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luvlyrv · 3 years

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Our Songs | pt. 6 | Wendy x F!Reader SM!AU

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I hope the word count marginally makes up for the fact this series has been on a three month hiatus lol, don't worry though it'll finish soon!

Date: 6/10/21

Series Masterlist

Ever since you and Wendy exchanged numbers you find your hand unconsciously reaching out to your phone throughout the day. You hope to find a notification from her when you turn it on. Thankfully she always seemed to respond back, but even when she didn't you'd put your phone down to repeat the loop. You tried your best to make sure it didn't interfere with your work, but still, your day was marked by Wendy. Although she wasn't there physically your conversations always carried through day and night.

You've known her to be a warm person, always friendly and comforting. You hope you're not reading into things too much, but sometimes you read her messages and your heart skips a beat. The way she would talk about you would make you flustered. It would force you to put your phone down for a second, unable to comprehend the positivity. Then the thought that maybe she was flirting would creep into your head.

The idea that you're just imagining things always comes back to fight it though.

Shaking your head you decide not to contemplate the idea further. After all she was going to come over soon and you needed to focus on finishing your songs. Thinking about any possible romantic feelings was the last thing you wanted to do. Especially with her in front of you.

Luckily the thoughts dissipate as you zone into the work in front of you, scrutinizing every detail you possibly could. You let yourself sink into the feeling of the songs, letting it help guide your decisions in mixing. As quickly as you get focused though, you're broken out of your zone when you hear knocking on the door. Before answering you run to the mirror and take a quick look while trying to make sure you look presentable. When you rush up to the door to open it you act like nothing happened.

"H-hello! Welcome again to my humble abode!" You say it with a smile, trying to suppress the sudden fluttering feeling in your stomach.

"Hey!" She says while looking up and down at you. "Looks like we're accidentally matching today, huh?" Wendy walks past the door and you close it behind her. You take a moment to look at her outfit and then at yours. The both of you had a very blue color palette.

"Well, way to steal the spotlight. You look way cuter than me." You don't sound as confident as you'd like, your voice bordering on the softer and quieter side. You realize you haven't felt this nervous in a while.

"As if that could ever be possible!" Wendy turns her head back at you as she walks towards your room. She rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue at you, only to quickly smile at your remark. "Now stop being silly and let's work."

You follow her into your bedroom and sit down in front of your computer. She sits on a familiar stool and the two of you immediately start working. You share what you have so far, all you do is record some more vocals, including harmonies and adlibs. You polish things with Wendy by your side to help make some stylistic choices. It took a few hours that only felt like mere minutes.

The sun is still out, unlike the first time the two of you had worked together. This leads you to ask Wendy something before she would leave.

"While we're here we should just record the collab video, yeah?" Wendy's eyes light up in recollection of your previous conversation.

"That sounds good, how about we do the Q&A type video today? I can just message Yeri for some questions."

"Sure, I'll ask Seulgi to make up some interesting things for us to answer too."

The two of you didn't have to wait long as both of your friends replied fast, excited to help out and excited to have some questions answered. You situate yourself next to Wendy in a comfortable position and get the camera ready. After getting the camera in position you take the time to fix the lighting in your room, making sure to have a soft and natural feeling with the lights.

Finally, the red light begins to blink on your camera and you wave. Wendy follows along and flashes the camera a friendly look. You give a quick introduction for the video.

"Hey everybody! I'm here with Wendy today to do a little Q&A type video for you guys! We've both gotten some questions from our friends and it's just to share a little about us, how we feel about our collaboration, behind the scenes type of stuff, you know?" Wendy tilts her head and looks at you as you talk, nodding to your words.

"I really can't wait to answer these questions with you." She says with a smile. She looks back at the camera as she pulls her phone out and looks at her messages with Yeri. "Neither of us have prepared any script or anything. We've barely even looked at the questions they've sent us!" You nudge Wendy with your elbow and laugh at a thought.

"What if they sent us something inappropriate?"

"Oh god, Yeri totally would." You both giggle before Wendy prompts you to start reading questions first.

"Alright we'll stop wasting our audience's precious time now. My dear Seulgi's first question is… "what were your first impressions?" Wendy doesn't hesitate to answer the question as soon as it was asked.

"Oh! Whenever Y/N entered the café we were meeting in I was kind of surprised! She doesn't post a lot of pics of herself so to see someone as talented as her in real life was an honor. She's really cute, right?" She reaches out to pinch the cheek of your so-called cute face. You strain a smile of embarrassment at her antics.

"Yeah yeah, I don't record myself a lot." When she stops her assault on your face you follow-up with your opinion. "For Wendy… I was also really surprised… I think I'm really lucky. You guys should know that a camera really doesn't do her justice! When I first met her she certainly gave off a very approachable demeanor too."

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't know? I was really nervous meeting you, yet when I saw you and when we got to talk the atmosphere turned into something really comfortable fast. Let's just move on to the next question." You take a look at your phone again to see Seulgi's question. "What's your favorite thing about the other? Well, Wendy has always been so sweet, it's been wonderful working with her. I appreciate the care and dedication to her work that she has shown me. Her musicality really helped pull everything together, and when I was stuck she was always there to give me a fresh perspective."

"Aww, that's so sweet of you." Wendy says with a blush on her face, her hand covering her face as she laughs a bit. "It's strange to be talking to you like this, I feel like. I think you're a really straightforward person but we haven't really talked about our opinions to this extent! Especially to a camera. Ah… well I think I could really say everything the same for Y/N." Wendy nods a bit in thought before continuing on. "To add to it though, I think Y/N has just always been so considerate to me. Like, beyond being a great musician she has been a good person to me. I think if you've seen some of our interactions on Twitter you'll know that she ended up cooking a wonderful meal for me on our first meeting. I think that if she wasn't as nice as she is, we wouldn't have had this much fun together… wait, this has been fun for you too, right?"

"Oh my god, yes it has. How could you doubt that?" You punch her arm with a fake upset face. You turn back to the camera. "Guys, we've hung out and have talked soooo much outside of our collab. I literally don't understand how she can have a single doubt in her mind about us having fun."

"It doesn't hurt to clarify! Anyways, next question now! And stop punching so hard!"

"Oh hush, it wasn't that hard. Oh hmm, to go along with that Seulgi wonders what our least favorite thing about each other is."

"That's an easy one!" Wendy says all too excitedly. You make a shocked expression, worry flooding your system as Wendy points at you with a smile. "I hate how you're absolutely brimming with talent! Your work is impeccable! Musical genius!"

You groan as your body crumples. "You nearly gave me a heart attack…" Your voice is muffled between your knees.

"It's true though!" Wendy says in a sing-song voice, her face smug in satisfaction to see your scared reaction. "Otherwise there's nothing I can really say."

You gather the strength to get back up and face the camera, then Wendy. Your face is still filled with disappointment but you take your time to stare at Wendy. As you stare at her she seems to come undone as she nervously looks away.

"What are you doing?" A red color subtly creeps up her neck.

"I'm just thinking. I'm thinking that… You also have nothing wrong with you." Wendy can't help but to roll her eyes at your comment. "Except for being awfully cheesy. It makes me wanna go bury myself in a ditch so I won't have to hear your stupid cheesiness again."

"Whatever, whatever. It's my turn to read the questions. Now… this is a good one, "what has the work process been like?"

"Well that's obvious, I do all the work and Wendy leeches off of me like a parasite."

"Hey! Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it to the world!" Her response throws you into a fit of laughter, turning you into a mess.

"Oh my, no no! It's really not like that. I would say we have an equal workload, or a workload that makes sense between our respective positions." Wendy shakes her head in disagreement.

"I don't feel so. I feel like Y/N always does so much work, and she does it so quickly too. It makes me feel kind of bad when I sit beside her and see her work her magic. When she's focused and working so hard it's quite amazing."

"Ah geez." You shyly scratch the back of your neck. "Wendy's always like this, complimenting me. Like I said earlier though, she really helps bring me new perspective when I'm stuck and her musicality is like nothing else. She always takes the time to sit next to me and monitor things too. It's not like she's a third party to the process. Not only that," You take the time to send Wendy a smile in an attempt to reassure her that you're not burdened with work. You want her to know that you appreciate her part of the creative process, "but nothing really feels like hard work when I'm with you."

Wendy has a hard time processing your words, so instead of addressing it she decides to just further elaborate her answer to the question.

"Well, I'll just lay down the process for everyone. Obviously, Y/N produces and I sing. Although after enough convincing from me you'll hear her singing on the tracks as well, so say thank you! It all started when Y/N took the time to reach out to me, which I was really excited about by the way, and then we both agreed to meet up at a local place. We just talked about concepts and our availability. We both ended up writing songs and worked together on what we wanted to keep or change. Everything productive happens here," Wendy opens her arms to gesture to the area around her, "at Y/N's place. Even though I have audio equipment at my place too we just record things here."

"Yeah, everything she said is true. I have a little set-up here in my room. I don't think I've ever really shown you guys it? I mean, I've shown my guitar collection before but not all my other equipment yet. I'll film that another time though. Next question?"

"Oh this is kind of interesting to think about, "what do you think the reception of your mini-album will be?" The both of you take a moment to think about it. Recalling many of the things you've read on social media you decided to speak first.

"Well, I think it'll be extremely beneficial to the both of us in multiple ways. I mean first off, I guess by our genre of music we have a lot of overlap between fans. There's been an overwhelming amount of support from fans who are excited to see the both of us collaborate and interact. I have no doubt that it'll do well since it's so highly anticipated by our fans. It'll be even better if you guys manage to stream and share it!" Throughout your explanation you begin to give Wendy shy glances. "I think that even if we drop our music and it doesn't meet much success, I would've gained a lot. I think working together with Wendy has helped me grow as a musician and anything that I learn here I will utilize in the future."

At your last comment Wendy seemed to get excited and she quickly added on.

"Exactly! If anything the most important part about all of this is the fact that I have gained skills as a musician and gained a friend. That greatly outweighs any potential of success." Wendy has a bright smile on her face, happy to be able to call you a friend.

"That doesn't mean we don't want you guys to go ahead and share our music by the way." You joke light-heartedly. "It would mean a lot if you did."

"Now final question for this video! We've been talking too much." Wendy looks at her phone, unlike before she takes a couple seconds before reading the question aloud. "Uh, I think this should be fun to answer. "What do you want to do in the future together?" I think that obvious answer is to make more music!"

You chuckle at her answer before responding as well. "Going to each other's places to have a jam session doesn't sound bad, but hanging out in general is good. We'll definitely continue being friends, and if the reception for our collab is really good we might do another one? That is, of course, if Wendy is okay with that."

"I would be more than happy to do that. I was also thinking of forcing you to binge watch more shows and movies with me."

"Only if you stop hogging the popcorn. Anyways, I think this should be the end of our video. I highly encourage all of you to check-out Wendy's channel in a couple days. The day right before release we're going to be dropping one more video together! Bye-bye!" You wave a goodbye to the camera with a smile. Wendy joins you in your outro.

"See you guys soon!"

You go to turn your camera off as Wendy goes to gather her things. After turning off your lights you go to sit back down on your seat, importing the recently filmed footage to your computer. Wendy takes this moment to sit down next to you again.

"Again, thank you for your hard work!" She says it with a smile as she brings her hand on your arm. "I'm always amazed with the quality of your work and how quickly you can do it."

"No problem, I'll send the songs to you later for your feedback. We'll be able to post everything soon." You smile back at her and give her hand a comforting squeeze. A part of you wishes you could keep your hand there forever.

"Alright, well see you at my place soon!"

When you finally hear the click of your door closing you let out a sigh. You don't want to think about it. You don't want to face it.

You don't want to face the possibility that you've fallen.

#wendy x reader #son seungwan #rv x reader #red velvet imagines #red velvet scenarios #kpop au #kpop imagines #son seungwan x reader #rv wendy #girl group imaines #girl group scenarios #social media au #red velvet

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werejusttouchingeachother · 4 years

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Whipped

(d.ksoo)

Req: fluff + smut with Kyungsoo by @johnniverse Pairing: actor!Kyungsoo x baker!reader Words: 10,609k Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, smut Warning: cursing, smut, mature Summary: Your close friendship with Korea’s favourite actor is suddenly strained when he begins acting strange after returning home. Three nights of disappointment and several drinks later, the memory of a rhubarb Eton mess lingers in the air as you find yourself finally seeing your best friend in a different light. Tags: actor!Soo, slightly chef!Soo, baker!reader, cursing, flirting, sexual tension and fluffy smut A/N: To the req, I hope you like it and it isnt too cringy lol, I always struggle with fluff. Also P.S, I’m never doing the fake texting image thing ever again, I had to use both my phone and laptop to edit/upload the pics in order and it was a pain in the ass especially for a fic this long (and on a side-note, props to all the text-message fic authors, this sHIT IS HARD JFC SERIOUSLY Y’ALL ARE AMAZING AND DEDICATED AF, I APPRECIATE THE EFFORT)

The smell of butter and dough that surrounded you usually helped calm your nerves but tonight could perhaps be the first time that was an exception. After all, it had been months since you last saw your best friend, Kyungsoo.

There weren’t many people around at this late hour of the night and you were thankful for the silence, for the peaceful atmosphere that was usually a rare occurrence at the bakery’s kitchen. Only when your nerves had crept into your worried thoughts as the silence prolonged had you finally scrolling to the playlist of soft instrumentals that you usually had playing at the bakery during work hours, letting the music fill the empty kitchen while you worked.

You hum softly to Billie Eilish and Khalid’s ‘lovely' as you place the tiny specks of edible gold foil atop the chocolate tart. Kyungsoo didn’t love the gold foil—he called it “too bougie”—but you knew that he didn’t hate it either. Besides, you couldn’t help the dramatic flair that you always brought to your desserts; it was what you were popular for, after all.

You’d met Kyungsoo as a customer at your artisan café almost three years ago when he’d dropped by late in the night to ask for a full-sized cake. You’d heard your co-worker Yixing apologetically inform him that there weren’t any such cakes readily available just a few minutes short to closing hours and that customers usually pre-ordered them in advance but you’d stepped out of the back-kitchen then to ask the desperate-sounding customer whether a red velvet cheesecake was fine with him.

You can still recall how you’d stumbled over your own words as your eyes finally fell on the late-night customer—Do Kyungsoo, the upcoming handsome actor who had swept over the nation with his popularity after his latest movie. Your first thought had immediately been, ‘Holy hell, he looks more beautiful than he does on the screen’.

It was only much later that you’d revealed to him that the original recipient of the cake was a little girl turning eight the next day. Kyungsoo had been stunned at the revelation and even to the present day, he still wondered why you hadn’t turned him away to find another bakery instead of going to the hassle of giving away a pre-baked cake that resulted in you pulling an all-nighter to bake another for the actual customer.

But how could you have refused? With his warm earnest brown eyes that reminded you of the pools of dark chocolate batter that you’d been whisking back in the kitchen, his cheeks that shone like freshly glazed pastries with the sheepish heart-shaped smile that put even the sun to shame, you couldn’t help but relent and give him the red velvet cheesecake that you’d been preparing for a client to pick up the next morning.

Although Kyungsoo had left in a hurry after accepting the box that night, he had visited the bakery around brunch hour the next day to thank you personally—and “properly”. Both of you had introduced yourselves and you’d been surprised at how down-to-earth and friendly he’d been, taken aback by his genuine interest in your bakery and all the desserts that you’d had. After conversing, there grew a mutual admiration—you’d never imagined that such a famous actor was also an incredible cook with an intense passion for food while having such an avid interest and genuine fascination towards your baking.

It had been the initial blossoming of a beautiful delectable friendship. You’d never thought you’d grow as close to him as you did but there was an instant connection after that first conversation at the kitchen of your bakery, a way in which both your personalities perfectly complemented each other and fit together just right. Of course, your mutual interest for food only fuelled the friendship further.

That was three years ago. Back then, it had started as a friendship but slowly bloomed to an unhealthy crush on your part. And who could blame you? Kyungsoo was unbelievably perfect—with his charming smile, his friendly and kind nature, his heart of gold and just by being an absolute sweetheart, you struggled to keep your emotions at bay as you got closer to him. He set the standard entirely too high and there was a small part of you that even blamed him for never being able to find a boyfriend. Every blind date and man that your friends introduced you to all paled in comparison to Kyungsoo, multiple meals and walks spent with them feeling extremely dreary when you spent the entire time drawing analyses of them in your mind based off of Kyungsoo as the yardstick.

However, it was a secret that you were certain you’d carry to your grave. He already had hordes of fangirls and half the country pining for him, he didn’t need to worry about you shooting heart-eyes at him too.

Besides, you cherished your relationship with Kyungsoo entirely far too much to risk losing all of it with a silly confession. You were close with his mother who called you more often than she even called him sometimes to chat with you idly about recipes, you knew how he hated parsley a lot more than he let on, how he’d admitted that your lemon meringue pies were his favourite dessert in the entire world and how he hated early morning shoots the most and could never get used to them no matter how many times he did it.

It wasn’t one-sided—he knew you like the back of his hand too. Kyungsoo knew about your coffee addiction that he always called unhealthy, how much you loved crafting recipes in your kitchen late into the night until you got it perfect, how you absolutely hated thunderstorms and could even tell whenever you were upset even from a mere text, prompting him to call you as soon as he could to talk about it.

It was too much to risk such a great friendship for a stupid crush. He meant too much to you which is exactly why you’d settled for never ever confessing to him.

You hum softly as you finally pulled your face away from the table, a satisfied smile coming upon your face as the finished tart lay atop the marble counter, gold flecks glinting in the yellow lights of the kitchen.

You picked up your phone then, frowning as you noticed the lack of texts. Kyungsoo had finally completed the premiere and tour for his latest movie, arriving back home early today morning for a well-deserved break, albeit short. You knew that his friends would most probably throw him a party—as per their tradition—but he’d texted you earlier that he would definitely drop by the bakery around midnight, at the latest.

Which was your tradition. He’d visit his mother, have a meal with his parents and then come straight to you, loudly yelling that you’d better have his favourite pies waiting for him, “or else”.

You stare at your phone, contemplating if you should send a picture of the tart and fully utilise his weakness for sweet treats against him but the screen suddenly lights up with an incoming message.

You sigh as you place your phone back on the counter and glance dejectedly down at the tarts. Pursuing your lips, you wondered if there was something wrong and if Kyungsoo was okay—it was the first time that he’d cancelled on your tradition of meeting you on the day that he got back itself.

He’s at home, probably well-fed, pampered and completely spoiled rotten by his mother so you decided to not dwell further on it. You place the tarts into airtight containers and placed them in the fridge then, yawning softly as you decided to call it a day and head home.

You were positive that you could see the colour red as you glanced at the clock hanging over the paintings on your wall, feeling more livid than you’d ever been.

It had been three days. Three days since Kyungsoo had arrived and your stupid “tradition” was in shreds—the both of you hadn’t met at all.

The day after the night he spent at his parents’ place, you waited for him all morning at the bakery before texting him. He’d called you immediately and apologised profusely, saying that he had to meet his manager at the company and that something urgent had come up. You’d let it go again but he hadn’t contacted you at all after that and you’d waited all day until finally calling him right before bed.

The conversation had been short, his words muted and seeming tired so you’d hung up without pressing too much.

But then you’d went over directly to his parents’ place yesterday. You’d been stunned to find that he wasn’t there, his mother cheerfully mentioning that he had left early in the morning “because of some work” and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’d lost your appetite. After stuffing yourself full with an entire lunch that his mother had not let you leave without, you’d called him. He’d apologised again, “another work thing” and finally ended the call after mutually agreeing that he’d come over to your place early the next morning, eat breakfast with him and heading back to the bakery later in the afternoon.

It was the next morning, the pancakes you’d made were cold and soggy now, the clock read 10:19AM and Kyungsoo was nowhere in sight.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” you hissed murderously, grabbing your phone and pulling up your messages to text him.

You shoved your phone away in fury, grabbing the plate of pancakes and hurriedly storing them back in the oven before grabbing the keys to your car and heading out of your apartment. You had half-a-mind to drive over to the company and ask his manager which goddamn hotel he was staying at before taking a deep breath, muttering a string of curses lowly to clear your head and pulling out of the parking space.

The entire day was a mess. Chanyeol, your commis baker, was surprised to see you head in earlier than you said you would, all of the kitchen crew and bakers flinching as you glared and yelled at them to get their shit together. You busied yourself in the kitchen, feeling Johnny’s wary eyes on you as you punched the dough like a possessed madwoman. Perhaps you weren't as good at masking your emotions as you thought you were, the entire staff catching onto the fact that their usually-cheerful patisserie chef was perhaps not seeing dough for fresh bread but instead visualising the mochi cheeks of the man whom Korea had lovingly dubbed as the actor with the most perfect heart-shaped smile.

Perfect, my ass, you thought derisively.

The day passed in phases. By 4PM, you’d baked way more puff pastries than necessary, waving off Chanyeol who meekly suggested to stop making so many since there was already a piling excess which would most probably be wasted if not sold by tonight. You told them all to just take some home, that there were your treat and involuntarily, your hands started to slow down as evening dawned, your upper arms beginning to ache slightly because you didn’t pace yourself in your rage.

