#trying to force him to put together the piano when that was nowhere in the agreement

[banannabethchase]

Please be kind to retail workers. For the love of all things good in this world, be kind to retail workers. If you're in a position where it's safe for you to do so, step in if another customer is going off on a retail worker. People only behave badly when they think they can get away with it, and a bystander going, "Hey, is that really necessary?" can make a world of difference.

Retail workers, you DO NOT deserve the abuse thrown at you by the elitist, pompous, entitled customers who demand things of you that you aren't paid to do. I'm so sorry people are so cruel and it's wrong.

[demonio-fleurs]

the headcanon ask game!

for both sabo and koala:

🏳️‍🌈🧸🎶💝❤️‍🔥😶

Send in a character or characters and an icon and I’ll give you...

i am so sorry this took so long btw, a mixture of me being busy and also having to come up with these on the spot made it take longer than i wanted it to!

these also range from "simple and straight forward" to "mini fics/drabbles" haha, sorry for the inconsistency

🏳️‍🌈 A sexuality headcanon

they're both bisexual, although koala is (in my opinion) far more likely to be vocal about it than sabo, who is too busy with work to think about relationships.

koala realized she was bisexual when she met betty for the first time, and no i will not elaborate further. meanwhile sabo has just always kinda known that gender doesn't matter for him.

(more under the cut!)

🧸 A headcanon about their childhood

one day, while traveling the seas with the sun pirates, their ship was attacked by slavers looking for a profit. they were arrogant, and believed they could easily take out the group of fishmen on the ship.

koala doesn't remember much about that night, except for how frightened she was, as the ship had been caught up in a cyclone right before being attacked.

but she does remember huddling in a corner of the ship, wide eyes staring as a man came rushing towards her. she remembers jinbei, stepping out of nowhere and using Samehada Shotei against the slaver, and how the sheer force of it was enough to cause the man to be tossed across the room, knocking him out. jinbei then turned to her, and had her crawl onto his back for safety until they could ensure there was no one left on the ship.

that memory stayed burned into her for the rest of her life, and the day that hack told her that she'd finally perfected the Samehada Shotei technique was one of the happiest moments of her life.

for the longest time, sabo's childhood was not defined by memories, but rather feelings and vague nightmares. he remembered there being a great, terrible fire, and the fear he felt when he saw it. he remembered the feeling of a bird, trapped in it's cage and wanting so desperately to fly free. so many dark emotions, so many nights waking up in a cold sweat, gripping onto his sheets.

but sometimes, there were positive thoughts and dreams from his childhood. a song played in a bar on a mission might bring back the memory of tall, towering trees amidst a humid jungle. koala clinging to him in the middle of a hot night brought back the feeling of creaky wooden boards beneath him, and the starry night sky above him.

it wouldn't be until after ace's death that he gained the context necessary to understand those lingering childhood memories, but context didn't make his heart feel any less heavy in his chest.

🎶 A headcanon about music

one day while laying low in a bar and trying to plan out their next steps on an important mission assigned to them by dragon, koala began singing along to an old song that was being played on a dingy old piano in the corner. to her surprise, sabo began humming along with it, despite it being a song that was usually only known by pirates.

after their mission, she sat down with him and sang the lyrics in the hopes of triggering some memories from his past, but the only thing that came to mind for sabo was a warm summer night in a jungle.

later on, he'd put together that he must have heard the song from luffy, who taught both him and ace the lyrics to "prepare them" for their life as a pirate.

💝 A headcanon about their love language

sabo is a very "physical touch" person, when they are alone he is constantly either in their lap, or clinging onto them, almost as if when he lets go of them, they'll disappear forever.

koala, on the other hand, is more of a "quality time" type of person. to her, so long as she is near the person she loves, that is quality time, even if they aren't doing the same thing. this doesn't mean that she isn't physically affectionate, in fact she can be quite clingy when she's worried or upset, but that isn't her primary love language.

❤️‍🔥 A romantic headcanon

oh gosh, haha, i'm honestly one of the worst people for romance but here we go

one of sabo's favorite things to do when coming home from a mission is to put his head in koala's lap and fall asleep. almost every outside observer wonders when koala will get fed up with him and kick him out of her lap, especially since she'll complain about it to anyone who will listen, but hack knows that koala secretly loves it. when she thinks no one is looking she'll often run her fingers through his golden locks, and simply enjoy the downtime with him.

😶 A random headcanon!

sabo has fangs like a dragon 3:

koala has an incredibly high spice tolerance, but primarily bc she enjoys food that has strong flavors.

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.” 

[gyusbambi]

humph; han seojun (pt 2)

 click here for humph masterlist!

part 1, part 3

story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au

synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?

note: juyeong is reader’s brother and is not related to the lims, jugyeong doesn’t exist in this story. humph! is a story inspired by pentagon's "humph! / 접근금지". originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4k

after the encounter, you try your best to avoid han seojun. everytime you spot him walking in the hallways, your feet start moving faster. every so often you won’t allow yourself to put all of your books into your locker and end up carrying the heavy things during the whole day. why does his locker have to be next to yours anyway?

seojun might be academically not the best, but he sure isn’t dumb.

clearly, he notices how you turn around and walk into a complete different classroom whenever he makes an appearance in the same hallway. he also notices how you always walk around with piles of books, never taking the chance to place them into your locker, since his own happens to be next to yours.

one day he spots lee suho helping you with carrying your books. smiling, you thank your friend and hand him over some of them. while heading towards the classroom together, you talk about the upcoming school trip. unfortunately, you’re not quite able to see what’s in front of you since the pile of books cover your sight slightly. yet, as seojun walks past suho, his shoulder hits suho’s which makes the books fall out of his hands with a loud thud. 

quickly, you help suho collect the books on the floor and don’t fail to notice him muttering,

“what’s his problem?” 

_

it’s an entertaining thursday evening as you spend time in the karaoke bar with your classmates. kang soojin, who happens to be suho’s childhood friend, asked you and suho to tag along with them. first, lee suho declined the kind offer but you luckily managed to convince him. 

the noraebang is filled with laughter when taehoon, sua’s boyfriend, sings his lungs out to his favorite song. after your eyes wander from the couple too soojin and then too suho, a smile forms on your face. taehoon’s arm is around suho’s shoulder as they both sing a ballad. you’re happy that suho opens up to others more and you enjoy being able to spend time with these four, feeling like you’re making new friends.

however, it feels a little strange that seojun and chorong aren’t around. you remember how you would go to the karaoke bar every saturday, sometimes it was only seojun and you. secretly, you adored listening to his voice.

suddenly, the notification sound of your phone wakes you up from your short trance. 

juyeong: why is seojun hyung’s bike in front of our house?

it’s a message from your younger brother. why hasn’t seojun picked up his bike yet?

while the others continue singing, you excuse yourself and walk outside in order to call your younger brother. patiently, you walk back and forth, waiting for him to answer the call. you sigh when he doesn’t pick up and are about to dial his number again.

before you can do so, you jump and let out a yelp at a familiar voice,

“y/n?”

it’s han seojun.

frightened you turn around, palm pressed to your heart.

“you scared me!” closing your eyes, you let out a relieved breath.

“you’re here too?” seojun ignores your shocked reaction.

“yes.”

“with whom?”

taken aback, you stay silent for a short moment, not knowing how to respond. clearly, you’re aware that seojun, for some reason, isn’t on good terms with suho. therefore, you wouldn’t want him to start a conflict with the innocent boy right here, at the karaoke bar.

“uh, i’m here with soojin a-”

abruptly you trail off when you spot lee suho himself at the entrance, searching for you while his glance shifts through the place. luckily, seojun’s back is facing the entrance. the boy in front of you waits for you to continue but is caught off guard when you pull him around the corner, before suho can find you.

“what are you doing?” seojun questions with lines forming between his brows.

nervously, you try to come up with an excuse while avoiding his gaze, checking behind his back if suho saw you, 

“your motorcycle-”

“look who we have over here! seojunnie!”

at the sound of lee sungyong and his gang you stop talking and observe an annoyed expression appear on seojun’s face.

when you turn around to face them, they let out surprised laughs,

“y/n, long time no see!”

“why do you have to here.” seojun groan.

soon, you sense that something bad could happen any moment which makes you dart your glance around the area nervously, looking for a possible way out. timidly, you draw your mouth into a straight line before your fingers firmly grip around seojun’s, pulling him away from the others without thinking twice. the young boy seems shocked by your actions as his legs adjust to your pace.

in no time, you find yourself running away from lee sungyong and his gang, your hand still clutched on seojun’s wrist. adrenaline courses through your veins as you pass several stores, pushing people out of your way. to the sound of lee sungyong shouting your names, you keep your breath steady, push harder and run even faster. 

seojun himself forces his legs to push harder, his lungs straining. his breath thickening, he steals a quick glance at you. the wind whips your hair away from your face as you face forwards with an uneasy look. his mind is frantic with thoughts: how is it possible to move this fast?

yet, at this great speed, you can barely see a few feet ahead of you. your feet nearly slip from beneath you when your shoes pound heavily across the ground and mud splashes up your leg. 

noticing this, seojun rapidly takes your hand into his own without slowing down and takes the lead. since the boy is familiar with this dark area, he sprints around the next corner. the shoutings behind you don’t stop, demanding you to stop running. after sprinting for solid minutes, you finally hide behind a wall when seojun finds a way to trick the gangsters.

heart pounding faster than ever, you’re still concerned that they will find you. seojun squats down next to you, his legs tired from all the running. when your surroundings are safe, you swiftly stand up while your breath comes in short gasps. 

claiming you’re tired would be an understatement. you are exhausted. still you feel relieved that you could escape the group of boys.

moments later seojun sighs with annoyance behind you. 

“why did you have to drag me away?” the boy complains before you turn around to face him with a frown on your face.

it’s dark and quiet outside, indicating that it’s probably really late. the air is cold which makes you shiver for a moment. when you wait for him to continue instead of answering, seojun groans, not believing that you seriously don’t understand what he’s trying to point out.

“they’ll think it’s weird of us to run away like cowards. ah, you’re really dumb.”

“i’m dumb?”, you raise your voice with squinted eyes before he can leave,

“you’re the one who believes fish are wet.”

“fish are wet.” the boy slowly turns around to face you again.

“they’re not because they’re surrounded by water. once they get out of-”

“it’s water, y/n!”

it’s not worth arguing with someone as dumb as him.

with a mirthless smile you shake your head,

“you’re the dumb one.”

after that you leave to make your way home, completely forgetting to ask seojun about his motorcycle. the boy himself watches you walk away with a little worry. shouldn’t he walk you home at this time? ah, never mind. 

and so he walks home by himself, not used to the fact that his motorcycle is away from him.

_

the next day in school seems like a regular one. fortunately, you were able to get enough sleep this time. thankfully, seojun’s motorcycle was no longer parked in front of your house this morning. not expecting anything spectacular to happen, you enter the classroom with several books in your arms, like always. however, as soon as some of your classmates notice you, they walk to your seat with widen eyes.

“y/n! where were you last night?”, soojin asks you with a calm tone.

sua hits your shoulder playfully and whines, “do you know how worried we were?!”

oh, no. you completely forgot to contact them after your small adventure with han seojun.

“poor suho looked everywhere for you.”, taehoon pouts, his glance darting to suho, who was sitting on his seat peacefully.

after hearing taehoon’s words, you turn your head to the innocent boy with regret written on your face,

“i’m so sorry.”

“don’t worry, y/n. we’re glad you’re okay.” suho smiles at you as the others agree.

the day passes normally, like you predicted, until lunch break. 

considering kim chorong is nowhere to be seen, and you’re trying to stay away from han seojun, you sit next to you other friends during lunch. the same people from the karaoke bar talk about their plans after school, when suddenly everyone looks up to the sight of han seojun’s. his loud steps and irritated expression catches all the attention in the canteen.

however, you feel concerned when you’re approached by him, your heart beating a little faster.

“yah, y/l/n y/n.” 

you gulp when he carefully talks in a controlled voice, glaring at you through his cat like eyes,

“come out.”

the whole lunch room gasps with surprise at his statement, anticipating on what will happen next. just when he grabs your arm to drag you out of the room, lee suho steps between you both, slapping seojun’s grip away from your arm,

“what do you think you’re doing?”, he speaks with a low voice.

“you better stay out of this.”

han seojun hisses and holds on your uniform this time, pulling you away from the others.

your head is filled with endless questions when you’re forced to follow him out. what have you done wrong? the corridor is empty and silent as the boy in front of you pounds his hand on the wall behind you, leaving only a small gap between your faces. your back is pressed against the cold wall. 

blown away by the sudden closeness you swallow dryly, unable to wet your parched throat. his sudden change in mood slightly intimates you.

“you think you can piss me off easily?”

you’re taken aback when he snaps.

“wh-what are you talking about?” nervously, you stammer while excessively blinking.

after that, seojun laughs with edge, eyes leaving yours for a moment to remain his calm. why are you pretending to not know? seconds later he bends down to your height, now even closer than before. eyes looking deeply into yours, he tries to read you. yet, the only thing he’s able to see is your confusion.

“do you believe giving my keys to that bastard is funny?”

“i have no clue what you’re talking about.” 

luckily, the worry in you melts down a little but you’re still confused.

“you’re really starting to get on my nerves now. this morning lee sungyong came to me with these, and my damaged bike.”

frustrated, seojun takes his keys out of his jacket-pocket and holds them up for you too see. a line forms between your brows when you stare at the keys, waiting for him to continue,

“and what do i have to do with that?”

“are you kidding me?! you’re the person who had my keys the whole time!” seojun hisses, his voice raising which causes you to flinch lightly,

“my bike was parked in front of your house, remember? you gave my keys to that bastard!”

“i didn’t have your keys!” finally you defend yourself, slowly getting annoyed by his behavior.

“you did, i gave them to you last week!”

seojun’s face is still insanely close to yours.

“you did, but i gave them back to you.” you look into his eyes with confusion.

“what?” seojun’s expression reflects your own.

“i-i put them into your pocket. didn’t you notice?”

oh no. he absolutely didn’t.

“when did you do that?”

