black and the baby was born as pale as a ghost, with blue eyes and, I mean, if that wasn't enough, she also inherited that ridiculous birthmark from you. He may be stupid, but not so much that he would believe that the kid was his "   "I can't believe this ... I ... fuck, I have no idea what to do."   "You better figure it out quickly, Buckley, because I don't have much time to lose. Tomorrow, I have a flight to catch and I'd rather die before missing it."   "What do you mean, a flight? Taylor, you can't tell me that you just gave birth to my daughter and then say that you're leaving. I'm not going to let you take my daughter away from me."   "Oh dear, this would be lovely if I wasn't so angry right now. What makes you think I'm going to be taking the girl with me?"   "Wait, what?"   "Listen here, Buckley; it's very simple, so pay attention. This whole baby story may have gone wrong for me, but I wouldn't play all my cards in just one hand. I documented all possible evidence of Scott's affair with me, and thanks to that, I got him to hook me up with a great job in Washington; a direct correspondent at the White House, with a chair and everything. So, I'm leaving tomorrow for my bright future, and this kid definitely has no place in it. "   "You can't be serious, Taylor; this is your daughter."   "Oh no, right now she is just your daughter, and depending on your decision, she might not be that, either."   "What do you mean, my decision ?!"   "Mr. Buckley, if I can?”The woman, who Buck sincerely forgot had been there, got up from the couch and walked to the center of the room with a folder in her hands. “Ms. Taylor contacted me yesterday as soon as the child was born and informed me of what happened. Following her orders, I have in hand a document stating that you and only you are the child's guardian exempting my client from any responsibility or bond to the child and to you. "   "What?"   "If you do not agree to raise the child, we already have contact with two families who would love to adopt her."   "One of them is even in Italy; the farther the better.” Taylor replied, still extremely annoyed and impatient.   "Are you fucking kidding me now? How the hell did you get these documents and two families in less than 24 hours?"   "Money makes everything move faster Buckley, and a friend of mine works with an agency that specializes in adoption. Now, just make up your mind because, as I said, the last thing I have is time and patience."   "Of course, I am going to raise my daughter! Not even for a second would the possibility of not raising her cross my mind."   "Well then, sign the papers and go be a daddy !!"   "Taylor listen to me, you should just calm down and think about this l. I know that now you don't want to be a mother, but in a while, you might regret it and ..."   "My only regret, Buckley, was going to that bar and having sex with you. Although, honestly, when I think about it, maybe I should thank you. After all, being a direct correspondent in the White House is definitely better than being a TV news anchor here in Los Angeles. But don't even think for a second that it means I want to be part of this child's life; any purpose that she could have for me has already been fulfilled, Buckley, and let's leave it at that "   "But, what if you want to be a mother someday ... Taylor, you can change your mind..."   "If I ever decide to become a mother, you can believe me it will be a much better reason than the cliché of maternal instinct, Buckley. Now, please. You made your decision and I’ve made mine. Sign the papers and we will end this conversation."   "You know what, fine, but I want a guarantee that you won't show up sometime in the future and take my daughter away from me. If you want to go that way, then it's forever, without regrets."   "Please, that would never happen."   "So what? Should I just take your word for it?"   "I can draft a document ensuring that it doesn't happen, Mr. Buckley, and I will personally hand it over to you, signed, tomorrow, before Ms. Kelly leaves for DC."   "Great ... everything’s settled and everyone’s happy; now get out of my room, Buckley. I already left all the papers signed regardless of knowing what your choice would be. Although, honestly, I should have imagined it would be this one; you always were extremely needy."   "And you've always been a heartless, unscrupulous bitch. I hope you have a terrible time in DC."   Without saying another word, and not wanting to allow her to respond, Buck strode out of the room and closed the door with a little more force than he should have, then leaned against the wall. His knees felt so weak and shaky that he was afraid of falling to the floor. He closed his eyes and threw his head back against the wall, pulling the air into his lungs as he tried to calm the agitated beating of his heart and the anger that ran through his body while trying to wrap his head around what had just happened.   Fuck ... he had a daughter.   "Mr. Buckley ?"   A soft, low voice came from his side and Buck opened his eyes to see the attorney, who had just closed the door, standing right next to him.   "Olivia Mason, right?"   "Yes, sir"   "Buck ... just ... Buck."   "Okay, Buck. First of all, I would like to say how sorry I am about the whole situation. Despite being Ms. Kelly's attorney, I admit I don't agree with everything that is going on. Having said that, we should be concerned about having you sign all necessary documents to take custody of your daughter. "   "What exactly is in these documents?"   "It says here that Ms. Kelly gave up the child's shared custody, thereby making you solely responsible for any family decisions. A unilateral custody, Buck, with some additions specifying that Ms. Kelly does not wish to be sought out, either by the child or by you, whatever the situation may be. Think of it this way, Buck; Taylor Kelly was just the surrogate for your daughter, and now any decision regarding the child's life must be and will be made only by you. "   "And with the document I asked for, will she also be unable to contact my daughter?"   "Yes; as I said, for all intents and purposes, she was just a surrogate."   "I can't believe that she really said all that."   "I imagine that all of this must come as quite a shock to you ."   "Yeah ... you could say that. Look, I appreciate, what you did and also that you’re going to help keep her out of my life, and if what she’s paying you doesn't cover it, then I’ll guarantee your payment myself and ... "   "Don't worry; I have to confess that when she came to me and specified what she wanted, I made sure that I was charging twice as much as I normally do."   "Well ... she deserves it."   "Why don't you keep these papers and think about everything that happened today, and tomorrow I’ll bring you the other document and have you sign it. Inside the folder is my contact information; send me your address and any questions you may have, and I will be happy to answer them. "   "Thank you .... seriously, just ... thank you."   "You should go and meet your daughter, Mr. Buckley,”she replied, and with a gentle smile walked away down the hall.   She was right. He had a baby to meet.   His daughter was ... beautiful; just the most beautiful thing Buck had seen in his entire life.   Taylor was right, apart from a slight red tone in the blond curls, she was all Buck.   The nurse who had walked him down the hall to the nursery smiled through the glass as she lifted the baby high enough that he could see her even at this distance, and then she nodded and disappeared through a door, with Buck following until he reached a reserved room with a few armchairs. The nurse instructed him to wash his hands and Buck did so immediately.   “This is a breastfeeding room, but it’s rarely used, since we prefer to leave the babies with their parents as long as possible. You can stay here with her for a while; we just fed her with the bottle so it won't take long for her to fall asleep.   She placed the baby in Buck's arms, who took her with the greatest care in the world, arranging the child affectionately and snuggling her against his chest.   "What do you mean a bottle? Taylor didn't have any milk?"   "From what I understand, Mr. Buckley, Ms. Kelly simply decided not to breastfeed her daughter. I'm very sorry; I heard about what happened. I was in the room trying to convince her to breastfeed when she talked to the attorney about the child. "   "I can't believe she didn't even want to breastfeed her daughter. But she's fine, right? Is my daughter healthy?"   "Yes, sir. She's a full 7.5 lb and 18 inches of cuteness. Perfectly healthy and beautiful."   "Yes, she is."   Buck looked at the baby, who opened her eyes to look directly at him with a huge pair of curious blue eyes, which made him immediately fall in love with the girl. He would do anything, would give the world for her without the slightest hesitation.   "I'm going to leave you to sit alone with your daughter. The chairs all have a call button on the side; if you need anything, just press it, and a nurse will come over to help you."   "Thank you."   "There’s no reason to thank me l, Mr. Buckley, I ..."   "Just Buck,” he interrupted her with a smile.   "Buck, right. I'm Emily; it's a pleasure to meet you. I must inform you, though, that the child hasn't been named yet; we haven't even managed to put the mother's last name on the nursery ID. Just the room number."   "Taylor didn't even name the baby? Guess I shouldn't be surprised."   "I am very sorry. Anyway, the baby will be discharged from the nursery tomorrow, and we will need to print the birth certificate. We’ll need a name, and also your personal data, Buck."   "Yes, of course, I ... I don't have a name planned; I didn't even know I needed one until a few minutes ago. Can I take the day to think about it?"   "Of course; as I said, I know the situation and I understand how confusing everything must be at this point. But if you would allow me to be nosy, you seem to have made an extremely important decision that will change your life in a way that you can’t even imagine ... and yet, I didn’t see any fear in your eyes. "   "Well ... I can guarantee that I'm terrified of being a father."   "Oh, I know, all parents always are. This is normal, Buck, but you have the look of someone who is afraid of not being a good father. That’s the first step in becoming an excellent one"   She smiled again and then walked out of the room, leaving Buck alone with the child in his arms.   He walked comically slowly for fear of hurting the child until he sat down in one of the armchairs and then settled her more comfortably in one arm while gently touching her cheek with his finger.   "She was wrong, you know? Your birthmark is beautiful, just like the rest of you. Jesus, girl, you’re going to give me a lot of trouble when you grow up, aren't you? Look at you! You're so beautiful"   He smiled when she grunted, making a face - which Buck definitely thought was a toothless smile - and then she grabbed Buck's finger, making the fireman blink as the tears fell from his eyes and his voice failed him.   “I’m your father. And I already love you so much, little girl. You’ll see, we’ll be fine. I promise I will be the best father in the world for you." 

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When Buck parked his Jeep at his building, he was exhausted. He looked like he had just worked a long shift filled with difficult calls. Getting out of the hospital and leaving his daughter behind was the hardest thing he had had to do in his entire life, but he knew it was necessary. In less than 24 hours, he would have a baby to raise in an apartment that wasn’t prepared in the slightest to receive her. He needed to buy clothes, a crib, and countless other things that a baby needed, Buck, honestly, had no idea what most of those things were.   Which was exactly why he sent a message to the 118 group before having even left the hospital asking everyone to go to his house. He sent separate message to Eddie asking him not to just open his house for everyone but also, for him to text Carla asking her to go too, Because God knows he was going to need all the help he could get. And with the speed at which everything had to be arranged for the arrival of his daughter, the last thing he needed now was to waste time telling people separately, so the best idea was to bring them all together and tell them all at once.   When he opened the door to the loft he was immediately greeted with various exclamations of concern from all his friends, and then a small - yet incredibly strong - Maddie Buckley throwing herself into his arms, hugging him tight enough that he could hardly breathe.   "Evan, thank God! We are all worried after your message. You asked us to come here without explaining anything else!"   "I'm sorry, I should have said something more. I'm fine, Maddie, I swear."   "So ... what happened, Buckaroo,” Athena asked, equally concerned.   "Well ... I have a daughter"   "I'm sorry. You have what now ?!"