You sighed as you headed to the back of the kitchen, walking through the smaller door that was alongside the pantry—a smaller space that was solely for you, a place that you lovingly called your own and was the birth of many of your sweet creations.

The anger shifted to the second phase in the evening, one that infuriated you more because at least you were productive with your fury. Now, you just slumped at the marble countertop while staring at the small fridge in the corner that still held the gold-leafed chocolate tart from two nights ago.

You sighed as you buried your face in your flour-stained palms. This has never happened and it was stressing you out in levels that you had never expected it to—because you’d never had a fight with Kyungsoo. Petty arguments, sure, but nothing that couldn’t be solved with his spaghetti or your macaroons.

Then again, he’d never been like this. Never had he avoided you, never had he cancelled multiple times on you repeatedly, never had he broke the sacred tradition of meeting you as soon as he was back. It had been too many times now to be a mere coincidence, he was definitely avoiding you. You could tell that he was lying and your anger from today morning had subsided to just an intense worry that felt like cramps in your lower abdomen, sighs falling from your lips as you wondered what was wrong.

You thought about calling his mother for a brief moment but you could already guess that she was just as oblivious as you, maybe even more. She hadn’t seemed fazed when you’d went over yesterday, hadn’t noticed the distress on your face as you realised that you’d missed him yet again.

The rest of the day seemed to drag on forever. Your limbs were sore and you knew your bed would be nothing short of welcoming right now but you didn’t want to go back home in a state like this where your thoughts would be louder than ever.

Around 9PM, you decided to call it a day and closed up early. You could see the relief in everyone’s faces, especially Chanyeol who looked like he wanted nothing more than to go home and pass out. Once the entire crew had left the bakery with a box of all your rage-fuelled treats—Chanyeol had been right, there had been way too many puff pastries, cake pops and enough cookies for the entire neighbourhood—you sat alone in your workspace with nothing but silence echoing around you.

Sighing softly, you stood up and connected your phone to the small Bluetooth speakers placed at the corner of the room, putting on your Coldplay playlist. You washed your hands in the sink before setting out to make the lemon meringue pie.

There was a reason why Kyungsoo loved it the most amongst every other dessert you made—it was your go-to dessert whenever you were upset. Although the recipe wasn’t challenging nor was it particularly difficult to make, it does require a lot of patience and dedication to get a flawless pie every time. Kyungsoo loved watching you create it; you’d lost count of the number of times he’d walked in to see you furiously whipping the cream filling for the pie. The amount of concentration it took at each step usually helped calm your nerves, distracting your noisy thoughts enough to focus on the dessert at hand.

Initially, you’d thought he called it his favourite only because he’d seen first-hand how much effort it took to bake it but then Kyungsoo had explained that he could taste the effort, that the tarty tanginess of the lemon filling which would first wash over his tongue slowly morphs into the subtle sweet aftertaste of the creamy meringue which was addicting enough to make you crave for more.

There was a small part of you that didn’t believe him when he’d said that and an even smaller part that had been too flattered to believe it, unable to even form a coherent response to it but baking the pie now made your chest ache as it occurred to you that it’d probably join the tarts in the fridge from two nights ago.

The lemon meringue pies tasted best when eaten immediately and he knew it—which was exactly why he often sat around to watch you make it.

You decided not to dwell on it. Once you were done with the pie, you’d call him one last time to ask if he could meet you wherever possible tonight itself. You’d use the pies as an extra leverage, perhaps as a ruse to just lure him out. Just so you could yell at him for being an idiot right at his face instead of at the phone.

You’d just lined the pastry base into the pan and chilled it for an hour before baking it in the oven while you whisked the lemon filling. The humming of the oven had involuntarily made your shoulders loosen up as you lost yourself in making the lemon filling and you were softly singing along to Yellow as it echoed around the small kitchen space.

The song suddenly stopped and your hands froze reflexively as you turned around to see your phone lighting up with an incoming call.

‘satansoo😈💕’

You dropped the whisk immediately and grabbed the dishcloth, wiping your hands hastily as you strode around the counter. You threw the cloth aside, hands still feeling slightly sticky as you grabbed your phone and disconnected the Bluetooth connection.

Your voice was slightly breathless as you finally answered, “Soo? Hello? Kyungsoo?”

There was dull music faintly thumping in the background but at a distance, as if muted. You frowned as the pause on the other side of the call lasted for almost three seconds before finally hearing an unfamiliar male voice.

“Hello? Y/N? Is this Y/N?”

“Yes, yes, it’s me,” you said loudly, furrowing your eyebrows as you felt a sense of dread creep into you. “Who is this? Where’s—?”

“You were the first on his emergency contact list,” the man interrupted, making your heart drop to your feet.

“What’s going on?” You asked hurriedly in a panic, your eyes widening as you felt your stomach twist. “Where’s Kyungsoo? Is he okay?”

“Ma’am, my name is Woo Shik and I’m the bartender at Club Exodus. Your friend is really really drunk,” the man replied, sounding slightly exasperated. “He came in around 7PM and got a room alone although we told him that he can’t do that singly but he insisted and said he’d even pay more for it. And now-now he’s just really drunk. He’s been yelling your name for the past half hour and crying something about rhu.. rhu something? Itaewon mess?”

“Rhubarb Eton mess,” you deadpanned, sighing. “I’m… I’ll be there as soon as I can. Could you just text me the address of the club, to this number?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll send the location right now.”

“Okay, thank you, I’ll be there.”

You hang up quickly and your limbs feel like they’re frozen, uncoordinated from your brain as you will yourself to move. You feel disoriented, a thousand thoughts flying through your head as you quickly pull off your messy apron and grab your phone. You don’t bother fixing yourself much, knowing that you probably smelled like fresh dough and lemons as you hurriedly shut off the oven. You pause as you notice the halfway baked pie shell, wondering if you should call Chanyeol and ask him if he could clean up in here as a favour.

The large grandfather clock in the main lounge area of the bakery suddenly sounded, echoing softly in the back-kitchen and you glanced down at your phone.

10PM.

He’s been drinking by himself for three hours.

“Fuck it,” you mutter, snatching the oven mitts and not even bothering to put it on as you use it just to shield your hand whilst grabbing the hot pie tray.

Your legs seem to move faster than your brain then, your body moving almost robotically as you threw the half-whisked lemon filling in its large glass bowl, the pastry shell and the cream for the meringue into the small fridge. It only held a few failed recipes and a couple of disfigured-looking pastries that you usually snacked on, along with Soo’s dark chocolate gold tart from two nights ago that you hadn’t had the heart to throw away, having expected him to walk into the bakery at some godforsaken hour and claim the dessert.

You felt a slight ache now as you stashed everything into the fridge, knowing how many ingredients that you’d just wasted because there was no way even you could resurrect or save this disaster after leaving this kitchen now.

Knowing that there was no time to regret it, you quickly cleaned up the counters and the rest of the workspace, grabbing your car keys and the lock to the bakery. You closed up the store and hurriedly got into the car, pulling up the location that the bartender had just sent you as you started driving to the club.

Your worry finally had a chance to fully materialise through the drive, your anxiety not allowing you to even play the radio as you raced to Club Exodus. It briefly occurred to you that there probably was a huge problem, something big that was worrying Kyungsoo if he was willing to go to the extent of booking a hotel room away from his parents and even avoiding you.

If there was anyone besides his mother who could read and see through him as well as she did, it was you.

God, Kyungsoo, what is going on?

You pulled up to the front of the club in almost half an hour, quickly jumping out and hurriedly gesturing to the car at the valet service guy standing at the entrance before heading in.

You approached the woman at the reception, your voice low as you asked, “I’m looking for Woo Shik? He’s with a friend of mine…”

“Oh yes, ma’am, hold on.” You weren’t even looking around the place, your senses almost numbed with tension as you followed the uniformed man to whom she gestured, one step behind him as he lead you away from what sounded like the main hall with its booming music that you could feel reverberating through the walls.

He showed you to a door and you could already hear Kyungsoo’s deep laughter even before entering. You pushed open the door and your eyes immediately fell on your best friend, his cheeks appearing redder than you’d ever seen them as he laid back on the black leather couches. A man in the dark burgundy uniform of the club who you assumed to be Woo Shik was trying to clear the table alongside the couch in a desperate attempt to save the bottles and glasses of alcohol from falling onto the floor.

“Kyungsoo,” you said flatly and Woo Shik looked up from the couch towards you, wide eyes filled with exasperation.

“Y/N?” He asked hopefully and you nodded, sighing.

“Did he drink more after we called?” You asked, stepping into the room fully and scrunching your nose in disgust at the way the place was reeking with alcohol.

“No, but he’d been chugging for a while and they’re all settling in now, I think,” Woo Shik explained tiredly, stepping away to let you walk around the table towards your drunk best friend.

You forgot what to even say as you looked at Kyungsoo who was giggling giddily on the couch, his eyes closed as his hands flailed mindlessly. He looked almost smaller in the way that he was curled up on the leather seats and you could see that he’d grown thinner since the last time you’d seen him. His cheeks were very flushed and that’s when you realised that this was the first time you’d seen him so shit-faced drunk. Of the both of you, he was the one with the higher tolerance and he’d seen you blackout drunk more times than you’d seen him in the past three years and it occurred to you that he must have definitely had way too much than usual tonight to be like this.

“Soo,” you heard yourself mumble, your hands reaching for his that were still blindly reaching for something in the air. His eyes snap open when he feels your hands clasp around his, dark shining gaze shifting towards you. You watch as his eyes widen and even before you can react, his grip tightens fiercely around your hand as he yanks you to him with a high-pitched squeal of your name.

You curse as you almost collapse on top of him on the couch, feeling his body beneath yours that was radiating so much warmth that you would have mistaken him to have a fever if it weren’t for all the alcohol lying around.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiii,” Kyungsoo slurred, smiling happily up at you as he wrapped his arms snugly around your middle while staring down at you. You felt your heart slightly melt at his elated expression, your anger and worry momentarily dissipating as you gazed back into his shining eyes.

“Hi,” you replied softly, feeling almost shy from the way he was looking at you as you realised that Woo Shik was still in the room and probably waiting for you to collect the mess that you had in your arms who had caused him enough trouble.

“Okay, can you sit up?” You ask slowly like you’re talking to a child as you pull away enough to help him sit upright. He’s still gripping one of your hands tightly and you let him use your other arm as a support to pull him upwards slowly so as not to make him dizzy.

You look up at Woo Shik then, your tone apologetic as you ask, “How much is all of this?”

“He already paid, ma’am,” Woo Shik replied, shaking his head at you.

“Okay, I’ll just take him away then, I’m so sorry for the trouble,” You quickly say as you grab Kyungsoo’s arm and throw it around your neck. You put your own arm around his waist, holding him to your side while trying not to inhale the alcohol-stench reeking off of him. Woo Shik offers help but you shake your head at him as you help Kyungsoo out of the club. He suggests the back entrance then, mentioning that it’d be safer because of his actor status and quickly hurries to tell the valet to bring your car.

You manage, with much difficulty, to finally seat Kyungsoo inside your car and strap him in safely. Once he is settled, you sincerely thank Woo Shik for all his help and make a mental note to send him some treats tomorrow and finally get back into your car. After driving away from the club, you slow down at a secluded alley and turn to Kyungsoo whose head is turned to face the window.

You gently shake his shoulder, wondering if he’s asleep as you softly call out, “Soo? Kyungsoo?”

His eyes blink open slowly and he turns to you, appearing almost woozy. You watch then as his eyes widen and the same elated expression from earlier washes over his face, his arms reaching out to wrap tightly around your frame as he again exclaims, “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii.”

“Yeah, yeah, hi, hi,” you mutter, rolling your eyes in exasperation as you try to pull away from his death-grip. Any other time, you’d have been taking videos of him like this to use as precious blackmail later.

“Soo,” you call out his name again as you try to get his attention on you. Once he is blinking at you while still grinning like an idiot, you enunciate slowly, “Your hotel. Where is it? Which hotel are you staying at?”

Kyungsoo blinks incomprehensibly and you see his grin widen, mouth opening excitedly to squeal your name again and you manage to grab his arms, stopping him from hugging you yet again.

“Kyungsoo!” You call out loudly, watching him flinch and you instantly lower your tone as you slump back in your seat while staring at him helplessly. There was no way you could take him back to his parents’ place when he was like this and you knew that his mother didn’t know the hotel that he was staying at either since she hadn’t mentioned it the last time.

Sighing, you turn with resignation towards the steering wheel and start up the car again, deciding to just take him home.

It wasn’t like he’d never been to your place before—he’d slept over on your couch multiple times but this would be the first time that he’d be doing it when absolutely wasted.

Kyungsoo hums softly beneath his breath as you drive and you’re quiet, listening to him as you chew on your lip nervously while wondering if you should talk to him. You knew he was drunk as hell and by the state that he was in, you guessed that his chances of remembering any of this tomorrow morning would probably be extremely low.

You decided to risk it.

“Soo,” you started tentatively and you were surprised when the humming stopped, knowing his attention was on you. You clear your throat before asking slowly, “Why didn’t you meet me?”

He frowns and you can hear the pout in his voice as he slurs, “Because you’re an idiot.”

You turn to look at him in amazement, eyes wide at the stupid response. “What?”

You turn back to the road as he continues, “It’s true. My mother says so too.”

“Your-your mother?” You sputtered, feeling more confused by the second. What the hell is he talking about? “She said not to meet me because I’m an idiot?”

“Nooooooooo,” Kyungsoo whined and you noticed him shift in his seat slightly from your peripheral as he explained, “I decided not to meet you. Mom told me that I’m an idiot. I think you’re the idiot but Mom says it’s me.”

You should just pull over and leave him on the roadside.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain calm as you reminded yourself to treat him like a child. He is a child and you need information so you tried again, slowly asking, “Why are we idiots?”

There’s a pause then and Kyungsoo mumbles something in reply, incoherent again.

You slow to a stop at the red light as you turn to face him fully now, squinting at him. “What? Why are we idiots, Kyungsoo?”

“Because I like you,” Kyungsoo sighs loudly and your eyes widen then, heart jumping to your throat.

Everything freezes around you and you stare at him, certain that you’d heard wrong as he leans back against the headrest, sighing dramatically again as he softly explains, “I’ve liked you for a long time but you’re an idiot to never see it. Mom told me I’m the idiot for never telling you but you’re the idiot for never seeing the signs.”

“S-signs?” You repeated, your voice cracking in your throat. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you ask quietly, “What signs?”

Kyungsoo sighs again, longer this time and you’re almost tempted to grab him by his shoulders and shake him angrily to get him to speak faster. You felt like you were going to be sick and this idiot was putting on the show of his life, acting dramatically like his rent was due the next morning.

“Sooooooo many signs, Y/N,” he slurs your name, dragging his words tiredly as he turns to you. He faces you and pouts childishly as he asks, “You think I run to all my friends’ arms whenever I come home on break? You think I cook with parsley which I hate with all my heart for anyone else? It’s only for you, because of how much you love it on your spaghetti. Most of my friends don’t even know I cook. I never even had a thing for sweets until you and I told you that but you’re an idiot. You thought its cause I love everything you make that much but that’s only a part of it. You idiot.”

You stare at him speechlessly and jump when you hear a loud honk behind you. Dazed, you look ahead and realise the traffic lights had changed to green, slowly prompting you to shift the gear and start driving again as the cars continued honking noisily behind.

You swallowed loudly, hearing an internal screaming in your head as you tried to gather your thoughts and process the words you’d just heard. You’re about to ask more, you don’t even know what, when you hear him murmuring softly again. You catch the word ‘rhubarb’ and start to ask why he kept ranting about your Rhubarb Eton mess custard and that’s when it suddenly hits you.

The last time that he’d come home for break, the time that he’d spent with you before leaving for the movie that he’d just finished shooting, you’d made him the Rhubarb Eton mess custard. The call to travel to Japan had been abrupt, causing him to have to leave on short notice and he’d spent the night before his flight with you at the bakery. It was after working hours, close to midnight and you’d been experimenting and crafting desserts with rhubarbs since they were in-season and had whipped up the Rhubarb Eton mess custard quickly just for him.

He’d watched you in his usual seat opposite the counter as you made it and after having his first spoon, he’d scooped a spoonful of the creamy custard and fed it to you. After taking the bite, however, the blood-red juice of the rhubarb had stained your lips with a bit of the whipped cream at the edge of your mouth.

Kyungsoo had reached out almost reflexively, his thumb swiping against your lip and you’d gone still, both of your gazes locking as you’d felt the atmosphere shift. You thought it had only been in your head, that it had only been you wondering what the expression on his face would be if you leaned forward and sucked the cream from his thumb, if his eyes would dilate watching your lips wrap around his digit the way that you were sure your eyes had when his hand had reached towards your mouth.

You could still recall how terse the silence had been then, both of you in a silent stare-off as you waited for the other to make a move and Kyungsoo had finally broken the moment by retrieving his hand, flashing you an innocent grin as he licked the cream from his thumb and quietly finished the rest of the dessert.

Your heart had been hammering in your chest that whole night and you’d never even known.

“Oh god,” you breathed out involuntarily as understanding finally dawned over you. Kyungsoo had been humming beside you again but at your words, he went quiet and you continued, “The rhubarb custard. You’re talking about—”

Kyungsoo groaned loudly then, confirming your suspicions as he huffed in annoyance.

“I wanted to kiss you so bad that night,” he almost whined and you felt your cheeks reddening at his confession as he continues ranting, “You were just standing there with your lips looking all glossy and red from the syrup and that stupid whipped cream on your upper lip! I was already upset cause I had to leave you so soon and you were just standing there like an idiot and I just wanted to eat you instead of that damn custard.”

Holy fucking hell. “Kyung—”

“I’ve been whipped for you forever, Y/N,” Kyungsoo admitted, shutting you up abruptly. “I’m whipped for you like your whipped cream. Like your Eton mess. Like your perfect custard. Like your pies. Like—”

“Okay, okay, I get it, I get it,” you quickly interrupt him, desperately wanting him to shut up because you were certain that you’d cause an accident with the way your heart was pounding right now, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as your thoughts were disorienting. You were driving mindlessly, taking longer routes because you didn’t how much longer this conversation would go, if it would last all the way to your apartment or if he’d sober up once he got home. You felt like you were dreaming, like this conversation was unreal and wondered briefly if you’d gotten drunk with him too back at the club and this was just some cruel dream.

“Why…” you croak and you clear your throat before trying again. “Why didn’t you meet me?”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“I swear to god, I’m going to—” You loudly inhale through your mouth, knuckles almost turning white around the steering wheel as you grit out, “Did. You. Avoid. Me. Because you like me?”

“Min Ah…”

He trailed off and you frowned in confusion, pausing as you faintly recognised the name. “‘Min Ah’? Jung Min Ah? Isn’t that your co-star for the movie you just did?”

Kyungsoo nods and he mumbles sleepily, “She said she likes me during the wrap-up party but I could only think of you. I didn’t want to see you until I got my shit together and sorted out my feelings because I didn’t want to accidentally confess to you.” He pauses then and you’re surprised when he lets out a loud humourless laugh. “Maybe I am the idiot.”

You hesitate before asking, “Why don’t you want to confess to me?”

Kyungsoo is quiet for a while after that and you glance at him, wondering if he’d fallen asleep but he appears to be deep in thought. His words are almost unheard as he finally mumbles, “Because I don’t want to lose you.”

You fall silent at his heavy words, the intensity of the underlying meaning getting to you as you feel something break inside of you.

You don’t say anything for the rest of the ride then and Kyungsoo dozes off, falling asleep cutely with his mouth hanging open as he lays his head back against the seat while you drown in your thoughts.

Regardless of your feelings and how much you liked him too, the words that Kyungsoo had just uttered terrified you. Friendships were stable, they endured even the ugliest of fights and lasted longer while relationships were fragile; one slip and you could lose Kyungsoo. He didn’t confess to you because he didn’t know about your feelings but now that you knew that he felt the same, you didn’t know if you were brave enough to take the risk.

It could be the end to something beautiful.

But it could also be the beginning to something more beautiful, a small voice in your head reminded you.

Or it could be the beginning to something even more beautiful that would soon reach its untimely but inevitable end and leave you with only heartache and the absence of a best friend that you’d have to burden forever.

You sighed softly as you finally parked your car in front of your apartment. You glanced at Kyungsoo and realised he was sleeping soundly, looking so warm and comfortable that it made you hesitate in awakening him. You got out of the car and walked to his side, throwing his arm around your shoulder while softly calling his name. He woke up enough to step out of the car and you helped him up to your apartment, panting by the time you finally reached your door.

You lead him straight to your bedroom, resigning to spend the night on your couch since you knew he could definitely use the entire bed in the state that he was in. You help him out of the thickly-lined trench coat that he was wearing, holding your breath to not inhale the stench of the alcohol as you decided to just throw them all with the laundry tomorrow morning.