“the day after you gave them to me. i thought you would notice.” you mumble the last part quietly, suddenly feeling like it’s your fault.

precisely, you remember how you put seojun’s keys back in his jacket, which was hanging on his seat when he wasn’t around. taking the opportunity, you decided to quickly put them in there without having to face seojun for it, since you weren’t on good terms. 

all this time you wondered why the boy wouldn’t pick up his bike. it was standing there whole time, which made you believe that maybe he truly wanted to quit riding his motorcycle.

however, it turns out that he never noticed. how did the others find his keys, though? was it your fault? perhaps you should have simply handed them to him personally instead of being stubborn.

seojun sighs with frustration and runs his hand through his hair,

“how did they get them then?”

suddenly it all clicks. everything makes sense when you remember every detail from last night. with unease your eyes widen,

“the jacket you wore last night... it was the navy one, right?”

he thinks for a moment before nodding, waiting for you to continue.

“i put the keys in that one. maybe it slipped out while we were running?”

you glance around, not focusing on anything as you try to avoid his eyes. this doesn’t feel good at all.

a momentary look of discomfort crosses seojun’s face. he realizes that you’re possibly right and that he shouldn’t have accused you to do something like that. the fact that he already messed up by telling suho to stay away from you makes everything even worse. he feels guilty when he catches you looking around nervously. it’s not your fault.

right when he’s about to form words, two students run past him which causes him to stumble over his feet in shock. on the spur of the moment, his body is pressed on yours. at the sudden contact, you let out a small gasp when you notice that you’re stuck between him and the wall. one of his palms is still pressed against the wall behind you, while the other one holds on your shoulder to steady himself.

both of you look up at the same time, embarrassed by his sudden actions. when your eyes meet, your heart pounds against your ribs as if trying to reach thousand beats. it’s so intense that you internally pray for him not to hear it. his face is only a few centimetres away from yours which makes you freeze on spot. somehow you feel his breath on your cheek and you think you’re about to lose it. 

why are you so nervous suddenly?

why does his gaze make your heart beat so fast?

carefully, you study seojun’s face. his dark hair partly falls over his forehead, his eyes now relaxed, cheeks tinted a bright shade of pink.

in fact, seojun is blushing profusely. just like you, he’s taken aback by the closeness and can’t help but gaze into your eyes deeply. he too, feels strangely nervous, a little too nervous if truth be told.

after what seems like seconds, you can’t stand it anymore and forcefully hit his forehead with your head, which makes him stumble backwards.

probing the pained area, seojun winces, “what the hell?!”

“i-i told you i didn’t give them your keys!”, you decide to come up with that instead of showing how the boy effected you so easily,

“you always put the blame on me.” after mumbling that you rush back to the canteen in super speed, hoping for your poor heart to calm down.

seojun only watches you sprint away, unaware of how he made you feel. rubbing his forehead painfully, he shakes his head in order to get rid of his thoughts.

there’s no way. i should probably just see a doctor.

_

time passes quickly and finally the important day has come: the school trip. everyone from your grade was talking about the upcoming event the whole time, planing several games and activities. for you it seems nice too but since you’re avoiding seojun, which also automatically makes it harder to see chorong, you worry how you’re going to spend the whole time on your own. it’s a bummer that lee suho refused to join the trip. certainly, you attempted to convince your friend but unsuccessful. 

as soon as you arrive at the school gates, where everyone is already waiting with their suitcases, you feel uneasy. nearing the others, you concern about the fact that you’ll probably have to sit alone in the bus. yet, when you finally approach the others you spot suho standing next to soojin, sua and taehoon. instantly, a smile appears on your face and you greet them, adding that you’re happy for suho to join them. glancing around, it doesn’t take you long to see han seojun next to kim chorong. without looking at them for too long, you focus back on your other friend group with little uncertainty. 

one by one, students enter the bus after putting their suitcases into the bus trunk. for some reason you happen to be the last person to enter the bus. after putting your luggage into the trunk, you’re ready to go inside. yet, out of nowhere chorong appears in front of you with puppy eyes, begging for you to pack his snacks into your backpack, since his own is already full. not thinking about it too much, you agree and start placing them into your bag. chorong smiles with satisfaction and thanks you before his eyes check behind him. he winks at sua and gives her a sign after making sure you’re not paying attention to him.

sua then pushes her boyfriend and soojin inside when nobody is left, leaving chorong and you alone. eventually you manage to push in all the snacks into your bag. you’re surprised when you see that everyone is already in the bus and follow chorong inside as well. 

as soon as you enter, suho finds your eyes and waves at you, indicating that he saved you a seat next to him. happily, you nod and wait for the others in front of you to take their seats. 

you fail to notice chorong’s eyes widen when he stops in front of you, not allowing you to sit next to lee suho. sua understands the situation and slightly pushes kang soojin towards the empty seat next to suho. 

oh, well.

both of your friends exchange surprised looks. however, seconds later soojin smiles at the boy next to him, starting a conversation.

as a matter of fact, you feel upset. disappointed, you move on, eyes not leaving chorong’s back. who are you going to sit next to now? 

when the boy in front eventually arrives at the very back, you’re concerned. surprisingly, kim chorong takes the seat behind han seojun, leaving the last seat, which was next to seojun, for you.

han seojun doesn’t bother looking up, as he’s focused on his phone. clearing your throat, you request,

“chorong-ah, change seats with me.” 

“nah, i like this seat.” stubbornly, he crosses his arms across his chest, head leaning against the window with closed eyes.

the short conversation catches seojun’s attention and he looks up with curiosity. after taking a look at the filled seats his eyes land and you. he’s surprised when he notices that you have to take seat next to him.

letting out a quiet sigh, you give chorong one last glare before sitting next to seojun. this is either going to be really awkward or provoking.

of course, once again you don’t notice chorong peeking at the both of you before giving sua and taehoon a thumbs up, content that their plan worked successfully.

“are you sure this is a good idea?” taehoon whispers to his girlfriend,

“they look like they’ll throw hands at each other any moment.”

“ ah, don’t worry. they’ll make up sooner than you think.” sua takes a quick glimpse of you plugging in your earpods without exchanging any words with the boy next to you.

but sua was wrong.

half an hour already passes and you still haven’t spoken any word. although, there‘s a small desire of talking to you in seojun, he can‘t make himself form the right words. 

right when chorong is about to lose hope and fall asleep, something finally happens.

feeling tired from all the packing last night, you sense your eyelids getting heavier and you’re struggling to keep them open. nonetheless, you’re no longer able to do so and you fall asleep instantly.

out of the blue seojun feels your head resting on his shoulder. the boy is dumbstruck when his eyes widen, holding in his breath for a moment. his body shuts down and he doesn’t know how to react when his posture stiffens. besides that, he feels the skin on his shoulder tingle. 

seojun almost curses under his breath when his heart races once again. this time, there’s a fluttering in his stomach as well, causing him to go speechless. from the corner of his eye, he observes your expression. a slight frown forms on your face, hair covering parts of it, lips in a small pout. 

no matter what you do, you look so effortlessly... good. it doesn’t make a difference to him if you’re annoyed, confused, happy or simply tired. he always notices himself looking at you the same way, with adoring eyes. attempting to ignore it, he chose to tease you, not daring to ever show you. 

he knew he went to far and feels stupid for his actions. yet, why doesn’t he just apologize? perhaps he doesn’t want to accept the fact that you mean much more to him. perhaps he’s afraid he’ll never mean more to you.

still asleep, you unknowingly move your head closer to seojun’s chest, feeling more comfortable this way. after that, he feels your arm wrap around his torso, almost snuggling him.

the boy’s heart melts at the sight of you. although his heart feels like exploding, he doesn’t want to admit that he kinda enjoys the skin-ship with his you. right when he’s about to run his hand through your hair, the sound of a camera catches his attention.

he looks up to find sua taking a polaroid picture, chorong awing at the sight of his two friends sharing a moment.

“aw, you guys are so cute!” sua jumps up and down, while handing seojun the polaroid picture.

suddenly seojun gets aware of his surroundings and the situation he finds himself in. he blinks a few times before moving his shoulder purposely while coughing, making your head fall down in a swift move.

before it hits his lap, you open your eyes and rub them with a displeased expression,

“what happened?”, you ask with a low voice, completely clueless. 

“why- why do you fall asleep on my shoulder? that’s so uncomfortable. get a pillow or something!”

seojun stammers in the beginning, eyes not able to meet your tired ones. your friends sigh with annoyance and return to their seats, disappointed by seojun’s change in mood.

“sorry.” after rubbing your eyes, you steal a short glance at seojun. you’re slightly embarrassed and fix your hair while sitting up properly.

the boy only shrugs, quickly hiding the polaroid in the pocket inside of his jacket before you can see it.

seemingly, this trip is not going to be easy for han seojun.

little does he know, this was only the beginning of cupid chorong’s plan.

_

to be continued...

[tarosin]

the great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo ranboo & others are mentioned - tommy won’t go home

this is part 14 to the great adventures series

an: I tried, days are a social construction on the tarosin blog… also i’m back baby <3

from the moment you were forced awake by tubbo streaming with ranboo, Tommy began sending several messages as in his own words you ‘weren’t answering him quick enough’, probably because you had only just woken up and had no idea what day or time it was.

Tommy: y/n

Tommy: y/n were going out soon I've decided so answer me

Tommy: y/n wake up

y/n: heh? I’m going nowhere I’m tired

Tommy: I’m sending you a ticket make sure you meet me there

it was around now you had the feeling you were going to be stuck with Tommy for a while and you had no idea what to expect. an hour later tubbo stopped streaming so you took this as an opportunity to say your goodbyes to tubbo and ranboo explaining you had no idea what was happening as Tommy refused to explain but you’d probably be back later so they don’t lock you outside like last time

“don’t smirk at me ranboo just because you’re tall doesn’t mean I can’t take you down”

“mhm sure yep”

“y/n you’re going to be late we’ll see you later”

soon enough you were with Tommy who finally decided to inform you of what was happening

“we’re going to go annoy George”

“great idea Tommy let’s go”

the pair of you stood at the door waiting for George to answer, the look on George's face is something you’ll never forget.

“Hello Tommy, is that y/n what are you doing here”

“Nice to see you too… the fuck”

a few minutes later you and Tommy were sat next to George when you found a rubber duck and started making it squeak annoying the others well that was until Tommy took it and started doing the exact same thing you were doing

“I now understand why you looked pissed George”

during the stream, you were sat in between the pair George looked at you and you nodded. a few seconds later George threw the rubber duck hitting Tommy, the pair of you left not long after that event and made your way to the hotel after calling tubbo to explain what was happening.

the next day you and Tommy met up with tubbo ranboo and George at a shopping centre where you were all almost immediately met with several people asking for photos and the chance to talk to you all, you hid behind ranboo until the crowd grew smaller. it didn’t take long for everyone to notice the piano before you had time to process what just happened tubbo ran to the piano dragging you with him accidentally pushing ranboo in the process

“SORRY RANBOO”

the pair of you began playing the piano Tommy joining shortly after. time flew by the five of you spent the rest of your time shopping and just enjoying each other’s company, before you knew it, it was time to get the train. you laughed at tubbo falling asleep on the window however karma quickly caught up as you ended up falling asleep on ranboos shoulder ranboo laughed quietly to himself not wanting to wake up you or tubbo

“I swear its always y/n and tubbo who fall asleep”

“its been a long day y/n couldn’t sleep in the hotel they kept mentioning something about ghosts I don’t know man they must have been watching too many horror films”

“mhm probably”

soon enough you were with the others, minx quickly pulled you into a hug

“Nice tattoo”

“I did it for money it was a sub-goal”

you and tubbo stood with Tommy looking at the ferret

“why’s it so long”

“tubbo does it look like I study zoology I play Minecraft for a living”

the next day you were at the beach, having only had a few hours of sleep the previous night it was safe to say you weren’t in the best mood, you sat next to ranboo occasionally falling in and out of sleep, ranboo kept an arm around you pulling you into his side making sure you were safe and didn’t hit your head on the rocks when you fell asleep. you were woken up by tubbo walking on something which he clearly shouldn’t be. eventually, you all made it back to tubbos house, Tommy and tubbo were in the kitchen while ranboo practised for mcc and you were asleep in the room you had been sharing with ranboo whilst he’s in the Uk.

the next day you all went out on another adventure, at this point you had no idea what was happening but you just went with it. you and Tommy chased a bird telling him about the subscribe button and giving him the name ‘funny boy’

“Why does that bird look just extremely anxious”

“because we’re too cool ranboo”

“maybe we should give him another name than funny boy”

“Charles”

it was at this point you all decided to leave poor Charles alone as it was pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with you.

the three of you made your way to the train station forgetting that the school students would be there, a few minutes later the three of you were swarmed by several students all trying to talk to you all.

“I think we might have got on when the schools are here”

“so thankful you pointed that out boo I thought we were being mobbed by several people cosplaying as school students”

“hi everyone hopefully no one has covid”

you backed away from the crowd moving closer to ranboo

“I bet tubbos really glad he chose not to come”

you tried to avoid the crowd by getting on the train, this failed miserably. people were excited to meet the people they look up to they were all determined to sit with you all on the train taking up the seats around you all, the three of you spent a lot of the train ride talking to them, unlike ranboo and Tommy you ignored the comments aimed at the three of you not wanting to get involved after all it was rather overwhelming so many people talking loudly at once, you ended up moving seats and had a quiet conversation with someone from your community, around half an hour later you were at your destination and said goodbye before joining Tommy and ranboo at wills. the three of you sat on the floor listening to will and the others practice. it’s pretty clear Tommy has a habit of finding things as you turned around to see him with a puppet of a shark pretending to bite you

“Tommy what are you doing”

“bye y/n scream it’s going to get you”

“ah”

realising you weren’t going to scream he began telling joe, Wilbur and David to scream.

after spending time with the others and having a quick trip to the beach you Tommy and ranboo ended up at the shop recording the three of you on the security camera

“If you take a picture from there 50p”

you looked at ranboo tilting your head in confusion even though he was wearing a mask and sunglasses he was clearly equally as confused, he pulled you into his side noticing you were clearly starting to get anxious, you hated confrontation even though it turned out to be a joke it still shook you up a little bit

“I'm only joking my friend…but I did get them”

“you did we took it serious”

“aye you did”

the three of you walked away Tommy still laughing

“he scared me”

after a long day, you all went back to tubbos, you and ranboo decided to end the night early, the pair of you made your way to the shared room. you both spent a few minutes talking about mcc and how you were both going to win and coming up with new strategies. you must have fallen asleep mid-conversation as you didn’t remember seeing Tommy come into the room last night yet you were woken up by him complaining that ranboo playing mcc woke him up.

after getting ready you sat planning an adventure with tubbo

“So where do you wanna go bo”

“We should do something really cool”

“l hope you know that wasn’t helpful”

“pumpkin patch”

“it’s summer where do you think we’re going to find pumpkins…wait tubbo in October I’m taking you to a pumpkin patch it’ll be great we hardly spend time together as a pair near Halloween”

“I promise this year we’ll spend more time together”

your conversation was interrupted by Tommy and ranboo announcing they were ready to go to the beach again. once there tubbo sat arguing with Tommy and ranboo over them needing a life jacket. meanwhile, you had walked away collecting pretty rocks and sea glass putting them in the velvet blue bag covered in embroidered gold stars that dream had sent you as a thank you for the merch you sent him not long ago, you walked along the beach quietly talking to yourself

“ooh jack would like that and I could turn this into a ring for Niki…techno would like this and this would annoy schlatt it's perfect”

you laughed to yourself as you made your way back to the others thinking about schlatts reaction when he sees his gift. when you made your way back you watched Tommy swim over to tubbo leaving ranboo on his own probably waiting for you to return

“did you get any nice rocks then y/n you were out for a while”

“I did. come sit over there with me I’ll show you”

the pair of you sat next to each other away from the sea, ranboo matched your excitement every time you picked the rock you wanted to show him

“you’ve been collecting more than rocks? what’s that”

“I have !! you wanna see?”

“of course I do”

this was a moment neither of you would forget, the pair of you sat enjoying each others company looking at rocks and sea glass you had found on the beach ignoring the world.

taglist:

@denkisclown @emma0nline @fuzzycloudsz @wtfwriter @milkydisaster @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee @orkwardx0 @bearytime @kylobensgirl

[roswellwrites]

>posts for the first time in two years

>it's 5k words of the cowboy from dbd eating p*ssy

>refuses to elaborate

>leaves

Pairing: caleb quinn x reader

Tags: oral, fingering, some dirty talk. Relatively tame considering how overboard i went with this imo

Word count: 5052 but we don’t have to talk about it

When you opened your eyes to find yourself standing in the center of Glenvale’s dusty street, you huffed. 

You were used to it by now, the way the unsettlingly thick fog would seem to appear from nowhere, rolling unnaturally across the clearing as it picked and chose those who would be unfortunate this time.

You remembered holding your breath, your eyes squeezed shut and hands wringing anxiously on your lap, begging wordlessly for the Entity’s fog to pass you over.

And yet here you were.

Still, Glenvale was not the worst case scenario.

The old fort -while not exactly new territory in the Entity’s realm- was still relatively unfamiliar to you, unexplored, eerie and overgrown. 

The air was always strange here, imbued with an undercurrent of dark energy, thrumming heavy and electric as if alive with the misfortune that had befallen the small settlement.

You lazily kicked a pebble in your path, the action unsettling the dust in a way that felt dramatic, even by trial standards. 

You noticed your boots first, like nothing you owned in the real world but familiar to you in a way you couldn’t quite place. But it wasn’t just your shoes that were different. Some time between the campfire and the fog and arriving on the dusty streets of Glenvale, your outfit had changed completely.

The dress you wore was a new addition to your (very limited) wardrobe, short in the front and long in the back, layered but surprisingly light, contradictory to the material’s heavy appearance. The fabric itself was a deep maroon trimmed with black, matte with no hint of shine to it, unmistakably high quality though perhaps not quite authentic to the setting. The dress’s bodice was tight and low cut, flattering, you mused, if the eyeful of your own cleavage you got when you looked down was any indication.

You rubbed your gloved hands together idly, enjoying the smooth feel of the fabric and the small ‘swish swish’ of your fingers as they brushed against one another. 

Beyond that you wore stockings, the material closer to sheer than opaque, lacy bands fitting you snuggly slightly above your knee as they disappeared under the hem of your skirt.

Your boots had a small heel to them, laced tightly, the cuffs extending an inch or so above the natural curve of your ankle.

You clicked your heels together experimentally, more amused than anything else.

A saloon girl outfit.

Fitting.

You stopped in the dusty street, raising your eyes skyward in awe as you admired the beautiful swirling galaxies and twinkling stars, brighter and more defined than you had ever seen them before. You allowed yourself only a moment to enjoy the sight before hurrying along, side-eyeing a wayward buzzard as it screeched its displeasure from an overturned cart in the street.

You climbed the steps leading to the saloon’s main entrance, eager to get off the street and find somewhere a little less out in the open, your eyes scanning the establishment quickly as you crossed the threshold.

The inside of the old building was a scattering of overturned furniture, tables and chairs covered in a fine layer of dust and pockmarked by bullet holes.

You cast a cursory glance over the dead bodies, frozen permanently in the entity’s snapshot, no longer human bodies but now props to set a stage.

Your eyes lingered on the bar before passing over it quickly, knowing from experience that nothing of value would be found there. You had conducted a thorough investigation the first time you were here -a search for resources of course, nothing more- finding only shattered glass and a single unmarked bottle, the lone swig of alcohol inside burning your mouth in a way that had you tasting it for the rest of the trial no matter how many times you spit.

But off to one side rested the shining star of the old saloon, an old piano that had completely enthralled you the first time you saw it and every time since.

The instrument in question was the oldest piano you’d ever seen, exciting but not all that much of a surprise given the setting. You dragged the rickety chair from its place under the keybed and took a seat, ignoring the small screech of the chair legs on the old floor as you did so.

You spread your fingers over the keys, your touch feather-light, unbothered by the accumulated dust and grime on your pristine gloves as the piano banged out its own discordant tune.

There was the light creaking of worn floorboards behind you paired with the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps as they approached. Boots, you parsed easily. Definitely boots.

You felt a flash of fear, the feeling lasting only a handful of seconds before you forced yourself to settle again. You took a moment to think of the other survivors that had entered the trial with you. Too loud to be Ace’s loafers, the wrong sound altogether to be Yui’s sandals.

Jeff then.

You straightened in your chair, casting an excited glance over your shoulder. “Jeff,” you beamed. “Check this out-“

“Not Jeff,” the tall man rasped behind you.

Your blood ran cold, all traces of your smile vanishing and eyes widening in dawning horror as your entire body went rigid with fear.

The gunslinger’s hand was on your shoulder suddenly, his grip punishing, and you spun, your heart leaping into your throat at the sight of the man towering over you. Your mouth dropped dumbly in surprise as you moved immediately to stand, to run maybe, a startled noise instead tearing itself from your throat as the cowboy shoved you backwards so hard that the old wooden chair groaned in protest.

You noticed his grin before anything else, crooked and unkind as he looked at you. His eyes were intense, sharp and predatory, alight with the thrill of having caught you off guard.

‘My heartbeat,’ your brain supplied unhelpfully, gloved hand flying to your chest as your heartbeat suddenly roared to life behind your ribs. “Why...” you trailed off, tongue darting out nervously to wet your bottom lip. “Why didn’t I hear-“

His grin widened, strange eyes dragging leisurely and without shame from your face to trail the length of your body. “Reckon you just weren’t listening, girlie.”

You followed his gaze, puzzled briefly.

You could instantly feel the blood rush to your cheeks, fear pushed aside and replaced with embarrassment to find that your skirt had ridden up when he shoved you backwards, the already short hem pushed back enough to reveal the tops of your lacy stockings and garters, decorated with small, intricate bows.

You shifted in your chair, moving instinctively to press your thighs together and smooth the fabric back into place before you stopped yourself, a piece of advice given to you by another survivor ringing clear as a bell in your ears.

“Try to catch them off guard."

‘Sure,’ you thought. ‘Why not?’

You inhaled deeply, taking a moment to compose yourself under the man’s sharp gaze, lashes fanning against your flushed cheeks as you closed your eyes. When you opened them again, you tilted your head slightly, allowing a strand of loose hair to slip free from behind your ear and teasingly brush the tops of your breasts. You shifted forward in your seat, pleased to note the obvious way that the gunslinger’s eyes drifted to your chest again. You spread your fingers over your collarbone, making a show of it as you arched your back to give the man a better view.

“Ain’t above fightin’ dirty, I see,” the tall man scoffed.

You ignored the comment in favor of action. You reached towards him, willing your hands to steady themselves as you hooked pseudo-confident fingers behind the man’s belt and tugged him playfully towards you. “Reckon we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, Mister,” you drawled, tongue darting out to wet your lips in a way that you hoped read more sultry than nervous.

There was a moment where the man simply looked at you, head tilting slightly as if mulling the phrase over. He seemed to come to his conclusion quickly enough, perhaps deciding that your sudden exaggerated southern drawl wasn’t meant to offend or that this wasn’t some kind of trap he was about to fall into.

“That so?” The man grinned. He stepped forward into your space obligingly, seeming to humor the invitation of closeness. His eyes still held that unsettling glint to them, too bright and too shiny. Unnatural. Inhuman.

Regardless, you were pleased when he dropped his gaze again, his strange eyes focusing on the slight rustle of your heavy skirt as you spread your thighs wider to accommodate him.

This was easy. This was something you could do.

You felt your heart rate spike again when he shifted his weapon in his hands, your shoddily crafted facade dangerously close to slipping as you fought the urge to flinch. You allowed your eyes to linger on the gun for only a moment before sliding your gaze instead to his face, forcing an air of casualness. “I bet if you put that gun down, we could find a better use for those hands of yours, cowboy.”

You knew the gunslinger could end this little game right now if he wanted, could pick you up and carry you to a hook and there would be nothing you could do about it. But the thought of escaping the situation (or the trial, for that matter) was no longer at the forefront of your mind, a concept that emboldened but -more importantly- thrilled you in a way you couldn’t quite articulate.

That’s all this entire scenario was; just one big trust fall.

The gunslinger made a small noise at the offer, over exaggerated as if mulling it over. “Hmmm…” he said, stretching the sound long enough that you had to tamp down your fear again. After a brief pause,  there was the dull sound of steel meeting wood as the man reached past you to prop his gun in the corner where the piano met the wall.

All at once the tension seemed to leave your chest, like a bubble that had burst behind your rib cage. You exhaled softly through your nose, breathing a silent sigh of relief as you cast your eyes upwards to see now that the large man’s expression truly had shifted from ‘firmly murderous’ to ‘more than slightly amused.’

With his hands now free, the gunslinger reached down to cup your jaw, calloused thumb passing idly over your lips as if inspecting you.

“My, you certainly are a pretty thing, aren’t ya,” he mused. “Never woulda guessed what with all the blood yer always covered in.”

Without the immediate threat of death looming over your head, you allowed your shoulders to loosen. You shifted forward in your seat, one hand sliding from his belt to linger now on his thigh. Time to really go for it. “Maybe we could work out some kind of...trade.”

“Oh?” He asked, smug. “And what could you possibly offer me that I couldn’t just take?”

“Been told I’m pretty good with my mouth,” you said matter of factly, purposely ignoring the second half of the question. You tilted your chin upwards slightly, both hands coming up now to catch the gunslinger’s hand as his thumb lingered by your mouth. You parted your lips slightly, taking the tip of the aforementioned digit into your mouth and closing your teeth playfully around it.

The taste that hit your tongue wasn’t as unpleasant as you thought it might be, all dust and faded tobacco and some sort of bitter machine oil. Certainly not a deterrent. “Just say the word, cowboy, and I’ll get on my knees and take you for one hell of a ride.”

The gunslinger said nothing at first, as if processing the information he was given. Finally after a moment he spoke.

“I’ll do you one better, girlie,” he grinned. He moved quickly then, giving you only a few seconds to process what was said before he was lifting you out of your chair, settling you with ease on the dusty piano top. “Won’t even have to get on your knees for it.”

You froze at the suddenness with which he moved you, reminiscent of a deer in headlights. You regained your bravado quickly however,  lifting one thigh and then the other as you freed your dress from where it had become trapped beneath you. “Is that so?” You asked.

He watched the movement of the fabric with hungry eyes, his calloused hands moving from their resting position at your waist downwards, trailing your hips before settling firmly on your closed thighs.

Your heart leapt into your throat as exploratory fingers dipped below your skirt to find the top of one stocking, hooking a finger beneath the garter and snapping it lightly against your thigh. You squirmed, your eyes glued helplessly on his long fingers as he began to push the fabric up and out of the way.

“Reckon you’ll have to pardon my eagerness,” the man said, though the crooked grin on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t as apologetic as he tried to appear. “Suppose if I was a gentleman I might be takin’ this a little slower,” he mused, meeting your eyes before continuing. “But it’s been a long time since I was a gentleman…and I’m in a mighty big hurry to get started.”

From here the gunslinger made quick work of your garter clasps, his deft fingers moving immediately upwards to catch the edge of your delicate ruffled bloomers.

You could feel yourself blushing heavily in anticipation, too warm, almost dizzying as the heat crept further into your chest and face.

The man paused, his predatory gaze finally straying from your lower half to meet your eyes. His lopsided smirk widened further as he seemed to catch sight of your frazzled expression. “You pick these out?” He asked teasingly, tugging playfully at the fabric.

You opened your mouth to speak, your long overheated brain struggling and failing to churn out a suitable answer. “No,” you said instead, decidedly less than intelligent.

He chuckled at this, seemingly amused as he worked the undergarments down your thighs and then over your boots with ease.

You inhaled sharply at the experimental prodding of his fingers at your entrance, the almost gentle way he pressed forward before withdrawing, spreading your growing slick in his wake.

The sounds of your wetness were already audible -embarrassingly so- even over your shaky breathing and the screech of the buzzards outside. You closed your eyes, attempting to ignore the lewdness of the sound but finding this only served to deepen your blush and make you wetter.