You remove his shoes and pull off his socks but your hands hesitate mid-air before reaching for his pants. It’s not like you hadn’t seen his legs before or anything—god knows he’d helped undress you from uncomfortable clothes on multiple nights when you’d gotten too drunk—but your stomach was twisting now as if he was a whole new person who you were stripping.

God, stop overthinking it.

You force yourself to help him out of his pants, purposefully not letting your eyes go astray as you decided to leave him in the thin black sweater that he was wearing and his boxers. You grabbed your blankets and tucked it around him, smiling slightly when you notice Kyungsoo immediately snuggle to the warm sheets like a child, making himself comfortable as he closed his eyes.

You went to the kitchen then, grabbing a tall glass of water and some aspirin pills before heading back to your room. You’d just placed them on the small bedside table and was turning to leave when you felt a fierce grip on your wrist.

Your breath stopped in your throat as you looked down to see Kyungsoo holding onto you, half-lidded eyes gazing up at you as he whispered one word.

“Stay.”

You step towards the bed then, getting on your knees on the floor so that your face would be at the same level as his. You raised the hand that he wasn’t holding to stroke his cheek gently as you murmured, “Sleep, Soo.”

He was quiet, his eyes still dark and intense as they remained locked with yours. Your heart thudded as you briefly wondered if he’d come to his senses and if he remembered everything that he’d just revealed to you but then he opens his mouth again.

“Do you know something?” His voice is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret and you shake your head quietly.

“You always smell like the bakery,” he whispers, smiling softly in a way that made your heart ache. “You smell like fresh bread and sweet vanilla and strong coffee. You smell like happiness. Like home.”

A soft sigh of disbelief escapes your parted lips at his words, his eyes having closed off while he spoke as he slowly fell into deep slumber.

You were so goddamn blind.

“We’re both idiots,” you snort quietly as you gently loosen his grip around your wrist and walk out of the room.

But you decided to be the bigger idiot.

You heard Kyungsoo shuffling inside your room around noon the next day, making you glance at your bedroom door from where you sat on the couch.

The night had seemed to last forever. After putting Kyungsoo to bed, you’d spent the entire night tossing and turning on the couch restlessly. You briefly considered waking up and baking something or even heading to the bakery so that you could angrily complete that lemon meringue pie you’d left half-baked but your body was extremely exhausted and refused to even move. All the activities of the strenuous day yesterday had completely worn you out yet your brain refused to cooperate, unwilling to grant you the bliss of sleep as your thoughts grew louder with each passing hour of the night. Kyungsoo’s words, his drunken confession all echoed like a haunting melody within your head, forcing you to reminisce and reassess every moment that you’d spent together, viewing it in a light that you’d assumed to only be exclusive to you but had perhaps been the same light that he’d been seeing you in as well.

You didn’t know what to do anymore. You felt more conflicted than you did when he had stood you up and you began to wonder if it had even been a good idea to even go to the club last night.

Should you have even brought him back to your place?

You could hear the shower in your room then and you knew he was probably washing off the events from last night, the stench of all the drinks that he’d downed. You sighed as you grabbed his chopsticks for the Chinese take-out that you’d just ordered—both of your go-to hangover food—since you knew he’d probably be hungry. You hadn’t bothered with breakfast because you knew that he wouldn’t wake up by then so you’d just settled on brunch.

The door opens and your heart jumps as you look up, eyes locking with Kyungsoo. He’d found one of his tees that he’d given you—“you stole it,” he insisted—and sweatpants that he’d left here from a previous sleepover. He looked better than he did last night and you cleared your throat, ignoring the nervous flutter in your chest as you asked blankly, “How’s your head?”

Kyungsoo nodded, stepping forward into the room. “It’s a lot better now. I woke up in the night with a headache and had the aspirin before sleeping again.” He hesitated before murmuring, “Thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why’d you drink so much then, idiot?” You snort as you start to stand up, grabbing your phone.

You gesture to the food on the table. “I ordered Chinese. Have lunch and take another aspirin before you head back… home. Or to the hotel. Or wherever.”

Kyungsoo frowned at you as you searched for your bag. “Wait, what? You’re leaving?”

“I have a bakery to run, Kyungsoo,” you snort, finding your bag and grabbing your car keys as you head for the door while muttering, “I can’t keep coming in late because of you—”

“Y/N, I remember last night.”

You stop, hand freezing on the doorknob as your entire body goes still. Your back is facing him but you can feel his gaze on your back, feel the weight of it.

Kyungsoo’s usual deadpan tone sounds more wry than you’d ever heard it then as he says, “I remember last night so you can stop faking it and talk to me.”

Shit, shit, shit.

You take a breath, forcing yourself to slowly turn around and face him. You relent, throwing the keys and bag aside, crossing your arms in an effort to not reveal the way that your hands are slightly trembling as you nonchalantly reply, “I’m not faking anything, Kyungsoo, I am very mad at you.”

He rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to answer but you cut him off by asking, “How much?”

His gaze shifts to you and you clarify, “How much do you remember?”

“Enough,” Kyungsoo replies, carefully watching you now. When you don’t falter, he concedes, “Enough to know that I confessed to you.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath as you uncross your arms. “Look, it doesn’t have to be—”

“Is this your answer?”

You stop then, looking up at him with wide eyes. You frown at the shift in tone, noticing the despair that he was trying to hide in his expression as you ask, “What do you mean?”

“The fact that you’re pretending that nothing happened,” he answered, stepping forward as he spoke. “The fact that you’re ignoring everything I told you last night. Does it mean that this is never happening? That you’ve never liked me the way I’ve liked you?”

Your eyes are wide, back pressed to the door as he stood in front of you. The words that you wished to respond—even though you had no idea what they even were—were stuck in your throat as you gazed up at him, your breath growing shorter as you felt him raise his arm beside you to place it on the door as if to cage you in.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name, his close proximity and husky voice making your head feel like it was going to spin. Your lips parted of their own accord, head slightly arching back to look up at him as his plush lips hovered over your own. His face was close enough that his warm breath was mingling with yours and you could smell the minty toothpaste—your minty toothpaste.

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you could hear it, your eyes greedily drinking in the close proximity as they ran over his face with enough scrutiny to commit every detail to memory—the way his long lashes looked against his pale cheek, the tiny almost invisible mole right over his upper lip and the way his eyes looked like they were shining from within as they gazed at you.

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat as he leaned his head slightly to the side, angling his lips to yours until there was only a fraction of space between your mouths. You held your breath as he murmured, the words brushing against your parted lips, “Stop me, Y/N.”

And then Kyungsoo was kissing you.

Your eyes seemed to refuse to close, your body frozen like a statue and your arms were immobile at your sides as you felt his plush lips press against yours. It was light, hesitant and tentative like he was waiting for you to shove him off any second but you could feel the blood pounding through your head and coursing within every vein at that moment.

Fuck it.

You raised your hands tentatively, closing your eyes and almost collapsed back into the door as you started kissing him back. You felt Kyungsoo move his hand from the door then to gingerly place it on your hip and his other hand took your raised one that was hovering between your bodies to place it on his shoulder.

You made a soft sound of approval as you finally melted into the kiss, closing your eyes and digging your fingers into his shoulder to kiss him harder. Kyungsoo grabbed you by your hip then, holding you flush against him as he started kissing you more passionately while you dropped cupped his face with both your hands. You traced your tongue over his lower lip slowly and he was instantly parting his lips, slipping his own tongue into your mouth. Your guess was right earlier, you could taste the mint and as corny as it was, it had never tasted sweeter.

The kiss grew tender as he realised how breathless you seemed to be getting, both of your pulling away slightly while smiling against each other’s lips. Your eyes fluttered open to see Kyungsoo was smiling so hard that his eyes had become little crescents as they looked at you.

“You didn’t stop me,” Kyungsoo breathed out, sounding incredulous enough that you let out a soft laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” you repeated his words from last night, thumb stroking his cheek affectionately before correcting, “Well, we both are. I wouldn’t have stopped you ever, Soo.”

He pauses, gaze shifting from both your eyes as he asks quietly, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“For the same reasons you didn’t,” you replied with a sheepish smile. You suddenly grin with the memory of last night as you say, “If only you told me earlier, I could have said that I’m whipped for you too.”

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrowed at that, nose scrunching cutely in confusion as he repeats, “Too?”

“You said last night that you’re whipped for me like whipped cream. That you’re whipped like my Eton mess, like my pies, like my custard—”

“Oh my god, stop!” Kyungsoo buried his face in the crook of your neck in embarrassment, making you burst out laughing aloud as you fully wrapped your arms around his back and held him to you. His voice was muffled as he mumbled, “Most of those things aren’t even whipped.”

“I know!” You laughed again and pulled him away enough from you to look at his face. His cheeks were faintly rosy and it reminded you of last night again.

His voice is grumpy as he asks, “What else did I say last night?”

“A lot of things,” you teased, grinning as you kissed the corner of his mouth. “Enough to torture you for at least a decade.” You gasp exaggeratedly, raising your voice dramatically as you wonder aloud, “Who would have ever thought that Korea’s favourite actor Do Kyungsoo who has an internal breakdown every time he has to do aegyo and act cute was actually so cheesy and corny? That he would look me in the eyes, with his chest out while proudly saying that he is whipped for me like my whipped cream, that he would rather eat me than my custard—”

Kyungsoo grabbed your face then and shutting you up by kissing you again. You grinned against his mouth as he wrapped his arms fully around your waist, lifting you up against the door so that your legs curl around his lean hips.

“Aren’t you hungry?” You murmured into the kiss.

“Yeah, for you,” he countered, kissing your jawline. His husky voice right in your ear made the small hairs on the back of your neck rise as he groaned, “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this?”

“Mm, show me,” you hummed, taking his face into your hands again as you kissed him harder. You thought Kyungsoo would lead you to the couch but he carries you to your bedroom instead, laying you down on the edge so that your legs are hanging off the edge of the bed. You blink up at him, pouting slightly as you clutch the front of your shirt—his shirt. Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow then, smirking slightly as he asks, “In a hurry, are we?”

“You think you’re the only one who’s been waiting forever?” You retort, using your elbows to push yourself back further up the mattress. You grab his hand and yank him harshly towards you, making him stumble slightly as he almost fell over your body while you started lifting his shirt off of him.

Kyungsoo raises his arms, helping you pull off the thin shirt and you immediately grab his shoulders, pushing him onto the bed beneath you. He blinks up at you in surprise as you throw your leg over his waist to straddle him, his gaze questioning as he looks at the blouse that you still had on.

“I’m going to be so late for work,” you muttered, pulling the blouse off your neck and throwing it across the room as Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at you.

“Chanyeol can hold the fort down for one day, Y/N,” he snorts as he sits upright against the headboard to grab your hips and seat you on his lap properly. You feel the growing bulge beneath his sweatpants brush against your clothed core and your lips part open of their own accord, making him smirk almost dangerously at you as he murmurs, “Has anyone told you that you’re a workaholic, babygirl?”

The word is so foreign from his lips, his expression so foreign yet familiar as he gripped your hips tightly to adjust you right over the tent in his pants. He leans forward and kisses you with an almost vehement fervour, trailing his hungry mouth over your cheeks, jawline and down the curve of your neck. You sigh softly, eyes closing and head arching back as you feel his plush mouth suck on the sensitive soft spot on your throat, his tongue licking incessantly.

Kyungsoo’s hands move almost unnoticeably, curving around your back to unclasp your bra as he marks up your neck. There’s a fire coursing through your body, making you feel as if you’d been plugged into a circuit—every place on your body that he was touching; his lips, his fingers, his firm thighs spread beneath your own, his warm breath were all sending crackles and tingles of electricity through your veins.

You could feel the outline of his hardness against your thin shorts now, your wet heat pressed right up against him and his fingers expertly pull the bra off your body. His cool fingers are cupping your breasts then, thumbs stroking your nipples experimentally as he teasingly thrusts his hips up into you.

A loud moan leaves your lips unintentionally at the sparks of arousal ignited by his touch and your eyes snap open as you hear yourself, feeling Kyungsoo still slightly beneath you at the very porn-star-like noise that you’d just made.

He pulls away from your neck to look up at your wide eyes and you’re already opening your mouth to apologise, feeling the embarrassment swallowing you but he grabs the side of your neck then, kissing you fiercely.

“You sound so fucking beautiful,” he groaned huskily, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours, his voice a breathy whisper as he said, “To think that I could have been hearing those moans all this time.”

Your heart swells with an emotion that you can’t quite describe, an overwhelming need to feel as much of him taking over your senses as you crash your lips to his heatedly. Kyungsoo responds immediately, kissing you back just as hard as his fingers continue playing with your breasts and tweaking the nipples while you moan just for him.

Your own hand that had been on his chest lowers down his torso and slips underneath the elastic band of his sweatpants. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, eliciting a groan at the back of his throat as you smile into the kiss while stroking him up and down.

Lips latching onto the spot beneath his ear, you kiss and suck at the skin gently while pressing him back against the headboard. Teasingly, you explore his length leisurely with your hand and feel the way that it is already slick with pre-cum, using your thumb to spread the fluid around the slit.

You gasp against his neck when his hands tighten harshly around your breasts, fingers squeezing your nipple roughly enough that you felt it all the way in your throbbing pussy. Quickening the pace of your wrist, you continue circling the soft bulbous head of his dick with your thumb while he gropes your breasts. You pull away then to look at him, watching the way his chest heaves with the movement of your hand and his eyes flutter dazedly at you.

His gaze is unfocused and you lean forward then, kissing him as you start stroking his length with repeated up-and-down motions. Kyungsoo grabs your wrist then, stopping you and he pulls away from your mouth enough to say, “You’re going to make me cum like this.”

Kyungsoo’s hands find your hips then, tugging at the black shorts that you had on and you let him slip his hands beneath the waistband, pulling both your shorts and panties down your bare thighs. You raise your ass off his lap and yank the material from around your ankles hurriedly before straddling him again.

You grab his erection then, holding your breath and watch Kyungsoo’s face, noticing the awe on his face as you rub his head over your slit that was glistening with arousal.

“Oh fuck,” he curses lowly as you guide his dick inside you, the head parting open your dripping slit and your eyes were already fluttering at the immense pleasure you felt with just his tip inside you. You didn’t even realise the way you’d been whimpering until Kyungsoo shifts his gaze higher to watch your face, staring at you as you arched your head back while slowly pushing yourself down onto his length.

Your free hand is on his shoulder, his own wrapped around your wrist as you whimpered his name breathily when you feel his thick length stretching your tight walls open in the most pleasurable way. Kyungsoo’s arms wrap around your waist then as you begin moving up and down on his lap, riding his dick at an already speedy pace while you felt your lower abdomen tighten with arousal.

His plush lips latched onto your breast then and you moaned loudly, grabbing the back of his head and holding it to your chest as he sucked your nipple into his warm mouth. The wet warmth of his tongue and lips, along with the way his dick felt inside you as the tip brushed against your clit with every movement you made all had you soon trembling on his lap as you tried to reach both your highs.

Growing impatient, Kyungsoo grabs your hips then and pulls you off of his length, making you gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness, your walls desperately clenching around nothing. He shifts you around so that you’re lying back on the mattress, hands quickly removing the sweatpants that he still had on before crawling back atop you and spreading your legs wide.

His eyes are dark and heavy as they watch your face clearer then, memorising the way your lids flutter when he pushes his dick into your throbbing wetness again. You mewl softly as he fills you up again, already addicted to the way he feels inside you as you wrap your arms around his back.

You don’t get a moment longer to relish in the feeling as Kyungsoo immediately starts moving his hips at a quick and snappy pace against you, thrusting into you roughly enough that you can hear the echoes of skin slapping against skin. The wet squelching noises of your core become louder with every thrust, your walls tightening with the looming orgasm as he fucks you and you don’t realise how loud you are until he lowers his face to your chest.

Walls clenching around him tightly as if to suck him inside you, he groans at how utterly tight you feel as he thrusts faster. Your pussy convulses as his teeth sinks into your sore breast, Kyungsoo realising how sensitive you are over there by the way your body instantly reacts to him as you feel yourself finally fall off the edge.

Your nails are digging into his back and you groan as Kyungsoo’s hips stutter against yours, the rapid way that your pussy clenches and unclenches around him as you cum setting off his own orgasm. You gasp as you feel his warm heat flood into your slickness, filling you up as he continues sloppily thrusting to draw out both your orgasms.

You’re whining his name into his flushed neck as you slowly come down from your high, hand lowering to the small of his back as he collapses on top of you. He buries his face in your shoulder, breathing hard as you wrap your other hand around the back of his head while trying to catch your own breath. Feeling him soften inside you, he begins to pull away slightly but you wrap your leg around him and push him to his side so that he is still inside you with your body still pressed up against him.

You’d always thought Kyungsoo looked beautiful but you don’t think you’d ever seen him as radiant as he was right now, basking in a post-orgasm glow as he smiles at you. His gaze is filled with so much warmth and affection, the same expression that he’d had yesterday at the club when he’d first seen you and you feel shy all over again.

“Hi,” you mutter embarrassedly and Kyungsoo laughs softly, nudging your nose with his own.

“Hi,” he teases back, grinning.

He wraps his arm around your waist then, pulling you to his chest and you snuggle in that familiar warmth, smiling when you feel him bury his nose in your hair and inhale, remembering his drunken words from earlier.

‘You smell like happiness. Like home’.

You tightened your arms around Kyungsoo then, finally being able to realise the emotions that you always felt around him, that you always felt with him and that you felt now when you held him. The way that your heart had always swelled with every touch and gaze of his, that indescribable happiness that took over your entire body every time that he came back from a shoot and you had your arms around him again.

Best friend or boyfriend, Kyungsoo was your happiness.

He was your home.

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harryandmolly · 4 years

Text

fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *6*

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, not all fluff is fluffy (ya feel?), a chapter pic that walked into my hands and curled up and fell asleep

wc: 3.7k

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Lilly’s eyes slide shut. There’s no fighting it now, not when he’s kissing her throat like this, mouthing at her like a melting ice cream cone.

She kind of feels like one. It’s summer in Southern California, even though it’s May. They’ve started sharing Lilly’s balcony bedroom and can’t agree on whether to keep the doors open when they sleep. She still gets weird about the bird that flew in and woke them up that one time by shitting on her yoga mat. He likes the nature sounds, though. It reminds him of Pickering even more than his place in Toronto does. They’re not actually secluded out here but it feels like it sometimes, in a nice way.

It also doesn’t help, he supposes, that every mosquito in LA county finds a way to get under their sheets and bite her, and only her, when they leave a door or window open for airflow. He tells her it’s because she’s so sweet. She swears at him.

She won the battle last night, so the doors and windows are closed. The air is stagnant. In such an old house, the central air isn’t great. They’ve kicked all their sheets off and are down to their underwear. He likes the way her skin tastes a little salty-sweaty.

He’s not after anything other than holding her. In the few weeks since they’ve started back up again, their sex life has been borderline out of control. Shawn is chalking it up to lost time.

He likes the way she sighs and slips her fingers into his hair like she’s resigned to his attentions. He keeps his hands north of her underwear, conscious of not making her feel like she’s merely an outlet. He’s just… happy. He could count on two hands the number of nights they got to sleep in the same bed before they broke up. This is the height of luxury for him.

Shawn murmurs contentedly into the column of her neck. “Your skin’s so soft,” he whispers, skimming his nose beneath her jaw, “How do you get it like that?”

She giggles. He’s on fire, pleasantly burning.

“You saw my truckload of sheet masks. They’re not for decoration.”

Shawn pulls his head up, flipping his curls out of his eyes. He overdoes it, still used to having a lot more hair than he does now. She smooths it away for him.

“I’ve been bad lately,” he confesses, wrinkling his nose, “I ran out of the stuff Anna gave me like a month ago. And I do sheet masks a lot more when we’re touring, being on the bus and shit.”

Lilly looks crestfallen. Shawn lifts his brows in question.

“The only reason I’m in bed with you is to steal your outrageously expensive skincare.”

Her convincingly innocent expression goes impish so fast he’s glad he didn’t blink. He grunts and skims his teeth against her jaw as he laughs, swatting at her ass.

“Are you gonna share your masks or what?”

Ten minutes later, he has one of her terrycloth headbands pushing his hair back and Lilly almost sitting on his bare chest as she carefully presses the slick sheet to his face. She taught him how to make little cuts along the forehead, eyes, lips and jaw to fit it to your face best. It’s still too small for his giant head, but Lilly’s determined.

“There,” she declares, scooting back over his ribs. Shawn lifts his hands to her thighs, rubbing them softly as he watches her apply her own, expertly snipping the center of her nose flap to fold it up and out of the way of her piercing.

Shawn shuts his eyes and lulls himself further into this intoxicating calm with her.

“What’re these supposed to do?”

“Brighten, boost collagen, support cell turnover.”

Lilly flops on her back beside him. She nestles into the sheets and groans like they haven’t been lying in bed all day. She sneaks her fingers in between his. His nose twitches as he tries not to smile and fuck up his mask.

He rubs his thumb against the back of her hand.