“This doin’ somethin’ for you, sweetheart?” The cowboy asked, entirely too self-satisfied for your liking. “Or are you just easily excited?”

You chose to remain silent, a futile attempt to preserve the small amount of dignity you had left.

When he placed his hand on your middle and guided you back gently, you took the hint, supporting your weight with your arms as you leaned backwards to give him better access. From here he bent forward to get a better look at you, large hands forcing your thighs wide, grunting in annoyance when the brim of his large hat bumped against your stomach.

“Damn hat,” he muttered, his tone edging on irritated as he all but snatched the offending accessory from his head and placed it swiftly on top of your own. “Hold this for me, would you?”

You reached up reflexively, grabbing the brim of the old hat and lifting it slightly where it had fallen into your eyes.

You jolted at the first touch of his lips, sudden and bold, cheeks flushed and eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of his harsh stubble on your delicate inner thighs.

“Christ,” you said, too caught off guard to say anything else.

“We’re just gettin’ started.”

His mouth was hot against you, impossibly wet, the movements of his tongue languid and unhurried, thorough as if he planned to explore every inch of you and thought himself to have all the time in the world. The gunslinger’s hands were fire where they met your skin, his calloused fingertips tracing the edges of your stockings with teasing almost feather-light touches.

You lost yourself in a sea of heat, nerve endings alight with pleasure as he really set to work. In the distance you heard a generator roar to life, so far away that you weren’t entirely sure you had heard it at all. How many was that now? Two? Three?

He flattened his tongue against you, the pressure suddenly merciless when combined with the chapped lips and the barest hint of the man’s teeth. You began to squirm, the noises now slipping freely from your lips before you could stop them. You reached for him, your shaking fingers grasping desperately at his coat collar to drag him in closer before you could think better of it.

The gunslinger shifted his weight from one leg and then the other, hooking his arms around your thighs and dragging you to the edge of the piano top and closer still to his mouth. He hooked one of your knees over his shoulder, grinning against your inner thigh as he found a new angle that seemed to please him.

You made a small noise when he pressed one of his long fingers inside of you unexpectedly, a whine slipping from between parted lips as he twisted the digit this way and that. Your hips jolted involuntarily, the action surprising you in its abruptness. Your roving hands flew from the uncomfortable hold on his collar to scrabble uselessly at whatever else you could find, settling eventually on the cowboy’s hat as it rested on your head.

You grabbed the brim with both hands, pulling it down to hide your embarrassment as the gunslinger worked you open with all the experience of a man who had done this many times.

“Now, now,” he chastised, one arm moving from where it curled around your thigh to reach up, pulling the hat from your hands easily and replacing it atop your head in its original position. He flicked the brim teasingly, knocking it upwards and away from your eyes. “No hidin’, girlie.”

You gasped when he added a second finger alongside the first, your body suddenly overwhelmed entirely by the sensation. You twisted in his hold, thighs quaking and toes curling in your boots as the man continued his onslaught.

He chuckled then, a deep rumbling sound that sent another wave of liquid fire to your lower abdomen.

“You’re a sweet little thing, ain’t ya? So warm and welcomin’ for me...squeezing my fingers like you ain’t got no desire to ever see me go,” he teased. His cheeks were flushed, obvious now where you weren’t entirely sure before, sun damaged face ruddy even beneath the thin layer of dirt that coated him. His breath was hot where it fanned against your inner thighs, something you were acutely aware of as he went on. “…and wetter than a goddamn thunderstorm already,” he continued with a grin, seeming to revel in your squirming. “You sure don’t disappoint, do ya?”

You could feel your face heat impossibly further under the scrutiny, shaking legs attempting and failing to squeeze shut subconsciously as the man’s words began to register in your delayed brain.

He gave another raspy laugh, as if amused by the halfhearted attempt.

“Aww, now don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he grinned, turning his head to deliver a playful nip to your inner thigh. You could feel his large hands on your trembling knees, spreading them to their previous positions and then a little beyond that, exposing you obscenely to his hungry gaze.

As he brought his mouth back to your heated flesh, you realized you had never felt like this before, so entirely overwhelmed and thoroughly devoured.

This was going to ruin you.

There was movement to your right, a flash of pink just beyond the window, and you shifted your eyes to it instinctively.

Ace’s eyes were unreadable behind his reflective lenses, his lips pressed into a tense line, more serious perhaps than you had ever seen him. He lifted his hand slowly, raising his thumb first in question before rotating his wrist nearly a full 180 degrees and giving the universal signal for thumbs down.

You blinked slowly in confusion, eyes moving from the man’s hand then to his face and then back again. You knew you were supposed to say something here, or maybe do something. Your thought process was slowed nearly to nothing as the cowboy fucked you mercilessly with his fingers and tongue.

You were surprised to hear the tall man speak suddenly, the sound all but snapping you from your trance as you continued to stare with unfocused eyes towards the newcomer.

“He’s askin’ if you’re alright,” the gunslinger said, finally dragging himself from your lower half as if that was the last thing he wanted to do. He sneered, shooting a scathing look towards the interruption, impatient in a way you knew would mean trouble for Ace later. “Reckon you should answer him so we can go about our business.” Here he paused, mischievous glint in his eyes as he tilted his head teasingly at you. “Unless yer lookin’ to give the man a show.”

You mulled this over for a moment, seconds stretching on, not so much entertaining the idea of giving Ace a front row seat to your escapade so much as trying to remember how to string together words to make a coherent thought. “Oh,” you said finally, licking idly at your lips. Right. “I’m…I’m good,” you called, your voice cracking under the strain.

“Just good, huh?” The gunslinger teased. His long, dexterous fingers crept back to their original positions on your flushed skin. “Thinkin’ we can do a little better than just good.”

In the time it took for you to realize what was about to happen, he was on you again, delving forward to press his tongue inside of you once more.

You arched in surprise, sitting completely upright now as opposed to your relaxed, blissed out posture from only a moment ago, your own fingers twitching restlessly against your thighs. You gasped softly, eyes darting towards Ace again to find that his expression had changed entirely, smirk curling his lips now where only concern had been before. He tipped his cap at you, head tilted in a small nod and his grin growing ever broader when you reached up reflexively to tip the cowboy’s hat in return.

And then as quickly as the gambler appeared, he was gone, your attention shifting immediately back to the gunslinger as he pressed his fingers inside you again. You reveled in the delicious stretch, the digits thick and pleasant as he scissored them within you. Your legs shook, twinging muscles threatening to cramp as the gunslinger held them in their current positions, stretched too wide for too long.

Your hand dove to grab the edge of the piano top when his tongue found your clit, circling it first before beginning to lick it, all teasing thrown out the window now as he set to work in earnest.

“Quite the gentleman droppin’ in to check on you,” the cowboy sneered between punishing licks. His eyes cut suddenly towards the window, as if scanning for the other man. He gave a pleased hum to see that the other man had moved along, the noise vibrating deliciously against your skin. “Was wonderin’ when he was gonna make himself known,” the gunslinger grinned. “Been standing there an awful long time just a’watchin’.”

“If it was anyone else, I’d probably have the common sense to be embarrassed,” you gasped, head tipped back now as you lost yourself in the rhythm of his long fingers as they rocked in and out. “Ace…” you continued, breath hitching as the gunslinger picked up his pace. “Ace is Ace.”

“Not a fan of that one,” the cowboy said offhandedly. “Beat me in cards once. He cheats.”

“He’s just lucky.”

“He cheats,” the man said again, firm, the tone brooking no argument. The bottom half of the cowboy’s face was shiny and wet, and you found yourself distracted by his tongue as it slid from between his chapped lips to run his tongue through it.

“Okay,” you said dumbly. “Okay.”

There was the abrupt sound of a generator being completed, a sudden blinding brightness that shone through the windows and had you squinting your eyes.

“Ah,” the gunslinger said. “Reckon that’s my cue to finish this up.”

You nearly arched off the piano top when he dove back in purposefully, all tongue and lips and fingers that plunged in and out, in and out. He pinned you easily as you squirmed, movements becoming increasingly more wild as he continued his merciless assault. You could feel the build up in your lower stomach, nerve endings alight as your body struggled to process the gunslinger’s ministrations.

When had you started panting?

“Maybe if you ask real sweet, I’ll - “

“Please,” you said immediately, the word falling from your lips before he could finish his thought. You weren’t above begging. You were so close now, teetering on the precipice, any bit of hesitancy you had before completely thrown out the window in the wake of your impending orgasm.

You began to plead in earnest, the same word spoken over and over again -please, please, please- so many times now that the word began to lose its meaning.

You were beyond incoherent, you knew, entirely incomprehensible as the cowboy worked you so thoroughly that you could swear you saw stars. “Please,” you begged, desperate in a way that would surely embarrass you later. “Please, please.”

The gunslinger said something in his gravelly voice, his tone distinctly pleased but overshadowed by your shameless begging. When his thumb met your clit, you gave a sharp inhale as you were pushed over the edge, less a gentle step into the unknown and more a runaway train careening off the tracks.

Despite the build up, you were entirely unprepared for the orgasm that tore through you. It was all encompassing, intense in a way that you had never experienced. Your entire body shuddered, knees and thighs quaking on either side of the gunslinger’s head, thoroughly overwhelmed. You whined when he continued to lick into you despite the overstimulation, his long fingers still pumping in and out even as you squirmed and twisted.

Then all at once the stimulation was gone and you could breathe again.

The gunslinger began to pull away from you, his voice barely muffled against your skin as he spoke once more. His voice was deep, husky and too low to hear over the blood that still rushed loudly in your own ears.

“What?” You asked, flushed chest still heaving as your head continued to clear. You felt like you were underwater, like you could see the cowboy’s mouth moving but couldn’t make your brain understand what was being said.

The gunslinger straightened, finally returning to his full height as he wiped the slick off his face with one dusty sleeve. He opened his mouth again, a sudden sickening ‘pop’  filling the air as he corrected his crooked jaw. He gave a soft grunt of pain, one hand coming up to cup his face in a way that indicated that this was not an unusual occurrence.

“Said my jaw is hurtin’ like a sonuvabitch,” he repeated, grimacing as he shifted his jaw from one side and then the other as if trying to keep it from becoming stiff again. “I’ll be damned if you didn’t make it worth my while, though.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, overtly aware of the awkwardness as it began to seep back into the situation without his hands and mouth to occupy you.

You made a small noise of surprise when he grabbed you around your waist suddenly, lifting you from the piano and setting you down as easily as he had lifted you in the first place. Your legs felt wobbly underneath you, unsteady, a feeling you tried to brush away as you smoothed your skirt back into a position you deemed acceptable.

The gunslinger watched the movement of your skirt with rapt attention, much in the same way he’d watched it earlier when you were trying to tempt him.

”Nothin’ left to do but leave,” the tall man said idly. That strange glint had returned to his eyes, any warmth fading as he reached behind you for his weapon. “Reckon you oughta head out as soon as those gates are open if you want to make it out in one piece.”

Uh oh.

“Go on now,” he grinned, all teeth, unkind and dangerous in a way that sent a chill down your spine. He stepped into your space, standing nearly two heads taller than you as he plucked his hat from your head. “Trust me when I say you don’t wanna test me.”

You yelped when he delivered a sudden sharp slap to your rear, the contact finally spurning you into action. You stumbled down the saloon stairs and back onto the dusty street, one arm coming up to block the too-bright light as your eyes struggled to adjust.

Behind you, the gunslinger laughed, raspy and low. “Find me in the fog any time, girlie.”

You shot one last glance over your shoulder as you hurried along, making your way quickly towards the nearest gate as it loomed heavy and industrial at the end of the street.

In the distance you heard a scream, ear piercing and guttural. You sucked in a breath, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other as if debating what to do, the cowboy’s words from earlier echoing suddenly in your head.

‘Reckon you oughta head out as soon as those gates are open if you want to make it out in one piece.’

In the distance another scream rang out, echoing across the prairie.

You didn’t stick around to hear a third.

[captainjimothycarter]

What are Steve's wedding vows to Peggy?

Hey i wrote something since like Saturday. kinda proud of myself despite BAD anxiety over this.

--

“Are you ready, Steve?”

The question came from Edwin Jarvis, the man sticking his head in through the curtains to smile at the nervous Captain. Steve just held up the bowtie in despair, trying to hide the shake in his fingers.

“I can mull down hundreds of Nazis. I can fight Hydra to the bone and-and nearly be killed by a frozen tundra, but what defeats me is a god dang bow tie!”

Jarvis laughed as he stepped into the small side room, giving him a comforting smile. “You know,” he mused as he started to do the tie. “When I was marrying my Ana, I was so nervous I fainted right as we got to I do.”

Steve felt himself gap, looking the man up and down. He could picture that, not that he would say it. He felt like he might faint before he even got out to where Bucky and Colonel Phillips were waiting for him.

“When I came to, my head was in Ana’s lap and I insisted she was an angel. She practically is - not that I’ll ever insist anything different. She’s never let me live that down, that rascal. The point is, Captain Rogers,” the man smirked as he finished the tie and smoothed it out along Steve’s neck. “It’s okay to be nervous.”

“I’m...Captain America, I shouldn’t be nervous, I wasn’t nervous when-”

“Let me ask you something,” Jarvis spoke over him, patting the guy’s shoulders to get him to sit down. He pulled a comb out of nowhere and started to fix Steve’s mousy hair from his constant fingers combing through it. All Steve could do was look on in the mirror. “When you bulldozed through of Hydra agents or lead your Howling Commandos through countless missions or did whatever you did in what the reports do not say, were you nervous?”

“Of course not, those guys depended on me. I couldn’t afford to be nervous or second think my actions, someone might’ve died.” Plenty of people did, in ways Steve could’ve never stopped or predicted unless he’d been there, but he was one person.

Not that Jarvis was asking about this.

“Exactly. They depended on you. You needed to be ready for anything, to overcome anything Hydra would’ve thrown at you. Yet with Miss Carter, you’re nervous about your wedding? It’s practically a tradition to be nervous. Do you know what that means?”

“That I’ll fumble my vows or drop the rings and it’ll roll into a gutter, never to be seen again?”

Jarvis snorted and lightly squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “No, Captain Rogers, it does not. It means that you love her. You love Miss Carter with every fiber of your being. It means you, my friend, will have an amazing wedding and marriage. Even if you do fumble, you can do no worse than me and fainting.”

Steve covered his face, trying to stabilize his breathing. He did love Peggy - Jarvis was right. There was no doubt about that. He loved her. Loved her so damn much he might explode. He just...was nervous.

“Being nervous,” Jarvis continued as he put the comb away and tilted Steve’s head up to inspect himself in the black and white suit. “Being nervous is a tradition. It means you love her. I’m sure Miss Carter is nervous too.”

Steve’s mouth opened to counter, Peggy couldn’t be nervous - he’s seen her stare enemies dead in the eye and not miss a beat. He’s seen her let herself get shot if it meant saving the hostage. He’s seen her survive countless trails and still stand on top at the end of the day. There’s no way Peggy was nervous. Yet, the second he opened his mouth to say something, Bucky stuck his head through the curtain.

His hair was perfectly parted thanks to his mother’s intervention. He was sure the second his ma wasn’t looking, he would mess it up. The suit he wore was a little on the older side, insisting he got to wear his dad’s suit to this wedding.

“You ready, Stevie? That green isn’t a good shade, bud.”

Steve gently swatted at Bucky’s chest as he adjusted the suit once more, trying to take in a deep breath to calm down.

“Shut up. I’m just...nervous. How’s everything looking? We ready?”

“Ready as we’ll ever be. Ole Phillips is grumbling as ever. Dugan is waiting up there, Angie is ready. We’ve already had to stop the niece and nephew from throwing the flowers everywhere.”

“Oliver and Penny really like those roses, huh?” Steve’s lips twitched into a small laugh at the idea of the kids going haywire with those roses. “And Peggy? Is she…?”

“Ana and Rose and even Howard are in there, it’s alright.” Seeing his friend’s panic look, he smoothed down his suit again, the metallic hand glimmering in the dull light of the chapel. “Let’s get this party started and get you two crazy kids married.”

--

“Always knew you two would end up together,” Phillips grunted as Steve stood nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “From the second she laid eyes on that scrawny form of yours.”

Steve laughed, a more forceful laugh given the nervous state he was in. He watched Jarvis politely sit down after checking in on the girls, Rose already coming up to stand by them. Bucky clapped Steve on the shoulder, squeezing him too hard.

“Told you,” he chuckled. “You two were meant to be…”

“‘cept you shouldn’t have shown up in the bar when we were having your public funeral,” Dugan interjected. “Not the best idea, Cap.”

“You’re lucky Carter didn’t shoot you on the spot, coming up with a soiled uniform, and half that glass in your chest,” Phillips grunted.

“Wouldn’t have hurt as bad, if-”

Steve stopped the second he heard Ana playing the piano, turning on his heels and towards the door.

He watched Oliver and Penny run through with the flowers, throwing them everywhere but the floor. His little giggle and the laugh through the chapel made him relax a little, but the second he saw Peggy, everything was back in full force.

She was...beautiful, spectacular. A thousand words he couldn’t think to say. His mind nothing but a fine-tuned sound of buzzing as he watched her slowly walk through that door. Ana had worked perfectly on that dress, the trim, the lace, every down to the last details of the pearls knitted into the collar.

Steve could feel the tears burning in his eyes as she slowly stood in front of him, hearing in the corner of his mind, Phillips muttering about sap.

He loved her.

“You look…” Steve struggled with the word as he held onto her glove-laced hands, looking down at them and slowly back to those beautiful hazel eyes that he’d fallen in love with before he even knew what color they were.

“I know,” Peggy finished, squeezing his hands. “You look pretty dashing yourself. We-”

“How about we get this show on the road, huh?” Phillips asked, breaking the silence, and the music slowly melted into the background. “We all knew we’d end up here today. It was just a matter of time and if it was legal or not. I expected you two to just waltz into my tent one day and demand to be married, the laws and logic be damned.”

“Almost,” Steve mused, shrugging his shoulders. Phillips’ grey eyes were trained on him, brow rose as if to ask what. “I proposed to Peggy after she’d been shot during the hostage situation of ‘44.”

“Son.” The tone said all and the Howling Commandos laughed the loudest. Steve glanced over to see Peggy’s side of the family, most with pursed lips. They still weren’t pleased that their daughter was marrying a Yankee.

“We told him to do it,” Dugan interjected.

“Dared him, actually,” Jones added.

“Double-dog dared him,” Bucky said.

“Actually, we told him to do it or we would on his behalf,” Pinky reminded them.

“We-”

Phillips’ look silenced Falsworth on the spot, the man clearing his throat and stepping back in line. “We’re no longer at war, boys, you don’t have to keep defending your Captain under insane circumstances. I’ll never forget about the damn goat incident.”

--

It was only a few minutes later before Phillips cleared his throat again and nodded towards the couple. “The couple has written their own vows. Ca-Steve, would you like to go first?”

Steve blinked as he felt Peggy’s eyes on him, trying to calm his racing heart down. “Okay, yeah. Yeah,” he breathed, taking the paper Dugan had passed him. “I stayed up till 4 in the morning working on this. Mr. Jarvis had to eventually take the pen from me so I’d sleep.”

“And he didn’t accept my help,” Howard muttered just loud enough for Steve to hear, making the Captain flush.

“Okay, here it goes,” Steve breathed, unfolding the paper and trying not to let how nervous he was shown. His hands were already starting to shake and he was afraid sweat would ruin the ink.

Peggy’s hand gently closed around his wrist and offered him a comforting smile. “It’s okay, darling. Just us. Not a whole platoon of guys to play Star-Spangled Man With A Plan.”

If he wasn’t blushing then, he was now.

“Peggy, I…” Steve looked down at the paper and back up at her. He could hear Jarvis’s voice in the back of his head telling him that when he got up there, he’d know what to say. Fumbling or not.

“Peggy, I love you. I’ve loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you and I didn’t know it. I didn’t know what the color of your lips was or the color of your eyes or your hair or even your uniform. I didn’t know the true sound of your voice or the smell of the roses on your skin. I didn’t know much then - hell I don’t know much now -”

A few people laughed and Steve lowered the paper, looking dead into his wife-to-be eyes.

“I didn’t know much then. I just knew you were hell on high heels and damn anyone who got in your path. When you first knocked out Hodge, I felt my breath taken away. When you ran for the grenade too, I wanted my last sight to be of you, swore I was goin’ blow myself up to a million pieces. Our first conversation in that car might’ve been one of our lasts and I was glad it was with you, someone who understood me. Understood what it was like to be discriminated against because we’re us… Because I was sickly and small and you were a woman, a girl, a-”

“You still don’t know how to talk to women, do you?” Peggy asked, blinking the tears from her eyes and making Steve give a wet laugh.

“I”m afraid not, how I managed to get you to fall in love with me is a wonder. The point is, Pegs, I love you, from the bottom of my heart. All through the war, we talked about what we wanted after. I insisted on a white-picket fence, a house in some neighborhood, that we’d build the perfect life together and well...you saw where that lead us. Me to a watery grave and you punching me out when I showed up at that bar. Even if I was late for our dance.

I just...I love you. Life has taken us on insane turns from clearing our friend’s name to-to living in LA for a few months. To...to here. To me finally getting the guts to purpose to you. Or more like catching my breath. I need you in my life and I’m lucky to have you. I’m more than happy to sit on the sidelines and let you work, to raise our kids or tend to a home, to do anything you ask. I’m more than happy to just be yours. I just...I need to be yours like I need to breathe. You are my life, Peggy Carter, and I’ll have no other but you. I’m lucky to be your husband, to be by your side through it all.”

Peggy didn’t bother to hide the few tears running down her face, thankful Angie had fixed her makeup just right to prevent the tear streaks from showing. She cleared her face off with the handkerchief Rose had given her and sniffled.

“Sap,” she laughed, shaking her head. “I stayed up late last night but not writing these vows. I...told myself I knew what I was going to say when I got up here, but I’m mistaken. I can only say I love you, Steve Rogers. You are my life. My soul. When I was young, I insisted I wouldn’t marry. I insisted my life was to slay dragons, rescue knights, be a pirate. To be anything but the lady my mother wanted me to be.

I insisted I knew what I wanted for myself. That I-I wanted to be a codebreaker and I was good at it. I-”

“And saved our lives with it,” Howard said, causing them to laugh.

“Yes, Howard, thank you. I am good at it. I’m great at it. I insisted that’s all I could do to help the war effort, to maybe consider becoming a nurse but my mother and Fred forbidden it. I insisted I loved Fred because my mother did. I insisted that I could do some good by staying home, being the good wife, and keeping my head down. I insisted on a lot of things but for myself…

It took Micheal’s death for me to see there was more for me out there. The SSR was life-changing for me. Getting to serve under Colonel Phillips’ here, getting to meet you, even if you were...different.”

“It’s okay, call him a shrimp like I did,” Phillips interjected, making Peggy give a wet chuckle. “Kid got that sandwich after all.”

He swore the man smiled at him - even if Steve wouldn’t admit it.

“You were different. You stood out from the rest and it was because of your good heart. Yes the grenade incident, but you helped the nurses around the base. You helped collect herbs for them when we ran out of pain killers, you remembered decades-old healing practices that your mother taught you. You gave some of the guys, even if they were bastards to you, advice on how to fix their broken shoelaces or how to even hide the knives better in their clothes. You were kind and sweet-hearted and I wanted you from the start.

Even after your serum, you didn’t change. You saved that kid. You saved me, even if I was quite upset about it.”

“You did yell at me a lot for pushing you out of the way,” Steve interrupted, remembering that chaotic day.

“You were running with no shoes on and shoved me out of the way of an oncoming car. I had to yell about something.” She smoothed down his suit and sighed, shaking the veil. “Even after that, Steve, I...I love you. I loved you from the start. During the war, that love only grew. I thought we hid it well.”

“No,” Bucky snorted. “No, you two did not. Everyone knew.”

“Yes, thank you, James,” Peggy huffed, giving her friend a roll of her eyes. “That love for you grew and I’m only sorry we didn’t act sooner, that we didn’t kiss more or-or risk it to just touch each other in blatant public when we needed the comfort because it was a war. I am sorry that it took this long to get here - but we’re here. Look at us. We’re here, sweetheart. We’re getting married after all in a setting of our choice, with our friends and family. It’s worth the wait.”

“You’re always worth the wait,” Steve whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you,” Peggy whispered, squeezing his hands. “I loved you then, to now, and forevermore. I’ll never stop loving you, no part of my soul will be complete without you. You are my light, Steven Grant Rogers, as I am your compass, your true star north. You are my light and I want nothing more from you than a life that we paved together.”

There was no dry eye around them, even the grisled Colonel was sniffing slightly and wiping at his eyes. He squeezed the book in his hand and gave the couple a warm smile. “Aren’t you two kids sweet? Why don’t we wrap this up so you two can kiss like how you did in the supply closets?”

Steve felt his ears burn, turning back to Peggy and holding her hands. He wasn’t sure how he survived the rest of the ceremony. Of Bucky bringing the rings to them, his ma’s old ring that Howard had cleaned up and engraved with their wedding date on it. Peggy’s father’s wedding band.

He wasn’t sure how he barely got the words I do our before Peggy was jumping on him to kiss him and Steve’s arms found a way around her frame to pick her up and kiss the life out of her.

The wedding they dreamed of and feared that they never had.

A life yet to come with many memories down the road.

[lovesick-feelin]

i might just keep sending these cos theres so many wonderful ones

willex, 34?

Oh my lord this got away from me I am SO sorry. (I'm not sorry, though, because I had so much fun writing this. Like, wow.) I will get to the other prompts as soon as possible but in the meantime enjoy almost 3k of literally just fluff.

This started as a cute scene in the studio and turned into a study on Willie's obsession with Alex's hands and then suddenly it was a love confession. Oops.

Prompt me! | Read on AO3

=

The first time it happens, Willie chalks it up to nerves.

Alex is new to the whole ghost thing, Willie reasons. He might not still be super comfortable phasing through doors like it’s nothing. It’s been forty years since Willie had any sort of pulse, but he knows it would be pounding right now as he puts on a casual front, swinging his arm forward and then back to grab Alex’s hand.

Alex jumps like he’s been shocked with static electricity, eyes flying down to their joined hands and then back up to Willie’s face. He doesn’t pull away, though, and the tension that appeared in his shoulders is gone as quick as it arrived, and then he smiles, so Willie knows he’s good.

They’ve hung out three or four times since they first met on Sunset Boulevard, and Willie has decided he’s starting a catalogue of Alex’s smiles; this one is new. It’s shyer than the “Grateful You’re Answering My Questions” smile Willie got on the bench, not touched with laughter like the “Oh, This One Time” smile Alex uses when he tells stories about his bandmates. This one is startled, a little awkward, but soft and open, and Willie has a good feeling in his chest that Alex doesn’t share this smile with a lot of people.

Willie knows that if he lets himself keep staring at it, though, it’ll become the “Kissed Right Off My Face” smile, so he tears his eyes away from Alex and tugs them both into the museum, never letting go of his hand.

Somehow they’ve moved from palms clasped to fingers interlocked in the five seconds before they jumped through the doors, and Willie can feel the rough drumstick calluses on Alex’s palms and fingers, some edged with torn skin and others worn to permanence with the passage of time, all now permanently affixed in whatever state they were in when Alex died. There’s a large one right on the pad of Alex’s thumb that keeps brushing over the back of Willie’s hand, smaller ones tucked into the insides of his knuckles, and Willie wants to memorize all of them, all these little reminders that Alex bled and breathed and played music and was alive.

Willie kind of wants to never let go of Alex’s hand ever, but he didn’t drag Alex to this empty museum just to be weird and hold his hand, and Willie’s already caught sight of three different potential jumps that look just sick enough to impress the cute boy to his left, so it’s with some reluctance that he releases his grip on Alex to put his helmet on and cruise the gallery.

Willie finds himself tracing the smooth lines of his own palm later, after Alex leaves, remembering how the calluses felt against his palms and the way Alex gripped his hand, hesitant at first but then with intention, like even if Willie hadn’t grabbed his hand, Alex would have wanted him to.