Her whisper is quiet, strained. “Stop making me smile, you’re going to fuck up my mask.”

It’s Shawn’s turn to make breakfast. So, eggs.

Lilly swings her legs against the counter as she sits across from him, curating a playlist because you know when you just wake up and it’s a Beach Boys morning?

Apparently it’s a Beach Boys morning. Shawn has no arguments. Even if he did, he’s too distracted to voice them. It’s arriving today, all of it. As much of a professional recording studio as can be packaged and very carefully, very expensively delivered to their rental. Lilly’s been trying to keep him engaged since they woke up, they even braved taking their first masked walk around their neighborhood. Apart from the possibility of a rogue and well-hidden phone camera, he thinks they made it out without being spotted. As far as Shawn can tell, the internet thinks he’s in Toronto. He’s comfortable keeping it that way.

Turns out even aside from worming back into Lilly’s life, LA was a good idea. His team came up with a whole plan to keep him busy and keep him recording, but it would’ve been much harder to execute if he were a country away. He has Zoom sessions with producers lined up and instruments being tracked at other home studios, all the ones he can’t do himself, anyway. Now he just needs the equipment.

Shawn is folding spinach, mushrooms and onion into what he hopes is omelet-shaped eggs, kind of, sort of, when his phone buzzes hard against the granite.

“Ohmygodthey’rehere,” he hisses, barreling toward the front door without shutting off the burners, leaving Lilly swearing at him in his wake.

The proceeding half hour of large, larger, and largest Pelican cases being hauled into the living room is torture. It’s like if you had to watch your mum and dad bring all the presents from downstairs and stack them strategically under the Christmas tree before you got to rip them open. Once the delivery guys leave, they spend another half hour wiping down every square inch of the case surfaces with Clorox and taking stock of the equipment.

Shawn looks to Lilly, pained and squirming. She snorts.

“Go for it, champ.”

Shawn descends, Lilly close behind him. In another two hours, they spread everything out on the floor in relative chaos and exhaust themselves to the point of near panic.

Shawn scrapes his hands over his face and into his hair, grabbing at it to ground himself. “We just… I dunno, we gotta call Andrew or Teddy or somebody, we can’t do this alone, it’s too much.”

Lilly sits on her knees in front of a case full of long polls on stands that he can’t remember the name of. She makes a sour face and her high ponytail bobs against her cheek. His stupid sentimental heart swells.

“I hate it when you make me the positive one. Shawn, it’s fine. We need food, we need coffee, we need a strategy, this is fine. This is fine!” Her pitch rises noticeably at the end of her short pep talk. It’s distractingly anxious.

Shawn looks around hopelessly at the thousands of dollars of equipment strewn across the living room floor until she drags him by the wrist into the kitchen. They pass on their now sad and definitely burnt omelet and order from Eggslut, promising each other that they’ll have Sweetgreen salads for dinner.

Back on the floor, barefoot and hungry, they toss ideas back and forth between bites of brioche egg sandwiches. By the time the tater tots are gone, Shawn is off the ledge, coaxed slowly and with care (and carbs).

The plan is, essentially, a giant blanket fort. Since the living room is at the back of the house away from the street and the pool, it’s nice and quiet, but they need absolute silence for a clean track. They scout out a cozy corner, working around the baby grand, with enough room for the mics and recording equipment, plus a couch for Lilly if she promises to be very quiet.

“Ok so if we get the C-stands up around eight and a half feet, that should clear the mics,” Lilly declares, dragging sound-deadening furni pads out of another case.

Shawn’s head falls back. “C-stand. That’s it. Shit, I couldn’t come up with it earlier.”

Lilly winks and begins sorting them by size. Shawn turns to a case of C-stands and plucks one from a folded bunch. Within 25 seconds, he’s struggling, kicking at the legs and turning dials that don’t seem to do shit.

Lilly’s little hands appear in his view as she gently handles it, demonstrating the way the legs swing out and the stand rises.

“You’re so handy,” he praises teasingly, slipping his fingers between hers. She willingly releases the stand and slides around behind him, shrugging her arms around his stomach. He tries to peer at her over his shoulder and wonders if she can feel the way his pulse increases.

“Sorry, did you say ‘handsy?’” she murmurs, pushing her fingers beneath the elastic of his gym shorts. He holds his breath, muscles tensing everywhere. Just as soon as she’s there, suddenly she’s gone, nibbling away at his shoulder blade as he whistles an exhale through his nose. He chuckles and turns in her arms.

“Guess I gotta be the brains and the braun on this one,” Lilly says, lifting onto her toes and pecking his lips. Shawn grunts, looking to hold her a little longer, but she squirms away.

Lilly got her Beach Boys after all, on the house speakers at an almost egregious volume. They continue working, stringing up furni pad “walls” on C-stands and gathering extra throws and rugs from around the house. The problem is the fort’s ceiling.

“We can suspend them from the chandelier, as long as some of the weight still rests on the walls. But how do we get up there, can you reach? No. Wait-- no, no, is there a ladder? There has to be a ladder,” Lilly rants, turning circles beneath the chandelier until Shawn intervenes, catching at her arm.

“I’m your ladder.”

Lilly blinks, then squints. “Terrible plan.”

Shawn balks. “Great plan!”

“What, you’re gonna lift me? For minutes on end? It’s going to take a while.”

“You can sit on my shoulders. And that way I can keep you company,” he quips with a crooked grin. He likes the way his smile makes her smile.

“Shawn, no, you haven’t even been working out recently, and--”

Her realization of her own mistake takes over her face. Now that she’s made it sound like she doesn’t think he’s capable, he won’t leave it alone until she lets him prove it. She sighs.

“I can do it, Lill, you’re really not heavy. C’mon, I can always put you down. It’ll be fine!”

She cringes. “Famous last words, Mendes.”

Shawn corrals her with confidence and kisses until she’s sitting on the edge of the bar counter with her legs out as Shawn crawls beneath her and into position with her thighs on his shoulders.

“Three… two… one…,” Shawn grunts, ignoring Lilly’s persistent “oh god, oh god” muttering under her breath. He uses his lower body to press himself to stand. Lilly squeaks a little, clenching her legs tightly against his chest. He squeezes his hands on her quads with a little laugh.

“Told you. Did you seriously think I was gonna fuckin’ drop you?”

“I didn’t think you’d mean to,” Lilly mutters. She tugs once at his curls and presses into him again, giving him a feel for just what all those tree poses were for.

“Giddy up.”

One step at a time, they waddle beneath the chandelier. Lilly hooks up the loops she ingeniously sewed onto the furni pads to heavy duty Command hooks and sticks them up to the ceiling, one by one. The final pad goes up and the world goes dark.

“Oh my god,” Lilly breathes.

Shawn exhales. “We fuckin’ did it.”

Lilly lets out a squeak and smacks at his chest. “High five me!”

“I can’t see you!”

With a final uncoordinated scramble, Shawn kneels and Lilly stumbles off his shoulders. They fall into a puddle, enclosed in the quiet darkness.

“Thank you,” Shawn whispers, reaching out to touch whatever he finds. It happens to be her belly, where her shirt has ridden up. Her abs contract. He fights a goofy smile, even in the dark.

“I knew it was important to you.”

Shawn seeks her out. He can’t help it. He wriggles around until his head replaces his hand on her stomach, and links their fingers.

“I need to ask you something.”

Shawn looks up where her face should be in the blackness. He nods.

“How… many songs are about her? I just need to prepare myself for it.”

Shawn wishes he could see her face now. He thinks her voice is steady, but he can always read her face better. Whatever it is, it’s always in those big blue eyes.

“A lot,” he says honestly, “I went on a writing spree when we first got together. It was confusing, I think, because there was so fuckin’ much going on in my head. But writing about her helped… I dunno. I think it distracted me from how I still felt about you.”

He feels her swallow, but doesn’t hear it. The panic starts to rise, pushing him to keep talking.

“I don’t know what recording these songs is gonna feel like, Lill. I’m scared there isn’t gonna be any life in them. Because I don’t feel those things anymore. That’s why I left.”

Lilly sits up. Shawn’s head slides into her lap. His pulse is in his ears. He’s sick to his stomach.

“How do I know you didn’t say the same fucking thing to her when you left me?”

There’s no anger in it, just hurt. Shawn sits up, shaking his head, even though he knows she can’t see.

“Lill, please, I’m sorry. I really am. Fuck, I know it’s… it’s shitty. I can’t pretend to get it from your side. And I really don’t want to hurt you again.”

Her huff is aggravated, but she’s not running. He clings to hope.

“Well, it’s gonna hurt, Shawn, there’s kind of no getting around that if 90% of your album is ‘I finally got the girl’ songs.”

Shawn knows very little about life in general, he recognizes that, but he knows better than to argue the percentage right now. Tentatively, he reaches for her, finding her knee.

“Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know,” she snaps. Shawn draws his hand back and feels his chest tighten. It can’t end like this. Not after everything.

“Ok,” Shawn breathes, nodding to himself, ready to collect his shredded dignity and search on his hands and knees for the flap of furni pad they designed as the door.

Her hand stops him. She grabs at him clumsily in the dark, then finds his wrist. She can probably feel his pulse in her small fingers.

“You know I’d never, ever tell you not to record a song, right?”

There’s a desperation he barely recognizes in her voice. He nods until he remembers she can’t see him.

“Yeah, Lill.”

“Because I wouldn’t. I’d never try to take something like that away from you. I know you would sooner die before putting anything on a record that you don’t think belongs there, and it belongs there because you love it. I’d never want you to put that aside for my feelings.”

“I know,” he whispers tenderly, smoothing the pad of his thumb across the tendons of her wrist.

“Ok,” she says, creeping back toward calm, “Good. Then… do what you’re gonna do. Make the best fucking record. And we’ll figure it out.”

Shawn ducks his head. He knows ‘lucky’ doesn’t begin to cover it. But now when he writes, he works on finding a bunch of other words to help him get there.

Lilly exhales through her nose. It’s quiet for a few long seconds. Until--

“I’m so getting producer credit for all this shit, by the way.”

“This was a bad idea,” Lilly groans.

Shawn looks over at her. She’s shrugged into a ball in the front seat of his rented Range Rover. Her knees cover her masked face. Her eyes dart anxiously.

“Stop doing that,” he sighs, reaching over with one hand and pushing at her knees, “The windows are tinted. You’re wearing a mask. I’m wearing a mask. It’s fine, honey.”

Even with half her face covered, Lilly looks skeptical. He leaves his hand on her thigh and rubs circles with his thumb while they sail down an uncharacteristically empty Mulholland Drive.

Shawn was desperate to get out. They’ve barely left the property in six weeks, an unignorable reminder of their privilege. But while Lilly would very happily never see a human again as long as she lives, Shawn is a Leo.

“Yeah, and?” he prods after she reminds him of his astrological sign over post-workout protein smoothies.

“And that means you are not a happy camper without a spotlight. In your case both literally and metaphorically.”

He laughed and kissed her. She let him.

But the drive was a tough sell. Even though he promised they wouldn’t get out anywhere, even in a socially distant setting, it felt like a risk to Lilly. It took the reassurance of the windows and the masks to even get her in the car.

Now that they’re here, Shawn feels something heavy in his chest dissolving that he didn’t realize was there. He sings along to Spotify and drums on the steering wheel and points out crazy houses as they wind through various canyon neighborhoods, Lilly’s favorite.

“It took what, two days for pap photos to show up of you guys walking around her neighborhood in Miami? That was Miami, Shawn. How do you not expect paps to be stalking every tinted-out Range Rover within 5 square miles of Beverly Hills?”

Shawn’s thumb stills. He tilts his head back and forth at a stop sign, stretching his neck.

“We called them.”

Lilly looks up at him. “Hmm?”

“The paps in Miami, they were there because our teams called them.”

Lilly’s brows pull together. “But there were pictures almost everyday. For like, a week.”

“Yeah,” Shawn sighs, “I know.”

Lilly is silent and contemplative. He starts up the soothing rubbing of her skin, even if it’s more effective for him than for her.

“It’s just that if they do happen to find us, that’s it. We’re officially on the radar. Everyone will know you broke up, everyone will know we’ve been staying together. For weeks, Shawn. It sends a very clear message.”

They roll to a stop at a light somewhere near Outpost Estates. Shawn tugs his mask down below his chin.

“I’m prepared for all of that. It’s ok if you’re not, if you’d rather keep it quieter this time, I totally get it. Things are… different now. But you’re not my dirty little secret, Lills, you never have been and I will never let you feel that way.”

Lilly cedes, dropping her own mask and wetting her lips. “I don’t want to… hide. I just want you to be prepared for the fact that a lot more people are going to be mad at you for leaving her for me than were mad when you left me for her.”

The light turns green. Shawn bites his lip and presses the gas. They drive in silence for a while.

“Did I scare you?”

Shawn startles a little at the sound of her voice and cracks a little smile.

“No, baby, you didn’t. I mean, I know the deal by now. It’s just… so fucking unfair to you.”

Shawn finds a quiet little cul de sac that backs up against a wooded area. He parks and turns the music down.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Lilly pleads only half playfully, “I know fandom at least as well as you do. It’s ok.”

“But how?” Shawn insists, squinting at her, “How is it ok? The things people say to you, and you’re not even a public figure. How does it not get to you?”

Lilly smiles sadly. “It does sometimes. But I decided a long time ago that you were worth it.”

The guilt weighs heavily all over again. Leaving her feels unfathomable now, like it wasn’t a year ago that he did it, but ten years. That was a stupid kid version of him then. He knows so much better now. He hopes he does.

Shawn links their fingers and draws Lilly’s knuckles to his lips. He watches her over the top of them. She sinks happily into her seat and goes a lovely shade of pink.

“If I wrote down how many times I day I think about how fucking crazy I am about you, the world would be out of paper.”

Lilly cackles, tossing her head back. Her laugh makes him laugh.

“What?” he giggles.

“What a line!” she crows.

“That wasn’t a line, that was from my deep and lyrical heart!”

“That was the line-iest line that has ever lined. Shawn Mendes, you smooth motherfucker.”

He rolls his eyes but can’t stop grinning. “Shut up. I’m never saying anything nice to you again.”

“Mmm, you can’t help it, honey, you’re Canadian.”

He huffs an exhale through his nose and closes his eyes. Her thumb is soft and warm against the back of his hand.

“And apparently really fucking crazy about me,” she adds softly. He tilts his head and opens one eye to look at her.

“I am. Can’t remember why though.”

Lilly’s lips pucker as she considers a thought. Shawn’s legs tingle.

“Put the seats down in the back and I’ll happily remind you.”

Shawn feels his eyes go comically wide. Lilly’s lips spread into a Cheshire cat smile.

“You’re kidding. You’re not kidding?”

“I’m actually super not kidding.”

He hears her laughing as he leaps out of the car and crawls into the trunk to put the seats down. She doesn’t stop until the trunk closes behind them and his lips are on her earlobe.

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singingisfun · 4 years

Text

Changing Tides - Chapter 24

link to cover art by @otpapprovedbythegods

And here’s a link to an adorable pic of Dopey as a pirate by @clockadile

ff.net: From the beginning - Current Chapter

AO3: From the beginning - Current Chapter

The Betrayal and The Sword

Despite Arthur’s insistence, there is no fanfare upon Emm’s arrival. Emma’s eyes scan the crowd gathered around the round table; her father, Lance, Arthur and Guinevere, Jeff and Patricia, Ruby, Dopey; all of them watching her and Killian expectantly.

The Promethean Flame is burning bright in its case, the hilt and dagger of Excalibur lying on either side of it. Killian is to her right, their shoulders almost touching and their magic glowing warm between them.

With a steady hand, she motions to the flame and it lifts into the air until it has risen to eye-level, then she turns to Killian.

“Together?” she asks.

A smile blossoms on his face. “Always, darling,” he replies.

She nods to the dagger sitting in front of him while she reaches for the hilt. He slips his left arm around her waist as he lifts the dagger and holds it up, the tip of it meeting the severed end of the hilt in the exact center of the flame. Energy surges up her arm and the flame intensifies, the brightness of it causing her to turn her face into Killian’s neck to protect her eyes. The energy spreads through her body, molten heat so powerful that she’s tempted to pull away. She doesn’t, though, instead squeezing her eyes tighter and burrowing in further until she feels Killian’s fingers under her chin to lift her face. She opens her eyes as he cups her cheek, his lips curved in a sweet and joyous smile and it hits her that if his hand is free he must no longer be holding the dagger. His grin widens, like he’s read her thoughts and then, with a lift of his brow, he motions for her to look. The light is still blinding but it doesn’t so much as faze her – or Killian apparently – even though everyone else in the room has been forced to avert their eyes. The sword is whole and in her hand and it’s… It’s magnificent. Time seems to stand still while she stares, the blade shimmering and sparkling in the bright yellowish glow of light.

“We did it, love,” she hears Killian whisper and her eyes are drawn back to his. His smile tells her he’s feeling the same awe she is, then he plants a kiss on her forehead and they both turn back to the sword, his cheek pressed into her temple.

The glow fades but the sword is still shining when the others are finally able to look.

“Incredible,” Arthur whispers.

Her father nods his agreement, then makes his way around the table to engulf both she and Killian in his arms. “I knew you could do it,” he says to them. But then he turns his full attention on her, cupping her cheeks as tears well in his eyes. “Soon, we’ll have your mother back.”

He says it with such reverence that her throat closes and all she can do is nod. When he wraps his arms around her waist, she drops the sword to the table and they both laugh as he spins her through the room.

“Nothing can stop us now,” he exclaims, his voice booming with joy.

K&EK&EK&E

The celebration is unparalleled, wine flowing and everyone talking and laughing. Killian stands right in the middle of it with Emma at his side, accepting congratulations from all their friends. They have every reason to be joyful, do they not? It’s a great feat that has been accomplished. Excalibur is whole after centuries of being separated and now their victory is imminent.

But Killian can’t shake the feeling that something is off – something they’re missing.

Still, he can’t deny the victory of today, so he pushes the nagging worry aside and pulls Emma with him into a dance. Her eyes are sparkling with happiness, her smile brilliant with joy and he spins them through the room with the ease they’ve always had. Arthur and his wife join in, then Jeff and Patricia and Emma giggles when Ruby is bombarded with simultaneous invitations from both Lance and Merlin. Lance is the lucky winner, so Merlin turns his attention to Grace who makes everyone laugh when she drops into a deep and formal curtsy before accepting his hand.

The night goes on like that, the ladies switching partners from time to time to make up for the lack of females. Killian stands to the side to watch Emma dance with her father, then snags Patricia from Jeff while Emma dances with Merlin.

The wizard returns her to his side, both of them a little breathless as he slaps Killian on the arm and compliments Emma on her tolerance when it comes to his two left feet. Emma immediately denies his lack of dancing skills, telling him he did very well – for a man of his age.

Merlin throws his head back in laughter but Killian…

Killian doesn't know what alerts him, what instinct compels him to move. Later, he might attribute it to a glint of light in the corner of his vision, or a muted gasp that floats on the air. But right now, in this moment, his body moves faster than his mind and he pushes Emma behind him, grabbing frantically for his sword in the same motion. His hand closes on the hilt just as a sting blossoms on his neck, but he disregards it, ripping the weapon from his scabbard and swinging blindly in the direction of the apparent danger.

A dull thud sounds next to him, then there’s a harsh clang of metal that echoes through the room as vibrations zing up his arm. Then there’s chaos – a barrage of frenzied movement that his eyes can’t even register. He spins, reflexively lifting his hook to stop the flash of silver that is rapidly descending upon him.

His muscles strain, his hook frozen in front of his eyes as they finally focus, revealing the curved blade of Excalibur caught between it and his own sword mere inches from his face. King Arthur’s features appear behind the weapon, his eyes alight with madness and his face dark with determination as the two of them struggle against one another for several tense moments. The weapons teeter between them, muscles shaking from exertion, but with a rush of strength and a deliberate twist of his wrist, Killian sends the legendary weapon clattering to the floor just as a dagger comes to stop a hairsbreadth from Arthur’s throat held by none other than his most trusted knight, Lancelot.

The treacherous king raises an eyebrow when his gaze flicks to Killian’s neck and a devious smile spreads across his face, but Killian doesn't have time to ponder on that as Emma shoves past him and falls to her knees at his side.

“No!” she screams, and he follows the sound of her voice to see Merlin sprawled on the floor, his hand soaked in blood when he lifts it away from the red stain on his chest. Emma’s hands dart out to cover the injury and Killian immediately feels the spark of magic in his stomach.

“What have you done?!” King David bellows, drawing Killian’s attention back to Arthur just in time to see Emma’s father adding his sword to the dagger Lance still holds against the man’s throat.

Arthur snickers. “Why, I’ve betrayed you, Dave,” he replies with a touch of pride.

David’s brow draws together, his eyes widening with understanding. “It was you,” he breathes. “All this time, it was you. You’re the one the prophecy foretold.”

“I suppose so,” Arthur replies pleasantly.

David’s face slips into a mask of rage, his hand tightening on his sword as he takes a half-step closer, the tip of his blade pressing into Arthur’s neck. “Why?!” he demands at a shout. “Why would you do this?”

Arthur’s eyes turn cold, “Excalibur was meant to be mine! To be wielded by me!” He motions to Merlin. ”He told me it was supposed to heal MY land! He sent me on a fool’s errand to… what? Just hand it over to you? Let you and your daughter claim all the glory?”

“Glory?” Merlin asks in a strained voice, disdain dripping from the word. “Is that what you want?”

“I want what was promised to me!”

Merlin blinks rapidly a few times, obviously fighting against the pain to stay focused. “And this is going to get it for you?” he asks. “You want to go down in history as the man who murdered me?”

“It's better than going down in history as the fool who spent his life fulfilling someone else’s destiny!”

“Oh, what a disappointment you are,” Merlin croaks in reply.

“I’m the disappointment?!” Arthur rages, breaking free from Lancelot and stepping away from the group gathered around Merlin. “I’m the one who did everything that was asked of him. And what do I get for my loyalty? Both of my closest friends have betrayed me. One has stolen my destiny to hand it over to his daughter and the other has stolen my wife!”

Lancelot blanches but it’s Guinevere who speaks up. “That’s not true! It’s not like that – ”

“Enough with your lies! I see how the two of you look at each other. Do you think me a fool? But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll have what I deserve. Regina is going to reward me handsomely for this.”

“If you believe anything she said, you are a fool,” Merlin tells him, falling into a fit of coughing as soon as the words are spoken.

Emma’s body stiffens and she pushes harder over the wound, the usual warm tug of magic in Killian’s stomach shooting an unexpected flash of pain up his chest. Their magic seems to be having no effect and he instinctively drops to his knees by her side, slipping his arm around her waist in the hope that his touch will help. Her hands shine brighter and the discomfort in his chest intensifies but Arthur’s next scathing comment distracts him.

“It's no use,” the bastard chides, “a wound from Excalibur can't be healed.”

“He's right, princess,” Merlin gasps, “don’t exert yourself. It's futile.”

“No, there has to be a way,” Emma replies with determination.

Merlin’s eyes fill with gratitude and he even manages a small smile but Killian can tell he’s only placating her, especially when he next slides his eyes to David’s. “Well, I guess now we know why I could never see how this ends.”

Killian glances to David whose brow is furrowed in sympathy. “I’m sorry, my friend,” he whispers.

But Emma is not one to give up, frantically shaking her head. “No! There has to be something we can do. There has to be!”

As if to specifically contradict her words, a dense black fog suddenly appears, filtering out of the wound and through Emma’s fingers. Its abrupt and sinister appearance causes Emma to jolt away from the fallen wizard even as Killian pulls her back. The room goes deathly silent, everyone watching in horror as the eerie cloud splits into slithering tendrils in the air, coiling and twisting slowly toward the ceiling.

“What is it?” Lancelot asks quietly.

“It's my magic,” Merlin replies on a choked sound. “Looks like the legend was right.”

Once the fog stops oozing from the wound, a rush of air comes from nowhere and the cloud disintegrates, breaking into millions of tiny flecks that all blink out in the same instant.

“And that’s my cue,” Arthur speaks up, his voice much closer than it should be.

Killian whips around in alarm to find Arthur only a few feet away, his forearm closing around Guinevere’s throat. Apparently, while everyone was distracted, the retched king had slinked his way back into the group.

Lancelot immediately raises his weapon, but Arthur is too quick, putting Guinevere between them like a shield.

“Ah ah, old friend. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this flawless skin, would you?” he asks, one finger brushing against his wife’s neck.

Guinevere struggles. “Let me go,” she demands.

“I can’t do that, dear wife. You’re coming with me.” His eyes flick to Lance. “And soon you’ll forget all about your gallant knight.”

“You’ve nowhere to go. The knights – ”

“Are more loyal to Lancelot than to me. Yes, I know. But I’ve got a better way.” He pulls a potion bottle from his pocket and holds it up to show the group, his eyes triumphant as he scans the faces. With one last look at Killian, he raises an ominous eyebrow and throws the potion bottle to the floor.

Lance lunges into the purple smoke that engulfs the couple but when the mist clears his arms are empty.

There’s a tense moment of silence, no one moving an inch, but Merlin’s strained cough breaks it. Emma shoots forward, her hands already glowing again as she covers the injury. Merlin’s breathing is starting to hitch, his chest wheezing with each intake of air and Emma’s hands glow brighter with power. Killian feels it yanking at his lungs, making his own breathing difficult but he keeps his arm in place around her waist. She must be putting a great deal of effort into it because his vision blurs again and he has to balance his weight on his hook to keep from fainting dead away at the quick onslaught of dizziness that assaults him.

Merlin says something, and David says something else but he can’t make it out past the roaring in his ears. There's something wrong, he's never gotten weak or nauseous from their magic before, but now it's sending waves of pain through him, waves that start in his stomach, travel up through his chest and collide in a spot near the pulse pounding in his neck.

Without thinking, he lifts his hand to cover the excruciating pain and draws it back to find blood covering his fingers.

“Emma…” he breathes, his voice barely even a whisper as it all starts to make sense. The sting on his neck when he'd pushed her out of the way… the triumph on Arthur’s face… and the last glance he’d given him as he’d disappeared.

A wound from Excalibur can't be healed.

His stomach drops and he fights the darkness descending upon him, forcing his eyes to stay open even when his vision grays. “Love…” he tries again but he can’t get it out. With the last bit of strength he has, he grips at her waist, his fingers barely contracting on her hip just as the dark swirl of dizziness engulfs him and he collapses to the floor.

K&EK&EK&E

Emma’s ears are ringing, magic saturating every cell in her body. She can feel Killian behind her, his hand resting lightly on her waist, his heartbeat humming alongside her own but then…

Then, the furious beats lose their synchronization.

She feels one instant of confusion before her father shouts his name.

“Killian!”

She knows immediately.

Even before she sees him… she knows.

Her breath stops and the most agonizing panic she’s ever felt seizes at her lungs. A low hiss sounds in her ears; a terrible, grating sound that intensifies until it pounds against her skull. Her movements are sluggish when she turns, like every muscle in her body rails against what she already knows she’s going to see.

When her eyes land on him, the scream rips through her throat, “NO!!”

The wound on his neck looks like it’s already festering, the edges of it curled and the skin raw. It’s also oozing blood, painting a crimson streak that disappears behind the collar of his black shirt. Her hand covers it immediately and she can feel his pulse working beneath the cut, each frail beat soaking her fingers in red. There’s also a sheen of sweat on his brow and he’s so pale that it makes his lips appear as red as the blood now coating her hand.

Gripping at his collar with her free hand, she shakes him with all her might. “KILLIAN!”

He sucks in a harsh breath and his eyes open, the blue riddled with pain as they land on hers.

“STAY WITH ME!” she shouts desperately, pressing harder on his neck, “YOU HAVE TO STAY WITH ME!”

“Emma…” he gasps, his eyes squinting like he's not sure if she's actually there.

“I’m here,” she reassures him, already calling on their magic again, “you're going to be fine.”

He gives a pitiful shake of his head as her palm glows, his eyes blinking several times even as he tries to raise his hand to touch her. His fingers make it to within inches of her chin before the effort becomes too much and his hand drops to his chest.

Quickly, she links her free hand with his, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of it and digging deep into her heart to gather as much magic as she can and push it into her palm. The glow strengthens but the injury doesn’t respond, another drop of blood escaping and rolling down his neck.

“It was Excalibur,” Killian croaks, his voice sounding almost apologetic.

Emma’s eyes lift to his and her stomach plummets.

No.

No, no, NO!

This isn’t – It can’t be…

She can’t lose him now, not after everything they’ve overcome, after everything they’ve been through…

This can’t be it. Their story can’t end like this.

“It's alright, love,” he grits out, “you have everything you need now.”

“No. I need you. I can't do this alone.”

“You won't be alone. You'll have… your parents…”

His eyes slide shut and she shakes him desperately, “No! You have to stay. You have to stay. Please, Killian!”

“Take that sword and defeat her, darling. You're the only one who can.”

Her throat closes. “I can't, not without you.”

“You can,” he insists, prying his eyes open with obvious effort, “you can do anything.”

Tears cloud her vision and she shakes her head frantically to clear them.

“I love you, Emma,” he whispers, lifting his hand one last time to touch her face. The tips of his fingers make it to her chin, grazing lightly before his strength gives out and his arm falls limply to the floor, his eyes slipping shut.

“NO!”

Her hand leaves the wound on his neck, urgently holding it over his chest to check for a heartbeat. It's there but it's faint and she clings to it, her mind racing.

There must be a way. He can't leave her. There must be something. Her eyes dart in every direction and come to land on the legendary sword that did this and her temperature spikes. Merlin said it was selfish, he’d warned her it was greedy, and as she stares at it lying benignly on the floor a few feet away, she feels such rage that her skin heats from it.

“Don't Emma,” Merlin gasps, and Emma feels an instant of guilt because she'd forgotten all about him lying on her other side.

“It could save him,” she replies. “It could save you both.”

“But you don't know that.”

“Emma? What are you…” her father asks slowly.

But Emma doesn't answer as she continues her desperate train of thought. She needs something solid… something stronger than Excalibur… something…

The stone.

Rushing forward, she nearly trips as her hand closes around the hilt of the weapon, the handle sending a shock up her arm when she lifts it and turns on her heel.

“Emma, what are you doing!?” “Emma, stop!” “You can't!”

But the sword… the sword hums as if in encouragement, vibrating in her palm. It slides easily into the sheath of the stone and she'd swear she hears a light sigh of relief. Once it's buried, she grips the hilt with both hands and yanks.

K&EK&EK&E

Killian fights against the inevitable, clinging to the sound of her voice. No matter what he said, he doesn't want to leave her and he combats the approaching darkness with every ounce of will he has. His consciousness goes in and out, one instant he can feel her presence next to him and in the next she's gone, then the next there’s a bombardment of shouts and yelling, enough so that he manages to force his eyes open. They're telling her not to do it; they're screaming at her to stop and Killian struggles to search the room for her, desperate to see what’s happening.

His eyes land on her and, if his body had the strength, he’s sure his stomach would clench. As it is, though, his body has no physical reaction but his brain screams in protest. She's at the stone, the sword buried half-way into it while she pulls on the handle with all her might.

She's trying to break it.

No, his brain screams, it's too valuable. You’ll need it to defeat Regina. He's not worth this.

But then their eyes meet over the hilt of the weapon and with one last jerk that has her bellowing with rage and exertion, the blade snaps in a shower of sparks.

It feels like an instant later that their magic is flowing through him again. It's warm and shimmery and it swamps every single blood vessel in his body. There's a gasp and an echo of it and then he's jolting up, sucking in a clean, fresh breath of air that fills his lungs for the first time in what seems like ages.

“Killian!”

Emma crashes into him and he almost falls back over from her weight, his strength not fully returned yet but he manages to catch them just before they hit the ground.

“It's alright, love. I'm alright.”

Her tears soak his shirt, her face burrowed in his neck and he pushes them up into a better sitting position so he can return her embrace, tangling his hand in her hair and burying his face in her throat.

“I'm alright,” he assures her again, but she’s not letting go, she just nods into his neck while their magic burns through him, the life of it warming him from the inside out until even his skin feels hot.

Emma is nearly suffocating him, but she’s shaking so badly that he doesn’t dare move for fear that she’d not be able to sit up without his support. As to him, his strength is returning rapidly in the wake of their magic, his lungs expanding more easily with each breath. He sees a glimpse of Merlin getting to his feet, he hears some murmured words being spoken between the wizard and the rest of the group but when he tries to turn, Emma grips tighter.

“No, don’t let go yet,” she pleads roughly, “Just… I need another minute.”

His heart constricts and he crushes her closer, a rush of reverence pouring through him as he realizes just how broken his brush with death has left her. He knew she loved him – it’s not that he didn’t – but the unreserved urgency of her touch in this moment is more powerful than any words that have ever been spoken between them and it’s… well, it has him closing his eyes and basking in it, has him pressing his nose into her cheek while her fingers dig urgently into his back.

And that’s where they stay, cradled together on the floor, both of them oblivious to the conversation going on around them, both of them trying and failing to get their breathing under control. He’s not sure how long it lasts, how many times their chests rise and fall, but he’s in no hurry to end it.

#Changing Tides #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years

Text

Chaser - Vince Kovac x Reader Drabble (Tangle)

Pic Credit: X

Author’s Note: So I found this one buried in my notes-! And I thought “There’s a quick light-hearted fic-!” and here we are-! I wrote this in the car on the way home. One hit. And I figure I need to write more stuff like this so by all means, please do request!

Disclaimer: Tangle Characters not mine / lyrics not mine / cap not mine

Premise: Taking Vince track running was fun, lapping the poor guy was better...

Words: 1339

Warnings: sexual connotations / sexual flirtatious banter

_________

It's the thrill, it's the hunt, it's the love of the game It's the get what you want and then you throw it away It's the rush of the fall, not the land It's the catch her if you can, catch her, catch her if you can Yeah, boy, you're nothing but a chaser So go ahead and chase her It's the thrill, it's the hunt, it's the love Catch her if you can, catch her, catch her if you can It's the thrill, it's the hunt, it's the love Catch her if you can, catch her, catch her if you can

--- Sometimes it was nice to just go for a drive. You might usually force him to run it, but you were feeling kind today - and besides, there was just something about sitting up in his truck. Even with that ‘Kovac Construction’ triangle emblazoned on the side, which more than once had got you into trouble whilst driving it, for something Vince had done. But it was cozy and warm, and the drive to the track could be filled with music and chatter rather than Vince asking how much longer you were going to make him run at pace - then around the track - then run back. Which would kill him for a few days after, and he was tired, grumpy and subsequently no fun. For you track running meant real sprints with block starts, endless loops and lapping people. Vince just liked timing how long it took to do a circle of the track as he came in tighter and tighter. And was always one for trying to beat his personal best. Today you sat with a little smirk on your face - tapping your nails on the door where your arm was resting. Eventually Vince was far too curious not to ask; “What?” “What?” But you were aware of exactly what you were doing “What’s that smirk for?” You turned to him with a mischievous giggle; “I just always look at your truck bed and wonder how the hell you’d think you’d fit me in there.” “Well, I would gladly show you after we’ve warmed up a little.” He indicated for the turning, making your smirk broaden, “Surprised you’re not suggesting it as the warm up!” “Gladly, darlin, but I doubt you’d want to run after me...” He pulled into a space and shut off the engine, leaning across to brush his lips to yours “besides, like you’d be able to resist one round, hm?” You supposed Vince had at least one point there, his sex was addictive. And you weren’t sure if that was your fault or his. “I’ll show you a thing or two about rounds...” you kissed him back a little harder before exiting the car “when I run circles around you again.” “Uhhuh...” He locked the car and pocketed his keys as you walked to the check in desk, stretching his body whilst simultaneously checking out yours - “It’s okay you just run on ahead babe...” “I’m gonna be half way around the track before you get a chance to stare at my ass Kovac...” though you did admire how his shirt grazed above his stomach as he raised his arms. “Oh, babe, you know I love it when you use my last name.” You were pretty sure he got that from you more than he ever did Vince. Occasionally you’d call him Vin; and that’s how he appeared in your phone - but his last name was pretty cool and you just liked saying it. “You’re lucky it’s so damn sexy.” You signed yourselves in and walked through to the fenced track; “I figured it was lucky that I was sexy, or I’d have probably never got you to fuck me.” “HA!” You simply laughed your way to the starting line. Warming yourself up as you went, which had him eyeing you curiously again. Of course, this time you caught him. “Do you ever stop?” He folded his arms with a grin; “No. Not really.” “Well at least he’s honest-!” You sighed gently, “Alright, keep up boy, I’m not screwing around-!” “Pretty sure that’s exactly what you are doing.” He scoffed, starting his stop watch as you both set off gently, Vince knew eventually you’d get bored and jet off on your own - but he liked that you let him set the pace. Especially as you were the one pace setting the relationship. Whilst true that he had now got you in bed - you knew that Vince had a one-track mind, only ran hot... and didn’t really do his thinking with his head... So you had to keep him chasing you - even if it was around a track, and you had to keep things interesting. That wasn’t as hard as you expected, and he was enamoured with you, and your life. You certainly still had the power here. And you kinda liked being the woman in control of a man who was known for wandering. You started with shoulders and arms brushing, still talking and laughing, feet to track sound in sync as Vince weaved you from inner to outer track and back again, steadily picking up his pace until he levelled off at comfortable. Until he was ready to kick it up a notch, here he would stay, and you’d be comfortable here for maybe another round around the track by his side, but then you’d pull ahead of him, still close, still so you could hear him behind you and call to each other if you still wanted to talk. But eventually Vince knew you wanted to run free, and he’d just call to you to get going. But you always held on for 100 or so more meters, or around the next corner before you took off. And he would drop down a gear just to watch you run; the wind through your hair, the movement of your body - everything you set your eyeline to, and the smile on your face - the breaths you took until you were too far away for him to really see anything. It took a couple more laps for you to actually lap him, and you whistled to him - the first time you’d done this he’d become utterly confused and you’d tripped each other up, now he knew to simply expect a sweet kiss on the cheek as you ran by. Which he hated to admit made him beam as much as it did. It was about another lap before he was really lagging; and you managed to lap him once... then twice... then three times. Which had you giggling; “Are you timing yourself-!?” You called back “babe I think you’re a little off the pace—!!!” Vince cried after you, that strange mix of anger and angst that you were teasing him again, and when you lapped him once more he really did try to catch you up. That only made you run faster as he gave chase, but he couldn’t keep that up, and Vince had to pull out before he strained something. It wasn’t long before you realised you couldn’t hear him behind you and slowed yourself down to look over your shoulder. He had his arms behind his head, walking and pulled up, his breathing heavy, looking toward the sky. You frowned, turning a neat hairpin in a slow jog and running back to him, worried that maybe he’d injured himself. By the time you reached him he was bent forward, hands on his knees and at a standstill. “Vin-!” You slowed to a walk and then stopped in front of him. His breathing really was heavy; “Go on then-!” He managed between pants; “Gloat-!” You folded your arms “Why would I do that?” Then tipped your head, concerned; “You okay?” He stood straight; “Yeah... yeah, I’ll.. I’ll be okay. I’m sure you get a kick out of this-!” Vince watched your look of worry turn into a tiny smirk, you just couldn’t help yourself – “Well sometimes I wonder how you think you’re gonna last more than a round in the back of your truck, but, okay...” You took a few more steps into him “...Do you want me to drive back?” “I think I can drive..! Dammit you really do get a kick out of this!” He chuckled, hands on his hips You smirked, “No... not in the slightest-!” You pulled him into you, lips to his, and hands in his hair. You winked, voice sweet as sugar; “Besides, Kovac, I’d really like some assistance with cooling me off in the shower...” --- @menndelsohn @3134045126 @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad

#Lyrics are perfect and its essentially a cheating song so double perfect #Lyric #Vince Kovac #Tangle #Ben Mendelsohn #Team 2009 #123 #One-Two-Three!#Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #Happy Drabbles

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lockdownuk · 4 years

Text

Lockdown Diary Part 8

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 211: I stayed up till 5am last night. The last thing I watched was Ronny Chieng, a Malaysian comic in the states. It was a Netflix comedy special and bloody funny. Other than that, a quiet night, nowhere near as fucked as Friday night. As I type, I am about to finish off spicy af sausage cassserole for tea and watch a film - all quite sedate. I’ve work tomorrow, after all!

Day 212: Every time I try and watch something on Amazon Prime, it errors or doesn’t load so I have to uninstall and reinstall, which is a pain the fucking arse. Glad I don’t pay for it. I watched half of the Tom Hanks film last night, A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood, based on a real life children’s TV actor. It’s good but weird. I’ll finish it tonight. Jo Broom called and told me (well, reminded me of, actually) some good info, especially about insulin lasting 4 hours and the liver producing sugar for when you wake up). Day 213: I didn’t watch the rest of that Tom Hanks film last night, doing so right now. I got a call @5.30pm from Tall Tom asking to pop round which he did (social-distancing at the front door). He dropped of a canvas print he’d ordered of on eof my pictures from FB. Fucking gobsmacked! That’s how much he likes them. I am still in shock. What a brilliant thing to do! Day 214: Finished A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood last night, I enjoyed it. Today has been standard. Half way through the third week back from furlough and, while I am still very glad to be working, I now also relish pasrt of being paid 80% for fuck all! My walks have been tentative today, I have done something to my right ankle, it feels sore but OK when walking at pace. My phone and Google Fit are playing up - I am suddenly walking 8km/h! Day 215: Phoned Dad - Rita sent an email a couple of days ago telling of a lump in his ear which he had removed and they are going to check for cancer. When I spoke with him it was usual dad - nothing to worry about. He spoke very highly of the staff at Stamford Hospital where he had it done. They took skin from his nesxk to put on his ear lobe where they performed the op. I had pie and veg tonight. It’s a real change and I am stuffed as I type this. SB pee-ed me off at work big time late this afternoon. Diary updated! Day 216: Dan’s in court today for his drink driving escapade. I think he’s pleading not guilty - I’m not sure, neither has he been each time I have talked to him about it. It was scheduled at 4pm and he’s meant to let me know how it went. As I type, it’s just gone 9pm. Fuck knows what’s happening. I guess he’ll let me know in his own time. Meanwhile, work was OK, nothing hectic, I am on my first Friday beer, just about to eat meatballs and pasta and watch Taxi, a film written by Luc Besson. End of my 3rd week back and it’s a bit like I wasn’t furloughed for 6 months!