=

When Willie grabs Alex’s hand at the Hollywood Ghost Club to help launch him over the tables and onto the dance floor, there’s that same initial shock that flies through Alex’s body, but it’s gone too fast for Willie to even be conscious of it, swept away by the adrenaline of the music and the way Alex is smiling at him, looking alive. This is the closest Willie has to any sort of home turf in the afterlife, and Alex is here, eyes lit up under the glow of the stage lights. Willie wants to take the memory of Alex’s face when he got up to dance and etch it frame for frame in stone: Alex’s tongue pressed against the side of his cheek, the way his bandmates cheered and jostled his shoulders but Alex’s eyes stayed on Willie the entire time. Willie didn’t know his cheeks could flush anymore, doesn’t know how it’s possible, but Alex sends him reeling that way, pink and warm and like he’s glowing.

Willie squeezes their hands together briefly, finding the callus on Alex’s thumb and sweeping his touch over it quickly enough to make it seem like an accident, and he swears he hears Alex’s breath catch above the roar of the music, their eyes meeting like an electric charge.

Luke and Reggie find themselves swept away by dance partners right away, and Willie’s just summoning up the courage to grab Alex and show him all the partner dances he knows when a lifer in a steel gray ball gown asks him for directions, and Willie has to show her to the stairs. He ducks and weaves his way through the crowd, laughing with delight as he watches Maya shred on the piano, and then Caleb catches his eye with a flashing grin and jerks his thumb towards the dance floor.

And there’s Alex, being twirled around by Dante, feet flying, and his smile is wide and startled and Willie wants to be the recipient of it so bad it aches. Fuego appears out of nowhere to catch Alex by his other hand, and Willie finds himself bowled over by a wave of ice cold envy, that anyone else should be granted the privilege of Alex’s touch without earning it.

Alex catches his eye and brightens like a fucking sun, beckoning Willie onto the dance floor, but the dancers twirl everywhere and everyone wants to touch Alex and Willie is in stupid, hopeless, maybe-love after knowing this boy for two weeks and it’s all too much, threatening to knock him over, so Willie tries to salvage what’s left of his crumbling foundations and bolts.

=

Willie doesn’t get to hold his hand again until suddenly it might be for the last time ever.

Everything is too fast, too sudden, and Willie doesn’t even get the chance to stop Alex from backing away before suddenly he’s sweeping forward and clutching onto Willie’s shoulders like he’s a buoy in a violent storm. Willie’s brain catches up after a moment. He buries his face in Alex’s neck and Alex smells like springtime, peony and cucumber and rainwater, like things waking up and coming back to life. Willie holds him like a lifeline, like hope of resurrection, and tries not to think about going back to the way things were before, trying to exist around the gaping maw Alex created when he crashed into Willie’s afterlife.

When they pull apart, it's out of some kind of necessity that Willie twines their fingers together. Alex tenses but doesn’t flinch, and Willie wants to ask about it, would ask about it if they had the time they deserved, but they don’t, because the universe is cruel and Willie is selfish and unthinking and so, so in love, and so he doesn’t ask and he settles for squeezing Alex’s hand one more time, memorizing every callus as if the phantom sensation of their hands intertwined might lead him to some sort of healing.

“I’ll see you around, Hot Dog,” Willie says just to watch the blush of indignance color Alex’s cheeks one more time before he forces himself to drop Alex’s hand and skate down the block out of sight. I would have still followed you, Alex had told him on the back of that couch in the Orpheum, face open and vulnerable, the closest he’ll ever come to a confession of what lay between them, and Willie has to force himself not to look back. If Alex could take Willie’s hand and tug him to the other side of whatever limbo this is the way Willie tugged him through those museum doors, Willie would follow him too, because he’d follow Alex anywhere. It just seems like fate has other plans.

=

It turns out, Willie thinks later, standing in the late night dark of the museum with Alex’s callused hands cradling his jaw and their foreheads pressed together, bathed in an impossible golden glow, that fate might just know what she’s doing.

=

“Why do you always do that?”

“Huh?” Alex looks up from the sheet music he’s studying, something Luke had shoved into his hands as he sprinted out of the garage that was just too good for Alex not to read right now. Julie is at school and Luke is with Reggie scoping out new venues for the afternoon, so they’ve got the studio to themselves, the concrete floors bathed in sunlight that turns Alex’s floppy hair to gold. He’s wearing Willie’s favorite shirt, the olive green Bowie one, and his jacket has been abandoned to the back of a chair. Willie is definitely not ogling his arms.

Willie holds up their joined hands before letting them fall again to rest between them on the couch. “Whenever I grab your hand. You, uh, you always flinch a little.”

Alex blinks, setting the sheet music down and suddenly looking self conscious enough that Willie almost regrets saying anything. “Oh. I didn’t realize I was doing it.”

“I didn’t think you did,” Willie says easily, shifting his body to face Alex fully and tucking his feet up underneath him. “Everything okay? We don’t, um,” he continues, fumbling over his words, “if you don’t, like, like holding hands, we don’t have to --”

“No, no, no!” Alex cuts him off quickly. “I like it. Like, a lot. We don’t have to stop.”

“Oh.” Willie knows his face is as pink as Alex’s hoodie. “Good. That’s - that’s good.”

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know why I flinch. Just embarrassed, I guess.”

Here Willie has to pause. “Embarrassed?”

“I guess.”

“About what?”

Alex shrugs awkwardly, bringing his socked feet up onto the couch to hug his knees, their joined hands still tucked between them. “I’ve just always been weird about my hands,” he says, staring at his free hand, Luke’s sheet music forgotten. “I have all those ugly calluses. You know, from my drumsticks. Never liked them.”

Willie can’t help the giggle that bursts out of him, and Alex’s eyes fly to his face. “What?” he asks, mouth quirking up in what Willie’s now categorized as his “I Don’t Know What’s Going On But You’re Cute” smile, and Willie hums.

“Just ironic,” he muses, bringing Alex’s hand up to hold in both of his. “I’ve always loved your calluses.”

It’s Alex’s turn to blush. Willie earns himself a “Museum Date” smile and high-fives himself internally. “Really?” Alex asks, and Willie nods earnestly, turning Alex’s hand over to rest palm up in the cradle of his hands.

“Honestly, man? I’m, like, kind of obsessed with them.” He skims the lightest of touches over the small calluses tucked in the creases of Alex’s fingers and revels in the soft gasp Alex lets out. “Like, you loved something so much,” Willie murmurs, smoothing his thumb over a large one on Alex’s palm below his pointer finger, “that it tethered itself to your soul. Calluses are, like, proof of that passion. You were alive, and you loved this.” Willie reaches with his other hand and traces the edges of the callus on Alex’s thumb. “Even when it hurt you.”

He looks up and Alex is so still in the afternoon sunlight, like he’s suspended in amber. He’s so gorgeous it hurts. “I never thought of it like that,” Alex manages, voice hoarse, and Willie nods, suddenly finding that he can’t speak at all. He brings Alex’s hand up and presses his lips to the pad of his thumb, the seam of his mouth meeting the center of the time-hardened scar. Alex looks like he might faint.

“You really like them,” he breathes, and Willie nods again, not breaking eye contact as he moves, pressing feather-light kisses to the calluses on Alex’s fingers and palm.

“I really like you,” he answers, pulling Alex closer still to kiss the nonexistent pulse on the soft inside of Alex’s wrist. If Willie’s heart still beat it would be pounding out of his chest. Alex goes so easily, like clay in Willie’s hands, and it’s so easy for Willie to take his other hand and draw Alex’s legs out flat on the couch, all guardedness abandoned. Willie slides into his lap, knowing full well that he isn’t fooling anyone, that Alex can feel the way Willie’s breath stutters as he trails kisses to the crook of Alex’s elbow. Alex’s hand falls to the dip of Willie’s waist, the hem of the tie-dye crop slipping up so that Alex’s palm is pressed fully against the bare skin there, and it’s a crime how well it fits, like it was supposed to rest there, like nature intended it.

“I like your hands,” Willie murmurs, and he knows he couldn’t control the words spilling out of his mouth right now even if he wanted to. “I like holding them. I like the way the calluses feel on my palms.” He presses a kiss to Alex’s upper arm where the sleeve of his shirt meets skin, and when he drops it Alex’s other hand flies automatically to the small of Willie’s back, anchoring him like a magnet. Willie meets his gaze and Alex’s pupils are blown wide, eyes so blue Willie could drown in them, and his hands. Willie feels like he’s on fire everywhere Alex is touching him and somehow it isn’t enough.

“I like how steady they get when you play the drums,” Willie hums, steadying himself with two hands on Alex’s chest and dropping a kiss to his shoulder. “I like watching. I love,” and here he kisses Alex’s exposed collarbone, revels in the catch of his breath, “when you twirl your drumsticks. So easy, like you’re not even trying.”

Willie noses up and kisses the curve of Alex’s neck. Alex’s grip tightens on Willie’s waist, head tilting pliantly to the side to give him easier access. “Willie,” he breathes, but he doesn’t need to say anything else. Willie knows.

“I love it when you hold me,” he murmurs, still trailing kisses up Alex’s neck. “I love your hands on my waist, and my back, and my shoulders.” He mouths at Alex’s stupidly perfect jawline, kissing the corner. “I love your hands on my face when you kiss me.” Another kiss pressed to Alex’s cheekbone, just by his ear. “I love when they’re in my hair.”

Alex inhales sharply and then the hand on Willie’s back is skating up to thread itself in his hair, always so careful and gentle and intentional, even now, when Willie’s got him completely undone. Their foreheads are pressed together, breath mingling in the space between them, and Willie kisses Alex’s cheek again, each corner of his mouth, the lightest touch to his cupid’s bow, and the words that have sat inside of him since that day on Sunset Boulevard and maybe since the universe was created, well, they don’t seem so heavy anymore.

“I love your hands,” Willie breathes, everything around them impossibly still, “because I love you. If you can believe it.”

The shaky sigh that Alex lets out is audible, almost a cry, and then he’s kissing Willie, using the hand in his hair to guide the tilt of their heads and slotting their lips together so perfectly that Willie kind of wants to cry. He steadies himself with an arm on the back of the couch and reaches with his other hand for Alex’s arm. Without breaking the kiss Willie guides Alex’s other hand to cup his face, wrapping his own hand around Alex’s wrist and losing himself in the easy give and take of kissing this boy. This boy, who loved Willie so fiercely that he saved his soul, whose touch unravels him like spun sugar, who Willie could spend an eternity with. He will, if Alex will let him, and Willie just thinks he might.

They separate just enough to breathe, eyes closed and foreheads touching. Willie blinks his eyes open first, slowly, and the sight of Alex right there, flushed and radiant and gorgeous, is enough to knock the wind out of Willie’s lungs. He drops his hand from Alex’s wrist to reach up and brush some of the hair off of his forehead, pressing a kiss to his hairline. Alex hums, leaning into the touch, skating his thumb over Willie’s cheekbone before dropping his hand back to the dip of his waist.

“Wow,” Willie says quietly, the first to really break the silence, and Alex huffs out a quiet laugh. He runs his fingers gently through Willie’s hair all the way to the ends, lets his head flop back on the arm of the couch, blue eyes warm and his smile easy and open, and he’s the most beautiful, devastating thing Willie has ever seen.

“I love you too,” Alex says hoarsely, and then clears his throat. “By the way,” he adds, and there’s the rest of the Alex that Willie knows, always a little anxious but never unsure. Willie’s helpless to do anything but lean in and kiss him again, because he loves him. Golden, gentle, awkward, beautiful Alex, who loves Willie so intentionally, who guarded his heart so carefully even when it had already given itself away, who sees Willie for all his mistakes and jagged edges and broken parts and loves him for all of it, on purpose, but still worried over the calluses on his palms as if they made him anything less than perfect.

Alex kisses him back and Willie’s heart sings, and it feels just a little bit like forever.

[juliathephantom]

JATP Fanfic Recs: Multichapter Edition

* indicates complete

'Stupid Cupid, Stop Hitting On Me' by Bluefire510

Juke

Luke, a troublemaker cupid, meets Julie, who is also one of Love HQ's toughest cases to crack.

She claims to have no desire to fall in love.

But Luke is always up for a challenge.

Let's see if he could get Julie to fall for her Perfect Match by next Valentine's Day.... and maybe teach her all about love while he's at it.

*Operation Hashtag Rulie by where_you_go

Reggie/Luke/Julie

“Explain yourselves,” Caleb ground out.

“Uh…it’s not what it looks like?” Reggie tried, wincing.

“Oh really, Reginald? Because it looks like two of my most popular band members from a family-friendly band are fornicating in public!”

-

Julie and Reggie get caught up in a PR misunderstanding that leads to them "dating" for a few months. It's not a big deal, or at least it wouldn't be, if Luke would stop acting so weird.

*Unexpected by Phantom_Lover

Luke is determined to breeze through his senior year and onto mega stardom (which means avoiding school, and Principal Lessa, as much as possible). That is until he's forced to work side-by-side with quiet good-girl, Julie Molina, on the big end-of-the-year talent show. The two struggle to see eye to eye, and meeting the all-important deadline seems impossible until something unexpected happens between them.

keys to the cage (and the devil to pay) by HearJessRoar

Juke, Willex

Julie Molina has always thought it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate.

Unfortunately, she's right.

"Julie, Julie Patterson, I'm a maid here in the governor's household," she bluffs. And she wishes that Luke's name hadn't been the first that she'd come up with, because the long-haired pirate's eyebrows raise immediately.

"Luke got married?" he says, sounding oddly betrayed.

His blonde companion looks equally gutted. "He didn't even tell us."

Piss Off Your Parents (Date Me To Scare Them) by TheNameIsBritney

Willex

Alex Mercer doesn't want to go home for Christmas; but if he has to, he's certainly gonna raise a little hell. Enter: Willie, the cute guy in his history of English class who would be the perfect fake boyfriend candidate.

So if you wanna piss off your parents, date me to scare them, show them you're all grown up. If long hair and tattoos are what attract you, baby then you're in luck.