Day 217: I switched off that Taxi film after 30 minutes. It was bollocks. Dan got a 20 month ban (reduced to 15, if he does a course, which he says he will) and £1100 fine. At least it’s over and done with now. I got up at gone 2pm today. I have to cut this late sleeping habit out at the weekends. That being said, it’s 8.40pm, just about to dive in the shower, eat and then get on it. Clocks go back later so I’ve an extra hour to play with!

Day 218: Still managed to stay up stupidly late last night, up at before 1pm (but in real terms, that’s just before 2pm!) Had a video chat with Fog - I was meant to go up to his yesterday to listen to the footy but, ‘cos I was up so late, I didn’t. Anyway, during our chat, we’ve decidied to go to Honolulu when it’s safe, specifically to go to McDs. It was a bizarre conversation - I can’t actually remember the details!

Day 219: The lady (I think it’s a lady) from the Oundle Chronicle emailed to say she didn’t think William (the student) has contacted me (he has but is fucking useless), so she’s found some questions for me to answer and wants me to pick my favourite 4 (hi-res) photos. I’ve written a couple of paragraphs that answer her questions and I was to pick photos that have had the most likes on FB - finding that info out, without trawling back over my posts, is easier said than done! Got the car tyres sorted today - an advisory from the MOT that Julian did last week.. I do like Oundle Tyre and Exhaust centre. Work was fine. Marke had to deal with Eileen Baxter and chatted to me about it. I had it all the week before last. She’s delightful but the least IT savvy person I have ever known in a workplace whereby a computer is integral to the role!

Day 220: I’ve been doing press-ups and toe tocuhes after each exercise for a little while now. 7 press-ups, doesn’t sound much but when I did it before and rapidly increased the numbers (up to 22), it played havoc with my shoulder which I thought was becoming frozen. So, I will icrease the amount slowly. I can just about touch my toes now. When I started, I barely got past my fucking knees! Work was standard today and I had an interesting chat with a recruiter about a job at Jagex, a computer game firm responsible for Runescape which is, apparently, a big deal. Posh playing tonight. At one point, when leading at home to Burton we were top. Now it’s 2-2 with minutes to go and we’re third with fucking Lincoln top. Day 221: I sent an email to Shirley from HR (re) asking about the salary discrepancy between mine and Mark’s. She’s going to talk to me tomorrow about it. I had a lomng chat with Barrzy tonight, always good to catch up and reminisce. I’ve just had two sausage rolls (on the cheap shelf from Co-Op, Dauphinoise dotatoes (ditto), mixed green veg and onion gravy for tea and I am fucking stuffed.

Day 222: Typing at gone 4pm on day 223! Had a meet with Shirley. No dice on the pay until it can be reviewed next year. All pay reviews are on hold. She explained that the salary offer was based on available budget rather than a pay grade or bench mark. Day 223: Typing this very late on day 224. Usual Friday. Work, beers, bed at 5am. went up Fog’s for a couple and watched Train to Busan. Day 224: I swore blind, when I woke and got up (2.24pm) I would have a day off from exercise. Stair climb and 10km walk done! Leigh from Oundle Chronicle messaged chasing my answers for the article. Last night, someone posted such great pics on the Oundle Chatter group that it makes me think twice about posting my photos. I tell everyone I just point and snap with my phone camera and, while it is the phone camera, I do so much pissing about with Google photos I feel like a con, it doesn’t sit well with me. Made lasagne for tea. Fucking lush - lardons, scothc bonnet and an Oxo cube really helped, I think. It’s 11:44pm as I type, 15 mins and I’ll deliver K’s birthday card. Not sure what I am hoping to come out of that, really. Just can’t let go! Day 225: Stupidly late one again last night. Up at 2pm. I’ve responded to Leigh at the Oundle Chronicle - why I make it so hard, I do not know, I really overthink some things. Eye appointment tomorrow, 9.50am, which Sam, Mr. Minos’s secretary offered me when she called on friday. Sueanne was very cool about it when I checked it was OK. So, now I am fretful of what will happen! More lasering, I reckon.

Day 226: Eye clinic was not great. I need lasering in my right eye, so that will be both eyes. Mr. Hussain, the consultant that ive seen loads including today, explained that the field of vision is affected that it can mean I am not allowed to drive. In one eye it doesn’t matter, in both the DVLA will order a test and, if the field isn’t wide enough, means I won’t get a license to drive. Shit! K WhatsApp to thank me for the card plus some ‘chat’ which ended uninvitingly (i.e., end of conversation!). I just replied that I was glad she liked it (the card),

Something is up with my left thumb, it’s sore by the nail, as if it’s ingrowing, but it isn’t. Fuck knows what it is and it’s really bothering me, very painful. Pretty shit day, all in all. Day 227: Called the surgery about my thumb and Dr. leijsen called me back, asked some questions about the photo (I had to take a pic and send it in), including whether there’s any pus, and then said she’ll prescribed anti-biotics. Later today, it started to leak pus, and feel better! But, it’s still not right so I’‘l take the course. Looks like I have got an interview for the IT support job at Jagex, got a call from the recruiter today, just need confirmation. Spoke with Shirley from HR about the fact I might not be able to drive in the future. She was pretty cool about it in a kind of cross-that-bridge way and suggested I run it past Sueanne.

Day 228: Spoke with Sueanne about my impending eye lasering which is on Friday ay 3.30pm, the hospital called to let me know, she was very cool about it and even suggested I take Monday off! More importantly, she spoke of the non-driving as no factor to worry about job wise, especially as we are all WfH nowadays. I have an interview at Jagex, well, Zoom, but it is on Friday, 1pm.

Day 229: Told Mark at work about the lasering adn potential non-driving. I think it shocked him a little. I am worried about tomorrow, big time, although it’s just lasering - I’ve had it done before. I cannot wait for this time tomorrow (9.40pm). I have been trying to concentrate on preparing for the interview but it’s all too easy to get distracted. Day 230: Interview went OK. Eye appointment was horrible but bearable. The doc wants me to book in for more laser but, only so it can be reviewed and ‘topped up’ if need be. Better than a going for a check up and having to book another laser appointment thereafter. It’s near enough 9.00pm and I am going to enjoy a bear or two.

Day 231: No after affects to speak of from the eye appointment but I know lasering has occurred. It’s like I haven’t got the full set of cells recieve information from yje pupil. It’s intangible but still perceptible. Great walk today, took some cracking photos - very pleasing. More booze and draw tonight and, hopefully, up tomorrow before the 2.20pm wake up time of today. Posh beat Oxford away (1-2) in the FA Cup 1st round.

Day 232: 2pm by the time I got out of bed. I’ve got to curb this habit. Missed calls from Dad but answered one from Rita just before going for a walk when I promised to phone tomorrow. Day 233: I think SB wa surprised was at work today. I ordered two rugs (from irugs.co.uk). They are 8x5″ and were 75% off, £58 ea. One for under the table (desk) and I put one in the spare room. Hopefully keep the house a tad warmer. Getting into Barry on Sky Comedy. Barry’s a hit man. It’s darkly intriguing. I took a couple of pics of a solitary poppy today, icuding a couple of macros. They turned out OK so will post one on Wednesday (11/11). Talking of photos, two people (one is Alison Brighty) asked for a jpeg of one of the photos I posted on Saturday so they can get it printed.

Day 234: Spoke with dad today, let him know the situation with my eyes which, I think worries him, so I hate to do it but, also, he needs to know, just in case.

Day 235: The poppy pic I posted was very well received, over 160 likes on the Oundle chatter page and Jo Langford wants the original (why she can’t take it of FB?) to print off, which is nice. I am working on Saturday - gotta attend a meeting at 8am. FFS! SB also agreed for me to back on call, cool!

Day 236: Average sort of day. I really wish I wasn’t working on Saturday! OH, Dan messaged...first I’ve heard from him for over two weeks...he’s got two days of so he can watch all the US Masters which started today, and was good watching. So, not that average a day afterall, now that I think back on it. Day 237: Woke up at 9.14am today, yikes! Messaged with Dan a lot as he is home watching the US Masters...told him abbout my eye issues and the fact there’s a chance of losing my driving license. Also, in a silly facebook post and comments, about me not being able to drink tonight ‘cos of work tomorrow, Scottish Ricky asked if I was OK. I replied, not really, meaning that I’m pissed off I can’t get pissed. He messaged to say if I ever need to chat. Fucking great bloke. I rang him to let him know I was not being serious on FB and we chatted for 30 mins or so. Top man. still, it does remian that I am missing a beer this Friday - roll on tomorrow night!

Day 238: Work thsi morning was OK, finished at midday. Watchung golf, having abeer or two right now (just gone 8pm). Posh lost away to Crewe 0-2. Day 239: Up at 2pm after a good few drinks last night (and some silly video posting on FB of me trying shit lager - Corrs Light - with hot sauce). Just settling down to watch Dustin Johnson win the Masters - he’s -20 with 2 to play, no one near him.

Day 240: I ordered some slippers from Amazon that arrived today. They were also returned today. I’m destined to never find a decent, non-expensive pair.

DJ did win the golf.

I watched Jojo Rabbit this evening. A first class film.

#diary #Tumblr diary #lockdown #COVID19 #lockdownuk

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butwhyduh · 5 years

Note

If you are still doing the Friday smut requests can you do something like a pre-bitten peter sub?

I’m gonna assume you mean a universe where peter is an adult when he gets bit by the spider because I don’t write teenagers like that.

Peter Parker was nothing special. He took photos for a small local newspaper. Okay, calling it a newspaper was a bit much. It was a rag print that ran conspiracy theories for most of it. Last week the cover was “Queen of England: Lizard Lady.” But that (along with delivering pizzas on the weekend) paid his bills as he went to college.

The current photos he was sent to get was Captain America and Iron Man on a date. He didn’t think they were dating much less hitting fancy restaurants together. So a challenge. But if someone could find a photo of the Queen of England looking a little green he could find something romantic about the two superheroes.

Your desk was right across from his, much to your dismay. He constantly had paper and old coffee cups everywhere. Sometimes a pile of papers would slid on your desk. He’d show up late and you’d have to watch the drama as the editor would yell at him. Again.

But all in all he was a really nice guy. He would walk with you to your car when it got late despite the fact that he probably couldn’t win a fight if you paid him. It was the thought that count. It also helped that he had adorable brown eyes and curly brown hair with a sweet smile that would make anyone want treat him well.

Today he sat with his head in his arms on the desk. A literal red string covered bulletin board sat mocking him in the corner. He was nowhere near finding the proof of their love. He hasn’t even gotten a single snapshot of the two in the same area. He smelled like coffee and dispair.

“Hey,” you said softly. He quickly looked up and you jumped. “Sorry. I was just- Uh you- don’t take this the wrong way but... you look like you need a break.”

“Oh... uh maybe? I don’t know. I have to find this today or else I won’t get a check this week and then I’m homeless. You didn’t need to know that. Sorry,” he said turning red.

“Do you want help?” You offered.

“Aren’t you busy?” He asked. You looked at your finished article. Not exactly the height of journalism you had aspired to as a kid.

“No. I think I’ve got my article down. Not much research involved in “Installing Shower Grates Protect Woman From Sewer Gators.” It kinda wrote itself,” you said with a smile. “I also want to get out of here before they give me another assignment.”

“Yeah that makes sense,” he said with a laugh. You grabbed your bag and stood up. “Wait, where are you going?”

“To get your scoop. Come on,” you said. Peter quickly grabbed his backpack and followed. You hurried out the door and down the stairs before anyone could call you to do more work.

Ten minutes later you stood in front of the fire escape of a small 3 story building. Peter stood panting. His thin shoulders moving with effort of trying to keep up with you. He smiled embarrassed. You went to climb the ladder hanging from the fire escape.

“Wait. What are you doing?” He asked.

“Climbing up. There’s a Stark Benefit coming up and that’s your chance to get the shot if there is one. It starts in an hour. So we better hurry if we want you up on the roof before they get here,” you said pulling your self up a rung. “You coming?”

“Yeah, okay,” he said dancing around a little like he was psyching himself up. You rolled your eyes and climbed up to the roof. Peter struggled up the ladder before climbing as far from the roof as he could. He heaved out of breath.

“Come on if you want your shot,” you said laying on the ground near the edge. Across the street a fancy art building was decked out for an event. It looked like the event was to raise money for prosthetic limb research for children. Peter slowly crawled to edge. His face strained nervously.

“Not a fan of heights,” he admitted.

“I thought you got a picture of the Vulture downtown,” you said frowning. “That was quite a ways up.”

“Don’t tell anybody but I paid this punk in a red hoodie carrying a can of spray paint to do it. Bought him some street tacos for it,” Peter admitted. You laughed.

“I guess that works too. Well now you’ve got to get your shots up high today. Limos are arriving,” you said. Your attention was back on the building in front of you. Peter pulled out his camera to look. “Even if you don’t get your shot some other paper might buy the pics from this event.”

“Why can’t we be down there with those photographers?” He asked.

“You need an event badge and they won’t give one to a paper that called the Queen a lizard,” you reminded him.

Thirty minutes later and no Tony Stark or Steve Rogers, your energy was starting to deflate. And Peter shifted. A lot. He couldn’t seem to sit still. You ignored it hoping that the next car would hold them both. An hour later Peter was literally pacing.

A shiny new red sports car rumbled around the corner before stopping in front of the building. “Hey, I think it’s them. Or at least Stark.”

Peter quickly clambered beside you, almost dropping his camera in the process. You gave him a look before he fixed it. He took a few shots of the car before Tony Stark climbed out. He fixed his suit before opening the passenger door. The lovely Pepper Pots climbed out. Peter took a few shots. Rumors were common that the two were dating.

Out of the backseat popped a head before long limbs followed. Peter took photos as Captain America, Steve Rogers almost fell out of the backseat. You weren’t even sure how he fit back there. Peter quickly snapped shots of him glaring at Tony Stark before smiling at cameras. A driver got in the car and drove it off.

You gasped as Tony Stark pat Steve Rogers on the bottom before smiling for the cameras. “Did you get that?” You asked. Peter was grinning.

“Definitely. I can’t believe that’s real. I didn’t think- are they dating?” He asked surprised.

“Maybe? I mean, they’re really close,” you said. You suddenly realized how close Peter’s face was to yours. His freckles on his nose and cheek visibly beautiful in the early evening light.

“Thanks. I really need this,” he said.

“Yeah for rent, right?” You said with a smile.

Sigh. “Yeah, just don’t mention that to anyone please,” he said turning red.

“It’s cool. I work at the same paper as you. I’m not exactly rich,” you said pushing your hair behind your ear. Why did you do that? Are you flirting with him? He’s probably just being professional. No, he’s looking at your lips.

“I don’t wanna be weird but you’re really pretty,” he said before turning red again. You flushed and smiled.

“It’s the sunset really. Anyone looks good in-“

“No. I mean, you look pretty at work too,” he said. You looked at him for a beat before leaning in to kiss him. His thin fingers slid to hold your side. You pushed him to his back where he made a soft “oof” sound. You climbed on his lap and Peter pulled you closer by the hips. Your fingers curled in his hair.

You took advantage of the moment. You had a crush and who knew when something like this could happen again. You rubbed against him. The delicate material of your dress pants felt divine against his coarser pants. You felt him get hard under you. Your clit rubbed the tip of his cock through your clothes. You grinded against him while making out for a while.

A siren passing by made you jump. You pulled away and you both laughed. “It’s just an ambulance....And a second. I probably should follow it. It might be a lead...” you said getting up.

Peter sat up adjusting his pants to hide his erection. “Yeah. Okay. I need to get these photos developed. See you around?”

“Yeah for sure,” you said already climbing on the fire escape. “Call me.”

As you climbed down you texted your dad. “Thanks for that. The pat really sold it. I owe you.”

Headline the next day:

Ironman and Captain America: Secret Lovers Behind Pepper Pots Back

Will Stark Industry fall over this?

#friday night smut #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker smut #avengers #marvel #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader

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rogerina-deacon · 5 years

Text

Getting High // Taron Egerton x Reader

A/N: Okay so it’s no secret ya girl loves weed, so when I saw this post of pics of Taron at a pot shop I knew I wanted to get high with him, so here’s a HC! Also, since the title doesn’t suggest it, I’m just gonna warn you that there’s smut near the end of this

It’s a long one, so it starts under the cut!

When you and Taron started dating and you showed your interest in cannabis, and he told you he enjoyed it too, it didn’t take long for you two to get high together

Being the gentleman he is, he bought literally everything

And of course it was high quality, so it didn’t take much, but he still got a lot

He got eighths of five different strains, two sativas, two indicas, and one hybrid

He also got some concentrate to top off bowls with

And of course he also preground everything, for two reasons: the first, so you can get even hits, and the second so you could also top bowls with kief

He even got edibles, as if he didn’t have enough to get you high off your asses already

But you two had planned on making this a weekend-long smoke session, so I guess the amount was excusable?

The man was prepared to get stoned off his ass like never before

He got to your place at 11:00 AM, bags in hand full of anything a stoner could ever want

You two laid everything out on your coffee table, though it all barely fit since you had already put out your pieces

To get started, you took some hits from a pipe, not wanting to ruin your lungs with the bong just yet

So you two got fairly high from a couple of bowls before deciding it was time to order food

And, as previously established, he’s a gentleman so he bought all the food too

Which was a lot

We all already know the man loves his food even when he’s sober, so just imagine him with the munchies

Thank god you lived in the city where every place delivered, and if they didn’t there was UberEats available

He ordered so much: fried chicken, pizza, cheesy garlic bread with lots of marinara on the side, a fucking sheet cake from the local bakery, literally anything you wanted and more

So, now that you had done all interaction with the outside world you would be doing today, you moved on to the bong

Now, he had gotten a pretty good sized bowl piece, but there was still a mountain of weed when he packed it

He filled it to the top with weed, then a pile of kief, which would have fucked you up anyway, but then he added a small dab on top

And, being the gentleman he is, he offers you greens, which you accept

And damn are you coughing up a storm

You were just thankful you used hemp wick to light it so you weren’t harming your lungs even more with butane

Honestly you could barely take the whole hit at once, you had to go back to clear it

You were kind of embarrassed, but Taron was coughing just as much, maybe more, so you felt better about coughing so much you literally cried

Just as you two finished the bowl, the first of your food arrived: the jumbo sized stuffed crust pizza with a side of cheesy garlic bread and lots of marinara

You two were in heaven, and that was only made better by Taron being a cuddle bug when he’s high

You two were cuddled up on the couch, stuffing you face with food, and it was amazing

You just felt so nice, like this was some kind of dream

The rest of the food arrived shortly after, and your home basically became a buffet with all the food

You two grabbed a couple dining room chairs to put the food on, since you knew if you put it in the kitchen you wouldn’t want to get up

When you got stoned, you got really fucking quiet, just living in your mind

So you were just laying on the couch, completely silent, curled up in Taron’s side as you stuffed your face

Which he honestly thought was really cute, so he was just silently staring at you as he also stuffed his face

Once you were done eating, he packed another bowl, though it was sloppier than the first

And this time, the weed made you incredibly horny

And luckily it did the same to Taron, so he had no objections when you straddled his lap

In fact, he grabbed your waist and guided your hips, your forehead touching his, making all the more intimate

He started kissing just under your jaw before he started moving his lips lower, trailing down your neck

And all this felt better than it normally did, your senses heightened by the marijuana in your system

He slowly undressed you before undressing himself

He somehow managed to take off his pants without you getting off of him, which was really impressive

You were hovering over him, knees on either side of him, and he slowly trailed his hands up your thighs, from your knees to your waist, cherishing the feeling of how soft your skin felt under his fingertips

Even high, he knew you’d need some warming up before he entered you, so he slowly ran his finger through your folds, and he was surprised by how wet you already were, muttering “fuckin’ hell” as he just kept sliding his middle finger through your slit

Which felt better than normal, leaving you breathing heavy

He slowly entered a finger into you, his eyes widening at how good you felt around his finger

And he began moving his finger around inside you, hooking his finger into your g-spot like magic, a moan leaving your lips at the feeling

He soon added his ring finger, repeatedly stimulating you g-spot, relishing in how you clenched and moaned because of him

When he figured you were ready for him he removed his fingers, your disappointment in this evident in the whimper that left your mouth

Though he had been mostly silent before this, he finally spoke up, asking if you were ready for him

When you nodded and said “Please”, he guided you down to his cock, one hand on your waist, the other holding the base of his cock

When his tip reached your entrance he let you take control, your hand replacing his on his cock as you slowly sank down onto him, your head thrown back in bliss as he stretched you

You stilled once you bottomed out, adjusting to his, dare I say impressive, cock inside you

And you slowly started moving, rocking your hips at first before you began bouncing on him, his hands helping to lift your hips

You two were both in complete ecstasy, the pot making your orgasms approach fast

As Taron both helped to move your hips and thrust into you, you moved a hand down to rub circles into your clit and he felt your walls clamp down on his cock as you got closer

When you came it was like fireworks erupting from your core, Taron completely taking over stimulating both of you, simply holding your hips in place as he thrusted up into you, riding you through your high as you moaned and twitched around him, the clenching of your cunt around his cock spurring on his own orgasm

When you both came down, you adjusted to cuddle with him, laying curled up in his side once again, though this time nude

You whined though, as he had to move forward a bit and stop cuddling with you for a second as he packed another bowl, placing it in the bong and bringing it back to you, along with a lighter and hemp wick

You two just relaxed there for the rest of the night, taking bong hits and cuddling until you two laid down and spooned together on the couch and fell asleep.