*i'll hold your music (here inside my hands) by musicals_musicals

"Your soulmate must love music just like you do”

Julie is 3 years old, enthusiastically playing a small plastic piano, the first time she sees her string.

It makes sense that music would connect her to her soulmate.

or

How Julie finds her way back to music, joins a band, falls in love, and meets Luke Patterson (not necessarily in that order)

*a masterpiece in motion, more beautiful every day by fairylightsandrainydays

Willex, Juke

Alex Mercer is a merboy with a fascination for the human world. Willie is a prince who he saves from a storm. And Caleb Covington is the sea witch who is going to make Alex's dream come true.

So long as Caleb gets what he wants.

*days go by and seasons change (lets try again next winter) by itsagamefortwo

Juke

julie's ready for a year away from home, studying and trying to re-find the magic in music. luke's about to start on a summer tour around europe opening for a band. they meet one night, sparks fly and emotions run high. now they've just got to try and see if they can maintain a long distance friendship.

Who Could Deny These Butterflies? by xxPrettyLittleTimeBombxx

Juke

“I know this is going to sound kinda crazy…but, could you maybe pretend to be in love with me for a few minutes?”

—

When Julie Molina approaches Luke Patterson at a bar and asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend, she never expects to find herself in a position where she and Luke have to keep up the ruse for longer than five minutes. Figures that out of all of the strangers she could have approached that night, she’d gone and picked the one guy who just so happens to be in a rock band that’s on the brink of blowing up.

*relight that spark by @ruzek-halstead

Juke

julie molina has had nothing but a tough life. after losing both her parents early on, she was left in the care of her step-monster karen and her two step-daughters. while working at her late father's diner, completing household duties and being at karen's beck and call at all hours, julie was well on her way to getting accepted into the college of her dreams and having enough money to move out.

and then one day she received a text message from an unknown number. it started out innocent, crossed wires based on a flyer she put up three years ago.

this is the story of julie molina and her prince charming, and everything in between.

i never saw you coming (and i'll never be the same) by ruzekhalstead (@ruzek-halstead)

Juke

julie molina, a new student to uc berkeley, secures a job at a tiny, run-down grocery store, where she meets a group of people who inadvertently become some of the most important people in her life.

there's nothing like suffering in the workplace with your co-workers to solidify a bond.

a look into julie's life in a brand new city, as told by the customer service experience throughout the months.

an oddly specific grocery store au that no one asked for but i'm writing anyway to satisfy my brain

*Love Drunk by captainkippen

Juke

Thirty-two missed calls. Fifty-eight texts waiting. Over one hundred various social media notifications. A deep sense of foreboding took over. Julie swallowed. Slowly, she lifted the phone back to her ear.

"Flynn… what happened last night?"

After a night out in Vegas, Julie and Luke wake up to find themselves married. Hijinks ensue.

*So that's how it happens by echocharm (@echocharm17618)

Juke

But it had to be today. Julie had this crazy feeling in her stomach. Not nervous butterflies. More like fireflies that were trying to zap her (Do fireflies electrocute people? She should google that). It felt like that moment her parents spoke about all the time. The day they met. And when they first spoke to each other. Her mom always says that an intense zap went through her whole body.

Are you new or nervous? Julie has been waiting a (short)lifetime to hear those words be said to her.

She walked down a few more steps in the auditorium and found a spot. It was one of the few seats left in the room that wasn’t all the way up in the back. She sat down and settled into the uncomfortable, hard, plastic chair and took a deep shaky breath. The prof was nowhere to be seen. But there was a cute boy in the seat next to her. He had sort of long brown hair that was covered with a grey toque. And he was wearing a cut off t-shirt and you could see his very nice arms. Julie’s breathing was still shaky, and his attractiveness wasn’t helping the situation.

*we're too young to know things like love by Ephemeral_Joy

(@lydias--stiles)

Juke

The various ways and situations people notice the connection between Julie and Luke, whether that be a close friend or a complete stranger.

(started as a 5+1 fic and then i kind of went rogue. oops.)

*and i know i've kissed you before, but i didn't do it right (can i try again?) by Ephemeral_Joy (@lydias--stiles)

Juke

Some things just can't be fixed with a song.

(Julie and Luke break up.)

*The Infamous Tale of Luke and Julie's Grand Trip Across America by Ephemeral_Joy (@lydias--stiles)

Juke

In any normal situation, Luke wouldn't let this random girl hitchhike with him across America.

Then again, he wasn't normal. And neither was she.

(or: the roadtrip!au no one asked for)

*We Found Wonderland by ICanSpellConfusionWithAK (@pink-flame)

At the end of season one Julie isn’t able to save the boys and they are jolted out of existence. But what if there was another way? Julie finds herself back in 1995 with a chance to stop the boys of Sunset Curve from ever dying at all. But will she be able to find her way home afterwards? Will she want to? Or has Alice really gone down the rabbit hole this time...

A Moment of Quiet Conversation by JackONeillisTheMan

Juke

Julie and Luke talk about how he was the one who introduced her to rock. Then just fluff, more and more fluff.

*Feels like I've opened my eyes again by ICanSpellConfusionWithAK (@pink-flame)

Juke

After the whirlwind her life has been since the boys showed up it’s not that surprising that Julie would be a little tired. But is it normal that she’s more exhausted than she’s ever been? With Nick acting weird, Alex and Reggie both wrapped up in their own problems and her relationship with Luke still a big question mark, she has her work cut out for her if she’s looking to sit back and relax.

Basically my ideas and speculation about what season 2 might hold, or at least some of the things I would like to see.

find the strength, find the melody by sunset_phantom

Juke

An AU in which the boys are alive, Julie has been kicked out of her music program, and she somehow ends up falling in love with Luke in three days while he simultaneously brings her back to her first love of all: music.

after silence, wake me up by Vargynja

Juke

Julie hasn't been able to make music after her mother's death. She lives in New York working as an assistant for Luke, working hard to move forward in her career.

Luke finds out he's about to be deported back to Canada. A panicked lie leads them to fake a relationship to get married so he can stay in the country. Despite working together for two years they aren't close but a trip to Alaska to visit Julie's family might change that

Based on the premise of The Proposal (2009)

[mattmurdocksscars]

Just A Dream

Some Santiago angst with a hopeful ending. Might do a follow-up to this one, not too sure yet. This is based on and uses a cover of the song Just a Dream. I love this cover so much and I hope you enjoy it as well! 

Fair warning, I totally wrote this in one go so if there are grammar issues, spelling issues, etc. I’m sorry 😂

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

Word Count: 2508

It didn’t matter that it had been over 2 years since the last time you saw Santiago Garcia, you still missed him every day. He had been your everything, the one you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with… but then he’d told you he was going to Columbia. The two of you had fought bitterly. You, wondering why you weren’t enough to keep him here, and him, wondering why you wouldn’t let him do this one last mission. Words of anger had poured from both of your lips, wounding the other easier than a blade or bullet ever could. Santi had slept on the couch that night and was gone by the time you woke in the morning. You had instantly regretted the words you’d said, the feeling intensified by his refusal to answer your calls or texts. You found out from Frankie that he had left immediately for the airport and was already in the air by the time you’d found him gone. Frankie had then held you as you’d broken down, angry and broken over the fact that he hadn’t given you a chance to fix things.

So, for over two years, you missed him. You saw him in strangers on the streets or in coffee shops. You looked for him in every vaguely familiar face you passed. Yet never once was he there. Santiago would contact Frankie occasionally, but never you. You would ask Frankie to pass a message along for you whenever he spoke to Santiago, but it was never answered. Santiago would simply gloss over it. It broke you down, turned you into a shell of the woman you used to be. It took Frankie, Will, and Benny finally sitting you down and giving you tough love for you to snap out of it. You still missed him, oh did you miss him, but you started doing the things you loved again. You started spending time with the boys again and even made some new friends.

When Frankie told you that Santiago was back in town to recruit him and the other boys for some recce, you had waiting with bated breath, hoping he would reach out or swing by. He never did and the five men left to complete one more mission together. When Frankie called you on his way back into the country, you had cried in relief and in sadness. Tom and you had never really gotten along, but he was important to the other boys. You knew that Santiago would be blaming himself, knew that Frankie, Will, and Benny would be too. You met them in the airport when they came back, crying again when you saw the three boys who had become like brothers to you. Despite your joy at seeing them, your heart still didn’t feel whole. Santiago was nowhere to be found and when you had turned inquisitive eyes to Frankie, he had simply sighed and shook his head. Santiago was still not coming home.

You buried yourself in distractions. You worked, taking overtime whenever possible, spent time with the boys, started going out with your new friends. They’d convinced you to start meeting with them every Saturday night and then eventually convinced you to sing karaoke with them. You were no star, but you could carry a tune and had a decent voice and you found that singing was an incredible way to release all of your pent-up emotions. The boys had even come to see you a few times, cheering you on obnoxiously loudly. It was one such night, that your whole world flipped upside down.

Frankie had text you earlier that day to tell you that Santiago was back in town. Your hands had shaken as you texted him back, asking him the same question you always did: Will he talk to me? Frankie was honest, told you that he wasn’t sure, but he would try. When you didn’t hear anything further from him, you continued with your usual ritual of getting ready and heading to the bar with your friends. You lost yourself in the music, singing a few songs with your friends and on your own. It was as you were getting ready for a solo that you looked up and everything stopped. Entering the bar was the boys, one Santiago Garcia in tow. Your name was called, and your attention snapped over to the announcer, your heart pounding as you remembered your song choice. Wiping your sweaty hands on your jeans, you walked up and took the mic, the crowd cheering you on. You took a deep breath and smiled, determined to force the knowledge of Santi being in the same room as you for the first time to the back of your mind. The music started, a piano medley to begin, and you closed your eyes, waiting on your time to come in.

I was thinkin about you, thinkin about me

Thinkin about us, what we gonna be?

Open my eyes

It was only just a dream

Travel back, down that road

Will you come back? No one knows

I realize, it was only just a dream

Opening your eyes, the lights helped blind you to the audience, helping you forget just who was watching you. Swaying gently, you poured your heart into the performance.

I was at the top and now it’s like I'm in the basement

Number one spot and now you found your own replacement

I swear now that I can't take it, knowing somebody's got my baby

And now you ain't around, baby I can't think

You sang through the rest of the verse and the chorus with no problems, but the start of the second verse had your eyes stinging as you fought back tears.

When I be ridin, And I swear I see your face at every turn

I'm trying to get my usher on, but I can't let it burn

And I just hope you know that you're the only one I yearn for

More and more I miss him, when will I learn?

Didn't give it all my love

I guess now I got my payback

Now I'm in the club thinking all about you baby

Hey, you were so easy to love

But wait, I guess our love wasn't enough

I'm goin through it every time that I'm alone

And now I'm wishing that you'd pick up the phone

But you made a decision that you wanted to move on

Cuz I was wrong

It took every bit of strength in you to make it through the verse without crying. This part had always hit you so hard, feeling it so strongly due to what had happened in yours and Santiago’s relationship. Singing through the second chorus, you took a deep breath as you headed into the third verse, opening your eyes again to look out at the crowd. They were like shadows to you but even still, you would recognize your boys anywhere. Forcing your eyes away from them and back to the main crowd, you slowly raised one of your hands.

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

And now they're gone and you're wishing you could give them everything

Said if you ever loved somebody put your hands up

If you ever loved somebody put your hands up

Now they're gone and you're wishing you could give them everything

You drug the last word of the verse out, adding your own flair as you always did. Singing the last two chorus, you continued to adjust it and put every ounce of heartbreak and longing you had into it. As your last note faded out and the music finished, you were greeted with thunderous applause. Laughing in shock, you quickly gave the mic back to the announcer and headed back over to your friends. They were ecstatic, congratulating you and telling you about how this was the best one you’d done yet. You grinned, blushing at their praise.

“Hey! Aren’t those your other friends? Who’s the cute new guy with them?” And just like that, your good mood tanked. You looked over at their table, Benny waving enthusiastically at you as he always did, and turned back to your friends before the others could look over.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s them. Umm.. you remember me telling you about my ex?”

“Yeah, the jackass that left you after a fight and has been gone for two… years… Fuck.” Realization had dawned on the groups face and you smiled tentatively at them. Immediately, an arm was wrapped around your shoulders and you were pulled roughly, but lovingly, into one of the girls’ sides.

“Fuck him. If he thinks he can just walk back into your life after the shit he put you through, he’s dead wrong.” Ah yes. That was Zoe. Fiercely protective, she was like a sister to you. Taking a deep breath, you patted her hand that was on your shoulder.

“Relax. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night and I’ll deal with it later.” You told her softly. She looked at you, checking to make sure you were actually alright, before nodding. With a mischievous grin, she flagged down your waitress and ordered the two of you shots, much to your amusement. When they arrived, she handed you yours and held hers aloft. You matched her action and clinked the glasses together, tapped them on the table, and tossed yours back.

“To a good rest of the night.” She told you and you grinned, nodding in agreement. For the first time ever, you never went over to the boys’ table. You stayed with your friends but despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop your eyes wandering every now and then. The first time you caught Santi’s eye, your breath caught in your chest as you tried to figure out what to do but Santi solved it for you, tipping his head and giving you a tentative smile. You had taken a deep breath and given him a shaky smile before your friends had called your attention back to them.

The two of you spend the rest of the night like that. Sneaking glances at the other and looking away shortly after locking eyes. A part of you so desperately wanted to cross the bar and jump into Santiago’s arms, but a bigger part of you was afraid and a little angry. Your friends were right to an extent. He didn’t deserve to just waltz back into your life. You also had no idea if that was even what he wanted. For all you knew, he had moved on.

As the night came to an end, you helped your friends out and got them into their rides safe and sound. Watching the last one leave, you took a deep breath and let it out. Closing your eyes, you stood in the darkness for a few moments but jumped as a voice broke the silence.

“It’s pretty dangerous to stand outside of a bar this late at night, you know.” Every muscle in your body locked up, your spine going ramrod straight, and your breathing halting. Walking towards you was Santiago, hands shoved into his pockets. You stared at him wide-eyed for several seconds, giving him time to approach you and stand across from you. His eyes flitted over your form, seeming to drink you in. It gave you time to get your brain back online and formulate a response.