If you liked this, check out my masterlist!

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @thewinchesterchronicles @queen-irl-af @deacytits @punkgeekchic @the-holy-black-hole@radiobribri @deaky-deacy-denky @queenbbarnes@brianprobablywill @nyikondlovu @thatswhatiam-lovernotafighter

Send me an ask or a message if you wanna be added to my taglist!

#taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #taron egerton headcanon

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kyleoreillysknee · 5 years

Text

Sounds Good? - Chapter 1

Pairing: Kyle O’Reilly x OFC (Amanda)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,983

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe agreeing to move into a stranger's spare room after a phone call wasn't the best idea. Maybe she should've realized this before she was standing outside the apartment door with her arms too full of her stuff to properly knock. After kicking it in hopefully a polite way, Amanda nearly lost her balance and toppled backward until a pair of large hands secured her elbows.

"Woah there, you alright?"

At least the stranger sounded nice, and after peeking over the box in her grip she realized he looked nice too.

With a light strain in her voice, Amanda managed a weak smile as she said, "I'm ok!"

"Here let me get that for you," The nice stranger offered with a lopsided grin, easing the box from her arms and tucking it against his side in order to give her enough space to enter the apartment, "I'm Kyle."

"Oh thank you," As she stepped around him, she cautiously scanned what she could of the place and found it perfectly neat and tidy which held promise, "I'm Amanda, it's nice to meet you!"

Now able to get a better look at more than the top 1/4 of his face, Amanda realized the more than nice stranger was nice in more ways than one. He would've had a boyish charm if he wasn't so giant. His ginger beard didn't match his hair colour and he was somehow pulling the look off. It didn't help her poor nerves that he was giving her his undivided attention so she couldn't look away from his big warm brown eyes.

"Than-" "Do y-" They both abruptly stopped at the sound of the other's voice and Amanda let out a breathy giggle while he bit down on his grin and used his free hand to gesture for her to continue.

"I just wanted to thank you for letting me move in, I promise to not be a bother," She bowed her head a little and hoped he could see how grateful she was in her gaze.

"It's fine, I had the open room and," Kyle hesitated for some reason before admitting, "Candace vouched for you and explained the situation a bit."

"Oh," Amanda mumbled, trying to hide the hurt from her voice before her curiosity got the better of her, “What exactly did Candace tell you?”

“Just that your old roommate kicked you out without much notice,” the corners of his eyes crinkled as he flashed a sympathetic smile, “It’s cool if you don’t wanna go into it. Can’t imagine that was fun to deal with.” As he spoke he motioned with his chin down the hall before guiding her towards her new room.

“Yeah, it’s … yeah” Amanda sighed, absently rubbing her elbow as she stood on the threshold before letting out a small noise of surprise, “There’s already a bed in here?”

Kyle placed her box on the naked mattress before giving a nod, “Bobby- The guy that used to live with me didn’t need it when he moved out so I’ve kept it in here. I can move it out if you need the space.”

“No!” she quickly blurted before catching herself, “I mean, no thank you. I actually need one, I couldn’t really fit mine on the bus.”

Kyle frowned as he gave her another once over seemingly searching for something, “Did you … get kicked out today?” Amanda slowly sunk her head down, biting her lip before quickly nodding, which only made his frown deepen, “And you only have a small box of stuff?”

“I wasn’t given a lot of time to pack,” she admitted sheepishly, wanting to do nothing more than sink into the floor under his scrutiny.

“Well,” Kyle drew out the word, bringing the dramatic tension to a boil before continuing, “Let’s go back and get the rest of your things. I got a truck so there’s plenty of room for anything big.”

Amanda snapped her head up in surprise to see Kyle giving her a warm smile. The little bit of kindness enough to make her sniff and force back some tears. Kyle either didn’t or just pretended not to notice as he fished around in his pockets for his keys. Soon enough they were approaching his truck.

After having to jump and pull herself up into the seat, Amanda caught Kyle stifling a laugh from the corner of her eye huffed which only forced him to clear his throat to cover a snort. The drive was odd in that it was incredibly easy for her to feel comfortable around him, but she didn’t let herself linger on that, having bigger things to deal with. As they parked she felt all the tension build up and force her shoulders and back to go rigid once she habitually looked up at her old balcony. Having not heard his door open, she turned to find Kyle looking at her with pinched eyebrows.

“Time all the time you need,” He offered, the worry in his eyes overpowering his attempt at a reassuring smile. After watching her take a few deep breaths he couldn’t help but ask, “What exactly happened?”

Amanda sat on her hands to force herself not to fidget before she answered, “Her boyfriend tried to make a move on me and when I told her about it she got mad at me and accused me of trying to steal him from her before kicking me out. I’d never, he’s a jerk!” She grimaced as she got worked up for a moment only to deflate with regret, “but still, maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“No. You did the right thing.” Kyle said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world before reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder, “Listen, I know we just met so this doesn’t mean much but I got your back. We’re going to go up there, grab your stuff, head home and order pizza, sound good?”

“That sounds really good,” Amanda spoke with every ounce of sincerity she could muster as she gave a small smile which made Kyle’s widen. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze before getting out of the truck and waiting for her to take the lead.

As she approached the building, she gave herself a small internal pep talk, not realizing she was softly whispering encouragements until Kyle chuckled a little once she called herself a tiny badass. Now sporting a bright flush, she punched the buzz code and held her breath until hearing a familiar voice in an all too sweet tone.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Amanda," she hoped she sounded assertive despite fighting a small quiver in her lip, "I want the rest of my stuff,”

“Oh,” the sweetness vanished into a sneer and Amanda half expected to be hung up on, “You have 5 minutes.”

At the click of the door swinging open, she let out a shaky breath and found Kyle sporting that combo confused and concerned look again.

"I'm sorry about anything Alexa ends up saying to you," she sighed as they entered the elevator.

"M sure I'll be fine," he replied, nudging her gently with his elbow, "I got my big boy pants on today."

Amanda let out a feather-light laugh as the doors dinged open, "I could use a pair, where do you get yours?"

Kyle's face split into a grin and chuckled, "The big boy store, obviously."

Their banter managed to make Amanda forget to be nervous until the apartment door swung open to reveal Alexa poised to strike. Her icy glare flicked over to Kyle and Amanda relished in the short-lived moment her composure broke.

"Who's this?" Back in her line of fire, Amanda froze for a second.

"I'm Kyle, her new roommate," he spoke up from beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Amanda stood a little taller at the gesture, drawing some strength from it.

"We won't take long." She said, stepping around Alexa and into the apartment. Kyle surprised her by saying excuse me to Alexa before he followed her but she realized that he didn't know Alexa well enough to recognize that anything that could've been killed with kindness was long dead.

Entering her old room, Amanda flushed at the embarrassing state of things, having torn the place apart in her earlier rush to grab the essentials and priceless. As she went to grab the stack of flattened boxes from her closet, Kyle made his way over to her bunny cage and knelt down to get a better look inside.

"What's this little guy's name?" He asked with an eager fondness as he poked his fingers through the bars to gently pet the flop-eared rabbit.

"Hubert," Amanda answered with a bit of pride before panic set in and she began rambling, "I'm sorry, I forgot to ask if your building allows pets! Or if you were ok with rabbits. I swear he's not annoying or smelly, I clean the cage-"

Kyle held up his hand to get her to stop talking and wore a bemused smile, "Its ok, on all fronts. I'm not going to let you get rid of a guy as handsome as Hubert." He stood up and crossed the room to help her with the boxes.

"I am a bit surprised that you left him here though," He moved to her bookshelf and began clearing out the shelves.

"Alexa’s mean and spiteful but she's not evil. She'd never do anything to him. And I was going to bus back here for him right away." Amanda began emptying the drawers of her dresser into a backpack.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm of packing, exchanging facts back and forth. She learned he was a firefighter, loved cooking, and had his friends over once a month for a game night. He found out she was a vet assistant and requested puppy pics once a week as part of the rent agreement.

An hour passed before they managed to get everything sorted, Alexa only poking her head into the room to complain at them twice. She tossed Amanda her old set of keys and instructed her to shove them under the door once she was done getting everything out. It didn't take long for Amanda to end up back in the passenger seat with Hubert in his carrier on her lap.

The drive back was spent recommending music to each other and occasionally fussing over Hubert when he made distressed honks. Kyle was a workhorse once they were back at his place and through precarious box placement managed to get everything moved in two trips. Amanda laid out like a starfish on the floor surrounded by towers of her stuff and let out a giant sigh of relief, feeling at least 10 pounds lighter now that the cloud of facing Alexa was behind her.

"Thank you for everything today, Kyle."

He turned from setting up the rabbit cage to glance at her over his shoulder and smiled warmly, "You don't need to thank me so much, just trying to be a good roommate." Amanda lifted her arm to give him a thumbs up which had him laughing and shaking his head.

"You said something about pizza?" She brought up a few minutes later, still sprawled out on the floor and staring at the ceiling.

"Oh fuck yeah!" Kyle exclaimed, jumping up to pat down his pockets for his phone and gently toss it beside her once he had his order put in. They spent the time waiting for the delivery unpacking and Amanda told him about the time someone brought in a monkey to the vet. Later when she was full of pizza and flopping into bed she decided that despite the start of her day being awful today was overall a good one.

#my writing #kyle o'reilly #wwe imagine #kyle o'reilly x ofc #kyle o'reilly imagine #nxt imagine #wwe imagines #kyle o'reilly imagines #nxt imagines #fic: sounds good?

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imjustthemechanic · 5 years

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Glockenspiel

Part 1/? - Transmission Part 2/? - The Sandhill Hotel Part 3/? - Piccadilly Part 4/? - The Future Part 5/? - Too Late Part 6/? - The Mystery of the Missing Time Machine Part 7/? - Underway Part 8/? - The Sierra Bunker Part 9/? - Cross-Country Part 10/? - The Pit Part 11/? - Calls for Help Part 12/? - Campout and Reunion

For a moment Kevin clearly didn’t know what to do. His eyes went from his car to Peggy and Howard to a restaurant next door to the Roxxon station. Then he took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said. “Get in the car.” He stuffed his phone in his pocket and tucked his receipt from the repair shop under his chin so he would have his hands free to put the key in the lock. “But on the way,” he added as he climbed in, “you have to tell me what’s going on, so I can kick you out if I think it’s stupid.”

“You’ve got a deal,” Howard promised him.

They crammed themselves back into Kevin’s blue Gremlin, and he drove them out of town, back up into the National forest and back into the rain. On the way, Peggy began telling an abbreviated version of the story of how she and Howard had come to be here. Toulouse had accepted the time travel part without questioning it, but Peggy’s gut told her that Kevin was likely to be less credulous. Toulouse had also said that HYDRA had been in the news in the last couple of years, so Peggy started there.

“We’re being followed by people from HYDRA,” she said.

“HYDRA?” asked Kevin. “Like, the Neo-Nazi group that infiltrated the government?”

“Yes, them.”

“Geeze.” Kevin shook his head. “I looked up their hitlist when it went online. One of my professors was on it. She said it means she must be doing something right, but… yeah.”

“They’re searching for a lost super-weapon called die Glocke,” Peggy went on, “and for some reason they think we know where it is. We went to investigate a site in the Sierra Nevada mountains, outside Los Angeles, but they ambushed us there and took us up to near where you found us so they could throw our bodies in a deep pit.”

Kevin glanced over his shoulder. “You mean that great big hole in the woods that looks like something in space just shone a big laser down?”

“You’ve been there?” Peggy asked.

“Twice,” said Kevin. “The first time I just got lost and kind of blundered across it. They hadn’t put up the fence yet at the time, it was just this clearing in the woods with a giant hole in the middle of it. It scared the shit out of me so I left, but I told Leah – I mentioned Leah, she’s a park ranger – I told Leah about it a few days later. She basically said pics or it didn’t happen, so I went looking for it again. It took me a couple of weeks to find it again, and by the time I did there were people there building a fence around it. I didn’t want to get too close in case this was some sort of national security thing. I didn’t want to get arrested. What’s it for?” he asked.

“We’d be happy to explain, but we don’t know, either,” Peggy said.

He was disappointed, but not surprised. “I wondered if it was something to do with the volcano.”

“We thought that, too,” Howard put in.

“I mean, it’s pretty much the biggest in the world and it’s supposed to be overdue to erupt,” Kevin went on, half to himself. “I thought maybe somebody was trying to drill into it, to let off steam and maybe keep it from blowing.”

That was not an illogical conclusion, but Peggy’s mind immediately went to the opposite extreme. If it were possible to prevent a volcanic eruption, perhaps it was also possible to cause one. Would HYDRA do that? Natural disasters could strain a country’s resources, leaving fewer people to fight back during an invasion.

Howard’s mind went somewhere else. “The biggest volcano in the world is in Yellowstone?”

“You didn’t know that?” Kevin’s eyes lit up. “Oh, man. Yeah, the entire park is basically one giant volcanic caldera, thirty miles across. It last erupted about six hundred and fifty thousand years ago, and the pressure’s been building ever since! When it goes, if humans are still around then, it’ll pretty much take out the entire western half of the country!”

“You’re joking,” said Peggy. “Or at least exaggerating.” He had to be.

“No, no, I do this for a living, remember?” Kevin asked cheerfully. “I work right on top of the biggest time bomb on the planet, and study the pond scum that lives in it!”

Peggy had been considering the eruption of a small volcano. This sounded like an apocalypse… the sort of thing nobody would survive except perhaps for people hiding in a bunker under a hotel a thousand miles away. She looked at Howard, and could tell by the expression on his face that he was thinking the same thing.

“You said die Glocke might be a sonic weapon,” said Peggy.

“Right,” said Howard. “Shaking up a volcano could cause it to erupt if you hit the resonant frequency required to break up the rocks. Why would they do that, thought? HYDRA wants to rule the US, not destroy it.”

“Well, what else would they be trying to accomplish?” Peggy asked.

“I don’t know,” said Howard, “but it’s not a victory if there’s nobody left to acknowledge that you won. Even HYDRA’s not that crazy.”

He had a point, Peggy thought. As he’d said, HYDRA’s goal was to control the world. If Kevin were being literal about the volcano annihilating the entire west coast, that seemed counterproductive. At the same time, though, she couldn’t help feeling that they had another piece of the puzzle here. If she could only figure out how the bits all fit together.

It was another long, wet drive up muddy, winding roads to reach the safe place Kevin had in mind, which turned out to be a little ranger’s cabin within smelling distance of the sulfur springs he studied. The inside of this was extremely spartan – there was a small bed, a desk, a fridge, and a bathroom. The closest thing to a kitchen was a pan and kettle sitting on the desk, each of them with a cord to plug in.

“I’ll go get the generator started,” said Kevin. “It gets pretty cold up here at night but I’ve got some extra blankets. There’s no phone or internet at all, though, not even a land line.”

“That might be all for the best,” said Peggy, thinking of what Howard had said about satellites that could find people anywhere. If they had no way to contact anyone, then nobody would have any way to track them down.

Supper that night was hot dogs and beans, cooked by Kevin in his electric pan. Peggy and Howard, both starving, devoured it as if they hadn’t eat in weeks, and Peggy couldn’t remember the last time something so plain had tasted so good. For dessert there were fruit-flavoured marshmallows right out of the package. Then Kevin made himself a cup of instant coffee and sat down to do some work on his own laptop computer, while his guests decided to go to bed early. Peggy took the sleeping bag, while Howard just wrapped himself up in blankets with his folded-up jacket for a pillow.

“Well, it beats sleeping on the floor of a delivery truck,” Howard muttered, trying to get comfortable.

“It’s quieter than being in the same suite as you and Toulouse,” Peggy replied under her breath. She hoped Toulouse would make it safely, and she hoped Kevin wouldn’t suffer any consequences for helping them. Peggy was beginning to come to the conclusion that the only way to keep her friends from getting hurt in the process of her entirely-too-exciting life was not to have any, and that really was a dreadful idea.

In the morning they got up early, ate cold cereal with milk, and drove back down to the town of Badger. There was no guarantee, of course, that the HYDRA men wouldn’t still be there, but when they drove up and down the main road on what Kevin declared a ‘surveillance run’, there was no sign of the brown truck. They therefore felt safe to park outside a Mom and Pop grocery shop, where Peggy borrowed Kevin’s phone to call Toulouse.

Once again, Toulouse answered right away. “Hello?” she said timidly.

“Hello, Toulouse,” said Peggy. “Where are you?”

“I’m on my way,” Toulouse promised. “I couldn’t get a flight to the nearest airport so I ended up landing in Sheridan and I’m driving from there. The GPS said I’ll be there around noon. Is that okay?”

“It should be,” said Peggy. She looked around. “I can see a place called the Huckleberry Restaurant. We’ll be waiting for you there.”

They sat in the diner all morning, drinking coffee and watching the cars go by outside. Peggy and Howard were on the lookout for suspicious vehicles, but unless the HYDRA people were to show up in the exact same brown UPS truck, how were they to recognize them? Kevin tried a couple of times to make conversation, but quickly realized that Peggy and Howard were too distracted to keep up their end, and took out his computer to continue working.

It was closer to one o’clock than to noon when a dark green car parked in front of the restaurant, and Toulouse got out, looking around furtively as she did so. She must be worried about being recognized, Peggy observed, because her clothing today was downright drab – jeans, a black shirt, and an oversized sweater vest with a hood. Her rainbow hair was stuffed underneath a knitted cap and her lipstick was a relatively ordinary shade of nude. She spotted them, and hurried over to join them at their table.

Kevin looked up from his computer and did a double-take as she sat down across from him. “Your Toulouse is Toulouse Sandhill?” he asked. “The hotel heiress?”

“Ssssh!” Toulouse told him. “Yes, I am!”

“This is officially the weirdest week of my life,” he declared. “The only thing that could make it any weirder now is Bigfoot.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” said Peggy. She turned a bit in her seat to put a reassuring hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “Toulouse, it’s all right,” she said. “We’re all okay?”

But Toulouse put her head down on the table. “You didn’t see what was in that bunker,” she moaned. “I’ve been waiting for the Men in Black to jump out and erase my memory any moment. They’ve got pictures of cows with their heads on backwards, and there’s things in the freezers that if they’re not aliens they’ve gotta be people, and that’s way worse.”

“Did you see anything like the machine we described to you?” Peggy asked.

Toulouse sat up again and shook her head. “I did think about calling Cass,” she said, “even though you told me not to. I thought I’d bring it up casually, like did you know the people who work here think there’s Area 51 in the basement. Maybe he’d have an explanation for it… but what could the explanation possibly be, right? It couldn’t be anything innocent.” She rubbed at her nose. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Deformed cows, Peggy thought… and possibly deformed humans as well? Could it be that not everything transmitted through the machine made it to the other end of time in one piece? If so, she and Howard were far luckier than they’d thought, and there was now a whole extra layer of complication to the idea of going back. They would have to deal with that when the time came, though.

“So you didn’t call your father or brothers?” Peggy asked. “Nobody knows you were in there?”

“Nobody,” said Toulouse. “Unless somebody saw me. I don’t know.”

“Then take us back there, and we’ll check it out,” Peggy said. “It’s going to be all right, Toulouse. You looked us up, remember, and it said that we get back safely, so it must turn out all right in the end.” At least, Peggy hoped that was how it worked.

“That doesn’t mean it turns out all right for me,” Toulouse said.

She had a point there. “I’m sure it will,” Peggy repeated – although she couldn’t help but think of Anna Jarvis, still alive but robbed of one of the things she’d wanted most in the world, all because she’d gotten involved with Peggy’s work. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. When we find whatever clue Howard and I have left for ourselves, I’m sure it will tell us how to keep you safe.”

“I… I already thought about that,” said Toulouse. She reached across the table and stole Kevin’s can of Dr. Pepper, and gave it a shaky sip. “I looked up where you are now and I tried to call you. And…” She swallowed hard. “You didn’t remember me. I tried to remind you, but you just started babbling about Captain America and how the world had changed. You didn’t know who I was at all, and I had to tell you my name over and over.”

Peggy had a sudden memory of her grandfather. He’d been a very sweet man who’d enjoyed telling fantastic tales about adventures he pretended to have had on the planet Mars, but towards the end of his life John Carter’s memory and personality had begun to decay. By the time he was seventy, he’d done very little anymore but sit quietly in a chair staring off into space, and had no longer known who Peggy or her brother Michael were. Did such things run in families? Would Peggy’s father have turned out that way if he’d lived long enough?

“If you’d died on my watch, I would definitely remember you,” Peggy said. “So in all honesty that’s a good sign.”

Toulouse nodded, but she was breathing in shudders. Peggy gently patted her back.

“Uh, excuse me,” said Kevin. “What did any of that mean?”

Toulouse blinked. “You didn’t tell him about the time travel stuff?” she asked.

“The what?” asked Kevin.

“Well, no,” Peggy admitted. “It might be best if we didn’t. You’re not coming with us to Los Angeles, after all.”

“The hell I’m not.” Kevin folded his laptop and stood up. “What if somebody knows I gave you a ride and finds me all alone in the middle of the woods? I don’t wanna get thrown down that pit. Or eaten by Bigfoot,” he added. “At this point I wouldn’t even be surprised if I saw Bigfoot, and with my luck, he would eat me.”

“Don’t worry,” Toulouse said. “I’m pretty sure Bigfoot is a vegetarian.”

#fanfic #agent carter #peggy carter #howard stark

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rousingloki · 5 years

Text

Thoughts: Nintendo VR

Oh Nintendo, you really have outdone yourselves.

So on my last “Thoughts” topic, I explored what Nintendo has done to keep its identity of Nintendo, and how Nintendo has managed to keep it’s core philosophy alive, and to pass on the dream of Mr. Iwata in keeping games affordable, accessible, and most importantly, fun. I mentioned that I noticed all this with Nintendo Labo, and the upcoming VR kit, and it’s that VR kit that I’d like to talk to you all about.

(Note, if you want to start a discussion about this, I more than welcome it, because discussions about this sort of topic are always great to listen to. I think it’s very important to hear other perspectives, and what other people have to say. With that in mind, however; please try not to start a flame war, or attacking other people’s opinions, I did say discuss, not argue. Thanks)

So before I get into the Labo, let’s look back on a little history. Nintendo has been involved with VR, or the realm of 3D gameplay multiple times. It started back with the Famicom, with a device called: Famicom 3D System. (If you don’t care for the history portion just skip ahead 5 paragraphs)

This pair of goggles basically allowed you to have the game right in front of your face, not really making it Virtual Reality, but it was a start I suppose. To compare it to anything, would be Sega’s Segascope 3D glasses. The system was a colossal failure, and only compatible with about 7 games. It would be about 8 years before Nintendo threw their hat into the ring with another Virtual Reality project.

Skip ahead to 1995. Nintendo was dominating the 16-bit market, with their Super Nintendo Entertainment System (Or Super Famicom if you’re from Japan), and they had complete control of the handheld market with the Gameboy. Nintendo wanted an edge though, to fill a gap before the release of the Nintendo 64. Thus was born, the Virtual Boy. (Then known as VR32)

The Virtual Boy was sold as a Virtual Reality console, and it also was deemed part of Nintendo’s “Portable” line of gaming. Most use that term very loosely though because even I, someone who had a Virtual Boy as a kid, could not see this thing as anything being even close to portable. The Virtual Boy also did not boast real Virtual Reality, what it did have, was 3D screening. Using Stereoscope technology, it tricked your eyes into thinking you were seeing true 3D, which worked, but it didn’t have anything like head tracking, and the constant red and black colors, mixed with having your eyes so close to the poor screen meant eye strain, and headaches.

In the end, the Virtual Boy was a catastrophic failure from the start. It was discontinued less than a year after it was released, with only 22 games ever made for it. The Virtual Boy does have a legacy however; and that legacy was picked up in 2011, by the Nintendo 3DS.

The Nintendo 3DS was everything the Virtual Boy wasn’t: Fun. Not only did games happen for console, but it met the many goals that the Virtual Boy didn’t meet: It was portable, had better 3D, was a social console, and had an excellent line of video games made for it. The 3DS still continues today, and even though it’s hard to say if it’s gonna stick around much longer due to the domination of the Switch, the 3DS is an excellent handheld, and loved by many. Although the one thing it didn’t fulfill, was a VR type experience, which brings us to today...

The Nintendo Labo VR Kit.

Being the first “VR” style platform Nintendo has attempted in 24 years, Nintendo is bringing VR to it’s beloved platform: The Nintendo Switch.

Where to begin with this... I guess I’ll just give my first impressions based on all the pics and videos I’ve seen so far. (Here’s a link to the video Nintendo posted on it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOjcbdAU5Gw&t=2s)

So from just the announcement, before a video was even in place, I was immediately excited. I’ve bought every single Labo kit before this, and each one has not disappointed. As someone who’s involved very deeply with STEM, this type of kit is perfect for those looking to get interested in that sort of field, while also having fun, and learning at the same time. I don’t look at the VR as a plaything in the traditional sense, while I do want to have some fun with it, and see what direction Nintendo is taking with it, I’m mostly interested in how everything works, and why everything works about it.

(This is why I will die alone)

When it comes to the games, they’re honestly the least interesting part of the whole experience. While some games (e.g. Piano Studio in the Variety Kit, Adventure in the Vehicle Kit) do have some pull and keep me a bit more interested, the most fun part I’ve had is building them. Anyone who’s played with Lego’s, Bionicle, Gundams, or anything that requires any sort of building, and enjoys that aspect the most, would be absolutely delighted by how satisfying it is to see these creations come to life with each sheet of cardboard.

And once you’ve built them, even if the game doesn’t stay interesting for very long, there’s something very exciting about seeing the Labo work once you start playing the game. The actual reeling in of a fish on the fishing rod, listening to it actually make sounds was something that made me act like a 6 year old kid going fishing with my dad for the first time.

Once you’ve built, and played with the Toy-Cons, you can learn everything there is to know about them.

Ranging from just learning about the Nintendo Switch Hardware on its own, from the Screen to the Joy-Cons, to the actual Labo creations themselves. You can see how the games work, how the Nintendo Switch system is involved, and some general knowledge like fixing the labos is included here as well. As well as how to make your Labo your own, giving customization tips, and what NOT to do if you want to preserve the life of your Labo.

Of course once you’ve learned everything, you can open up the Toy-Con Garage and make your own creations, make your own Labo’s to play with, now that you have the knowledge and tools to make them. It’s what makes the Labo near infinitely re-playable. Ranging from simple games, to instruments, if you have the imagination, I’m sure you can find a way to build it.

After having said all that, let’s get back into the VR kit itself. The VR Kit comes in two different flavors: One with just the Goggles and Blaster, and the other has everything else. Because I’m getting the latter (And will be reviewing it so stay tuned) let’s talk about that one. The Labo comes with 6 different Toy-Con creations: The Goggles, Wind Pedal, Blaster, Bird, Elephant, and Camera.

If we were to go through each one of these, we’d be here forever (Plus I said I’m gonna review it next week, so we’ll do that there) so I’m just gonna say what I feel about the kit as a whole. I absolutely love it. The whole idea of the thing is just fantastic. Not only does it introduce VR at a more affordable yet still fun level, it introduces it to a younger audience, those who are too young to be able to use actual VR systems that were designed with an older audience in mind.

Sure the games look simple, but like I said it’s the experience as a whole, from building the labo, to trying it out, to learning how everything works that makes everything count in the end. Like I said, as someone who’s worked extensively in the STEM field, I’m absolutely delighted to see something like this. It takes the limitations of the switch and expands them to incorporate an entirely new way to play video games. It stretches the field of imagination to new heights, and showcases not only what the Switch as a system can do, but how you can do things with your imagination.

Like the other Labo kits, this one is getting a “garage” where you can create your own games. While you probably won’t be making much out of cardboard, you’re able to make games that would fit with the VR’s idea in mind. From exploration games, to rhythm games, it’s whatever you can think of and get working that makes it so much fun. Plus Nintendo is adding support to Super Mario Odyssey and Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild for free, so that’s a bonus.

Now this isn’t a full fledged review, and I’m gonna take advantage of that to ask a question, why do people give this thing so much hate? Why are people so against Nintendo Labo?

I’ve seen the hatred for Nintendo Labo since the beginning, it shows with the like and dislike bar of the original video that Nintendo posted before the first two kits were even released.

I truly do not understand the flak that the Labo gets. Most people seem to think that the cardboard is made out of 8x11 printer paper that would fall apart the second you tried to play with it, but after getting 15+ hours out of EACH of my Labo kits, I can safely say that they’re surprisingly durable, and none of them have received any real wear or tear to them.

Yet I still don’t understand the hatred towards them, people say you’re paying a huge amount of money for cardboard, even though people are content paying $60 for a piece of plastic and silicon (not even that if they buy a download code) People also don’t look at the fact that the PSVR, which is usually around $250 to buy new (about $350 if you include move controllers) and most of the games are still nothing more than tech demos, ones of huge games like Skyrim, or Borderlands, which you’re expected to pay for, for full price, and even then the games still feel like nothing but glorified tech demos. Maybe I’m just being cynical, maybe I’m just being a Nintendo Fan boy, but it’s something I really just don’t understand.

So yeah, these are all my thoughts on the VR right now, something I’m looking VERY forward to, and has me being all giddy and excited like a 7 year old kid who’s only a week away from Christmas. It’s something that I know will make people happy, and maybe even get more people interested in VR, and the STEM community as well.

Thank you all for reading (And again, please ask away if you have anything you want to tell me, I’d love to hear what other people have to say on this)

#Nintendo #Nintendo Labo #Nintendo Labo VR #Nintendo Switch #Thoughts #Virtual Reality

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haroldslovekitten · 6 years

Note

I have a Niall smut request. He's working out at the same gym as y/n. He's super cocky, which annoys y/n, but he also knows she's attracted to him, because she keeps looking over. So eventually he manages to seduce her and takes her back to the locker room. Then he gets her to dry hump in their underwear and then he gets a BJ. And he dirty talks a lot throughout. You can decide if it's some kind of au Niall or real Niall or what. :)

This was so much fun and quite obviously inspired by our mutual thirst for Niall after those gym pics…Sorry this took a while, I hope it was worth it!

College AU

Warnings: Pure smut

Work Count: ~2.5k

You catch him looking at you with that smug grin on his face and your whole body feels like it’s on fire. He caught you looking. Every single freaking time you’re here, it seems, Niall is here too, all sweaty and sexy and cocky and it’s driving you insane. You’ve never really like Niall much, having gone to the same college as him for a couple of years now, both of you being business management majors and taking a few classes together. He’s always had this confident swagger that drives you insane in both the best and worst of ways. You’ve caught yourself rolling your eyes when he walks into class late, iced drink in hand, sunglasses hiding his probably hungover eyes. And every time, he sees you do it and sends you a smirk and you have to fight the urge to scoff, despite the burning that alights in your abdomen. Now that you’ve been going to the same gym for two months, these interactions have only become more frequent.

With work and school and a decent social life, your physical fitness has taken a bit of a backseat. You’d put on a good 20 lbs in the last year and decided you absolutely needed to get a handle on it and go to the gym. It’s quite obvious that Niall has not had the same struggle. He does his cardio without so much as a single heavy breath, the sweat accumulating on his brow only serving to make him look more sexy, while you turn into a bright red blob with embarrassment and exertion. So, when you catch him looking at you as he’s working on weights, you know for a fact that you look a mess, and are probably practically drooling over him. You turn away quickly and pedal faster on the bike, concentrating a little too hard on the numbers that flicker before you on the machine. It’s when you hear him grunt as he does another rep that your eyes immediately fly back to him and you curse yourself for forgetting your headphones today. In another context, that sound would be absolutely filthy, and when he glances back up at you in the mirror on the wall, catching your agape mouth and obvious yearning gaze, he shoots you a wink and you want to die.

With a groan you turn your attention back to pedalling and decide that you’re done with biking for the day. You wipe down the machine quickly and head to a completely different area of the gym, far away from Niall and his all too knowing glances. You’re just getting into a good groove doing some deadlifts with the barbell and feeling like you’re actually accomplishing something for once when you hear a familiar voice.

“Need a spotter, love?” he asks, knowing damn well you don’t.

You nearly drop the barbell on your feet at the shock of him standing behind you. You stutter out some sort of reply that indicates you don’t want him to spot you, as incoherent as it is, and he giggles lightly and walks away. He sets himself up two stations away from you, using the free weights. His biceps bulge as he works out and once again, it’s like your eyes can’t stay off of him. This time though, he’s watching you constantly. His eyes never leave you except to pick out different weights and your skin, once again, feels like it’s on fire.

There’s only one other person in this room and you’re thankful for his presence. At least with him around, Niall has to be civil, right? You do your best to focus on your workout, slowly moving to areas further and further from Niall, but he, consistently, keeps moving closer. When he gets to the bench press, he stops looking at you, but in true asshole fashion, starts grunting again, as if only to spite you. Even the other guy in the room seems put off by Niall’s grunting and leaves with a funny look towards him. You would laugh, if you weren’t so ridiculously turned on by him.

“Would you please stop? It’s distracting,” you whisper yell to him once the man leaves.

“A good kind of distracting?” he replies once he puts the bar back on the stand.

“No. Just distracting. Please stop. And stop looking at me too,” you say, rolling your eyes and looking away.

“I know you like it. If you want me to stop lookin, you should stop checking me out when you think I can’t see you,” the smirk on his face is unbearable and he wiggles his eyebrows to prove his point.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I? Cause from where I’m standing, you’ve been staring at me everytime we’re both here for the last two months. And I can see you rubbing your legs together right now. I could help you with that, you know?” he says and the anger and yearning inside you war with each other.

How dare he say that? You’re not even doing that…are you? And even if you are, it’s none of his fucking business.

“Fuck off,” you spit and walk away from him.

In the many mirrors up in the gym, you watch him watch you walk away, biting his bottom lip and unabashedly looking at your ass. You don’t know why you’re simultaneously repulsed by and attracted to him. Sure, he’s cocky and kind of an asshole, but there’s no denying you’d love to do some questionably filthy things to him. Without your permission, his grunts replay in your brain and you can’t help but think about how lovely it would be if you were the one making him make those noises. You find yourself wondering how he tastes, the weight of his heavy, probably thick cock on your tongue. You almost whimper at the mere thought of it. And he’s right, you are unconsciously rubbing your legs together, the wetness pooling between your folds undeniable. With a huff of anger and defeat, you spin on your heel, marching back towards him where he stands, unmoved.

He quirks an eyebrow and grins knowingly as you walk back towards him and you kind of want to slap that grin off his face and then kiss him hard. Maybe you’ll do just that. Your resolve and nervousness bring you to face him sooner than you expected and before you know it, your lips are inches from his, the tension between the two of you making it hard to breathe.

“I don’t even like you so don’t get any ideas. Just…fuck. You’re so annoying,” you grumble, breaking eye-contact with him and losing your nerve. He understands you well enough though.

“Follow me,” he says simply and you do as you’re told.

He walks quickly to the locker room and you struggle to keep up, thanking god that the gym is pretty empty right now. You look around nervously, but no one is paying any attention as you two slip into the men’s locker room. He heads immediately to one of the changing stalls and you follow him in. He locks the door behind you and before you can even get a word out, he’s got you pressed against the wall, and his lips are on yours. You don’t allow yourself to think as your body reacts naturally, gripping his dark, perfectly styled hair and holding him close as the kiss becomes more heated, more passionate, full of anger, frustration, and need.

“You’re a right needy girl, aren’t ya?” he asks as he pulls away and goes to mark up your neck.

You can only mewl in response, boldly reaching down and cupping him over his gym shorts. You squeeze him, not very gently, and he bucks willingly into your hand. His hands immediately move to the bottom of your shirt, yanking it off of your body and you do the same to him. Your hands are shaking with need, but you keep them moving so he doesn’t notice. Your fingers burn every place you touch him, and his hands are strong and rough, squeezing you, pulling you closer, scraping his nails against you. It’s almost as if he wanted this as badly as you did.

“You fucking hate me don’t you?” he asks as he sucks a hickey into the swell of your left breast and presses the palm of his hand against your pelvic bone.

“Yes,” you moan.

“But you want my cock, too, don’t you baby?”

“Yes,” is the only proper response and you give it willingly.

He reaches up and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, sliding them down your body. He pulls away from you briefly only to walk backwards toward the bench in the stall. Quickly, he slides his shorts down and you can see him straining against the fabric of his white calvins. He brushes his palm against himself, hissing when he does, and sits down. His hands grab your hips roughly and pull you to him. Understanding, you place your knees on either side of him on the bench until you’re straddling him, rubbing your clothed center against his hard cock.

You tuck your face into his neck and he brushes your hair out from between the two of you with surprising gentleness, giving him room to suck and lick on your earlobe as you grind against him. His fingers press into the skin of your hips and will probably leave bruises later, but he uses his hands to guide your movements, helping you grind down on him. You feel how hard he is beneath you and the mixture of your arousal, sweat, and his leaking cock has the space between you filthily wet.

“Such a needy little slut,” he groans into your ear and bucks up into you.

His stubble is rubbing against your cheek and you’re sure your skin is red, but the roughness of it, the animalistic feeling of not caring how rough it is or how you’ll look after spurs you on and you moan when your clit presses particularly hard against the tip of his cock.

“Gonna come from just rubbing on me, love?” he asks, his voice deeper than usual.

You bite into his neck in response.

“Proper minx you are, never would have known how greedy you were,” he comments and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You press down on him harder and he lets go of one of your hips only to smack your ass hard.

“Come for me,” he demands, and your hips stutter, their rhythm breaking as your legs go weak and you feel the hot white fire coursing through your body. You moan and whimper into his ear and he keeps his hands on your hips, rocking your through it. Your toes are curling, your breath feels impossible to catch, and the orgasm pulls every ounce of energy from your body.

For a moment, he is gentle, running his hands up and down your back, leaving small kisses on your neck and shoulder, but once you’re breathing seems to have calmed slightly, his hands work to move you off of him.

“On your knees for me, baby girl,” he says and though the words are filthy, the way he says them is even filthier.

Sleepily, as if in a trance, you do as he says and settle between his legs on the cool tile floor. He brushes his hands through your hair and grips a good chunk of it at the crown of your head so he can control the way you move. His other hand reaches down and pushes the waistband of his boxers to just below his balls. He is a ruddy red color, and you can practically see him throbbing. His uncut tip is leaking and almost instinctively you lean forward and run your tongue across it, tasting him. He hisses at the contact. The hand not in your hair grips the base of his cock and he swipes his tip across your lips, leaving a trail of his precum.

“Open up for me,” he asks and you do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out as well. “Such a good slut,” he praises you as he slaps his cock against your tongue and groans. You close your eyes happily, the taste and sensation like a lovely treat after everything. “Open your eyes.”

He tilts your head back and slowly slides his cock into your mouth while his ocean blue eyes stare into yours. You take him willingly gagging slightly, but pushing through it. You lick at the underside of his cock and he grunts that beautiful grunt you’d been dying to cause him to make. You nearly smile around him and he notices.

“You love this don’t you, when I shove my cock down your throat?”

You nod as much as you can.

“Fuck, you’re filthy,” he moans and starts to thrust into you.

You watch him as well as you can, tilting his head back, his thick neck straining as he grunts and moans, using your mouth to pleasure himself. When you need to breathe, you tap against his thigh and he pulls back. If you weren’t so mesmerized with the fact that you’re deepthroating him, you’d probably marvel at how well the two of you communicate despite your loathing for one another. But you’ll think on that, later, now, you take a deep breath before he’s plunging back into you greedily.

Look who’s fucking needy now, you think to yourself smugly as you swallow around his cock and he whimpers, actually whimpers.

“Such a pretty mouth,” he comments and almost as if to prove just how pretty your mouth could be, you push forward until your nose brushes against the small tufts of his hair just above his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans and holds his cock there. “Gonna make me explode, love.”

You moan around him enthusiastically, dying to feel his cum spill down your throat.

He tangles his other hand in your hair, both hands holding you steady as he fucks your throat. You gag around him, your eyes watering, but you don’t mind. You need it. His thrusts stop and you feel his thighs shake as he moans loudly, not caring who might hear. You taste string after string of his hot load and swallow it greedily.

“That’s right, swallow it all, love,” he moans.

When he’s finally finished, you pull off of him with a pop and a smile.

“Knew you wanted it, didn’t I?” he laughs, carefully tucking his sensitive cock back into his boxers.

“Shut up,” you reply with a smirk, going back to your mildly angry self.

You grab your shirt and leggings and quickly pull them onto your body as he remains seated, catching his breath.

When you’re done, he reaches out to smack your ass one last time.

“Think we should make this our regular workout instead of that stupid bike you do every week,” he suggests.

“In your fucking dreams,” you tell him, rolling your eyes, but a smile plays at the corner of your mouth. That might not be an entirely bad idea…

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