“Luckily for me, I know three knuckleheads who would kick the ass of anyone who tried to hurt me.” You told him. It was your turn to let your gaze wander over him, and you were surprised when he seemed to be hurt by what you said.

“Just three?” He asked you, voice soft and questioning. Your eyebrows shot up and you stared at him in shock before you furrowed your brows, a spark of anger igniting in your chest.

“You tell me, Santiago.” This time he actually flinched, the use of his full name causing him to look down at his boots. You watched his jaw clench, and it was so hard to keep yourself from reaching out to comfort him. You shoved your traitorous hands into your own pockets and continued to stare at him, waiting for his response. He took a deep breath and dragged his gaze to up to meet yours and you were shocked at the amount of emotion in them.

“I’m sorry. I never should have left the way I did. I regretted it the second that plane took off, but I was too much of a coward to fix my mistake.  Every time I called Frankie, I hoped he would give me an update on you-“

“So why the hell didn’t you call me?” You asked, voice wavering as you felt the past two years’ worth of hurt boil over, tears slipping down your cheeks. The pain on your face was mirrored on Santi’s as he watched you break down, his own tears welling up.

“I knew if I heard your voice, heard how much I had hurt you… nothing would have stopped me from coming back to you but I… I was afraid. How was I supposed to face you after leaving like I did?”

“So what? You think you can just come back after over two years and think all is forgiven?”

“No! I… I want you to give me a chance. I’m not asking for things to go back to the way they were. I’m asking you to let me win you over again. Let me spend every day making it up to you and proving to you that I will never leave you again.” His stare bored into yours, both of you crying now. You looked at him and you saw all of the pain you’d been through in his absence, but you also saw the potential you’d always seen. A bright future, one full of love. Taking a deep, steadying breath you stepped closer to him. Pulling your hands out of your pockets you reached for his, tugging them out of his pockets and holding them. Looking down at them, you marveled how they fit in yours like they used to.

“One chance, Garcia. One. Don’t make me regret it.” Santiago immediately tugged you into his arms, holding you close to him. You clung to him just as tight before pulling away slowly. You put one hand on his cheek, running your thumb over his skin, before stepping back. You nodded to him and smiled.

“You better come at this with your A game. I expect nothing less.” Pressing a kiss to his other cheek, you let your hand fall and turned away, walking away from him, and feeling lighter than you had since before he left.

“I will, mi alma. I swear it.” He whispered, watching you walk away and feeling like he might finally be righting his wrongs.

[chocolate-parfait]

Hiii! I saw that your requests are open, and I want to ask for a Mozart scenario 👉👈. MC/Reader (whichever you prefer) has gone back to her time for a long time (even tho she wasn’t planning for long) but when she comes back she also has Mozart’s kid in her arms (but everyone knows before him coz he is obviously at his piano lmao). So the residents plan to surprise him? If it’s too specific feel free to ignore this. Make sure you sleep sufficiently and drink some water😗😗 thank u in advance :)

Sorry it took me so long! I barely had the time to sleep this past month😳 I hope it was worth the wait-

A gift from Fate - Ikemen Vampire (Mozart)

“I don’t think we should listen in on them...” The cherry haired man whispered.

“Shh Ai-chan. Mozie-kun might hear us!”

“Tofu lover here is right, old Newt. And how could we pass up a chance of seeing that cold-hearted wolf shed a tear or two? It’s a once in a lifetime occasion!” Added the writer, resting his left hand on the scientist’s shoulder.

“Ugh, why did I even ask you two, of all people... Sebastian, tell them something already!” Isaac lamented once more.

“Unfortunately, Master Isaac, I’m afraid to say I’m quite curious myself to see Master Mozart’s reaction. It’s for scientific purpose, after all.”

“For what?” Nine pairs of eyes flew to the butler’s figure.

“Oh, nevermind that.”

"Leonardo, would you mind throwing your cigar away? They'll catch the smell of it" Comte’s placid tone filled the small space.

"What, you curious too, "Comte"? Heh, as his majesty desires" Leonardo complied, putting out his cigarillo against the ground with a dramatic gesture, gaining a displeased glance from the nobleman.

"...thank you. Oh, I believe he's almost there. Everybody, please be quiet."

As their sire spoke these words, all the vampires got closer to the small opening of the door. Some could barely see anything, but the wooden surface was thin enough to let any and all sounds reach the hidden listeners’ attentive ears.

The person that had them all hidden in a small storage room adjacent to the parlor was none other than Mozart. The love of his life had just returned from the future with a surprise of a companion glued to her side, but the man was yet to show his face. He had been, as always ever since her departure a couple of years before, focused on composing his tunes, now devoid of their old brightness and tempo, just like the composer himself.

It was as clear as day that, although his external composure remained unchanged, his heart had decided to freeze himself, a thick layer of frozen indifference to hide a pain akin to that of being torn in half, cruelly and mercilessly. Whenever he let his guards down even the slightest bit, he found himself on a battlefield over which time had no influence whatsoever, and where the ice and snow perfectly preserved the destruction and desolation born from his loss. The blood from a still fresh and open wound laid on the ground, as strong winds hit him with the warm whispers of a long-lost sun, nowhere to be seen.

That was the devastated state in which his being was left in, unaware of the sympathetic smile Fate was now offering him.

That day, a mysterious note found its way between the pianist’s hands, the words “Meet me at 18.00 in the parlor. It’s a matter of utmost importance” written in an impeccable cursive of other times, clearly belonging to one of the many inhabitants of the mansion. When it came to such intimate business, they usually preferred keeping a certain distance from unfolding events, but seeing the hesitation and fear of rejection on the woman’s face, they had all agreed to lend her a hand and give a little pull on the red string that connected the two lovers.

As punctual as ever, when the clock’s hands moved to the predetermined time, Mozart knocked stiffly on the door, finally making his entrance in the scene.

Barely two steps in the room and he found himself stuck in place, incredulous eyes fixed on the feminine figure in front of him. His violet eyes immediately found her face, and his body moved towards hers, attracted by an invisible force that had kept them tied to each other in spite of time and space. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, though his feverish dreams and hazy memories couldn’t hold a candle to the real her.

As impatience shook his body with a strong wave of trembles, with a quick movement he trapped her in a soul-crushing embrace that overflowed with all his longing and love; as his arms tightly caged her to his torso, he nuzzled her neck, finding her warm skin with the cold tip of his nose.

One deep inhale, then another. And another one.

She smelled divine.

Oh, how he had missed that dazzlingly sweet scent, those soft locks tickling his pale cheeks now flush with various emotions, that small pair of arms circling his body and squeezing him tightly. Was this a dream? Had he finally reached the afterlife for a second time? If so then he didn’t want to go back. If living in an illusion meant being with her then he was ready to throw away the real world with no second thoughts. But this, this was real. His mind had already acknowledged it, leaving the heart behind to process its own feelings.

“Meine Geliebte-” (my beloved)

“Mozart-”

They said in unison, voices mixing with harmony in a euphonious melody.

As he pulled back a little to look her in the eyes, a small voice came from behind her body. “Mama...” When Mozart lowered his eyes to meet the small figure’s, he was met with a small child, around 4 or 5 years of age. Before his thoughts could even reach the idea of betrayal, he couldn’t help but notice how every single feature, although still not fully developed, was a mixture of one of his and his lover’s own. The similarity was painfully clear, but once more the brain outrun the heart, and Mozart felt his heartbeat fall to his stomach.

“This is...” The woman started with a wavering voice, maybe from the emotion or perhaps because of insecurity. “This is our son, Charles.”

“Our... son...?” The pianist slowly repeated, trying to give more time to his now nearly-exploding heart.

Bending down to meet those violet orbs so similar to his own, he smiled fondly, reaching a hand out to slowly caress the boy’s head. As he did so, a myriad of realizations hit Mozart like a carriage running at full speed. He could not believe he had missed his son’s birth, his first steps, his first words. The fruit of their love, a life born out of their union. No amount of apologies and care could give him back all that, and the thought brought tears to his eyes.

“Papa! No leave Mama anymore!” The boy suddenly pleaded as he threw himself between his father’s arms. Oh, but of course he wouldn't. How could he? Not anymore. He wasn’t so stupid as to let that damned door separate them again, and not even God could part them anymore. But would the boy understand? He was but a stranger to him, and he did commit the terrible mistake of letting the only person he truly cared for slip away from his grasp once, so how could he blame him for having such thoughts?

“No, I won't. I promise you.” Placing a warm hand on his son's back, maybe as a way to seal his vow, he brought the small, trembling body closer to his chest, trying with all his might to instill in him the sense of security that only a father's embrace can give.

After silently witnessing the whole scene in solemn silence and stillness, smiles and some tears bloomed on the woman and the secret onlookers' faces. As the child shakily whimpered in his finally-found paternal figure's neck, his mother kneeled by his side, where Mozart's arm took her in as he pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. Their passionate reunion could wait for later that night, now all that mattered was being together, aware of each other's presence, warmth and smell. That was more than enough. “Thank you for coming back. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Unfortunately for them though, an interruption soon came to disturb their peace. Low whispers came from behind the door, and the pianist's trained ear caught them with no effort.

"Woohoo, that was a good one, Wolfie!"

"Shouldn't we just go already? If he were to catch us he'd go on a rampage"

"Still, I wish I could give him a round of applause! It was really moving~"

Mozart turned his violet eyes, now chilly with cold annoyance, towards the source of the hushed voices, silencing them immediately. Though he would have to thank them for the note, he knew they wouldn't have let him hear the end of it with their teasing comments and jokes. Before his thoughts could take the highway to a possible massacre, Charles' brought his attention back to where it belonged.

"Papa... can you show me your piano?"

Such a simple request brought spring into his heart, once plunged into a state of eternal winter. Feeling his every cell overflowing with love and gratitude he simply nodded, adding: "Sure, shall we go?"

Well, his revenge could wait for later. Now he had a lot of catching up to do, both with his love and son, and making them wait longer was definitely unacceptable.

Perhaps Fate had truly decided to be a little kinder to him in his second life.

[iballisticcatt]

Old and New Friends

Note: Some of this writing is not my own.  rainbows-fanfics let me have a draft and create this. Thanks!

Louis’ POV

It had been a bit over a year since the Delta. Violet had started to get social again and Willy ended up making a prosthetic for Clementine. Life had been good, great even. I was in the piano room, playing away anything I could remember or any sheet music I found before the other music room burnt down. The door creaked open and scared me, making me jump and scream like a girl. Clementine came in laughing.

“That scream was amazing Louis,” Clementine chuckled, “Do it again!”

I became defensive but playful, “I was in the middle of playing piano when that door decided to creak in the middle of me playing!” 

Clem made her way over to the bench and sat down on my left, putting her head on my shoulder.

“I was thinking back to that card game we played when I first got here. You remember when I talked about that baseball player I met?” Clem seemed to be a bit brighter than usual as she spoke.

I responded, clawing into my memory to see if I could recollect, “Very, very vaguely.”

“Well, I was wondering if we could take a trip down there, the wars going on in the area are sure to have died down by this point, and Javi would be glad to see me. It’s where Richmond used to be, It’s called New Richmond, It is pretty far from here, but we can make good time if we find a car. It’s 300 miles from here to there. It should be about a week’s walk from here.” Clementine seemed excited at the prospect of seeing these people again, how could I say no to a face like that?

“Sounds like a hard trip, but I’m in. Who’s coming with us?” 

Clem smirked and looked right into my eyes, “Just us.”

That was unexpected, to say the least, but I was all for it. I nodded and smiled at the thought of being alone with her for so long. We both got up and went outside and explained the idea to everyone. Clem did most of the talking while I sat there and looked dumb. The idea eventually passed through and everyone helped us pack, we were going to head out in two days.

The two days passed, and with several goodbyes from A.J and Violet hugging me out of nowhere, we were off. Those days on the road were harder than I had ever expected, it only made me feel more guilty for leaving Clem and A.J to die in the forest, before the Delta. They were also some of the best. The cuddle sessions were amazing by the fire each day as one of us was on watch while the other slept. Seven days on the road and we finally arrived at gates with spikes on the ends of it and a control platform above it. As I first saw the gate, my mind forced me to blurt out, “This gives off medal music vibes to me.” Clem chuckled and said simply, “That’s kinda the point, don’t you think?” I replied quickly, “Yep.” As we approached the gates we saw a boy in an orange beanie, tallish, and holding an AK-47. 

Clem yelled out at the boy, “GUESS WHO’S BACK GABE?”

The boy jumped and looked at us, gun raised, then lowered it after looking a bit longer.

“Clementine? Is that seriously you?” The boy seemed shocked and happy

“In the flesh.”

The gates opened as Gabe came out and approached, I was walking beside Clem as the boy came and eyed me.

“Who are you?” He asked, strength in his voice.

“I am Louis, Clem’s boyfriend, she wanted me to meet you and Javier. I’ve heard about you guys from her.” I replied with strength above his own, subconsciously asserting my dominance over him.

His face dropped a bit at this realization. The face he made confused me a bit, but I brushed it off as Gabe spoke, “Well Clem, You are always welcome here to New Richmond, so let’s come in and find Kate and Javi, I’m sure they will be as glad to see you as I am and meet a new face.”

We were guided through the gates and a clang followed as they shut, seeming to trap us here. I hoped they wouldn’t kill us, I was sure they wouldn’t though. We followed a road down through the city, the buildings tall and unlike something I had seen since I was ten. We stopped in front of an apartment complex, the building standing tall with a raven or a crow standing in the front. We entered the building and climbed a flight of stairs before arriving at a door.

“Well, here is their apartment, I need to go back and get on watch, have fun.”

I quipped and smirked, “We certainly will!”

Clem looked at me and turned bright red, “Louis!” 

I just chuckled and knocked on the door three times. We waited for a second before the door opened and a tall man with black, moppy hair and a beard opened the door.

“Guess who’s back?”

“Clementine?”

A woman’s voice came from inside the house, “Wait, are you talking to Clementine? Is she back?”

The man, whom I assumed to be Javier, called back and said excitedly, “Yeah, it is! I can’t believe it! Wait, who is this?”

Clem responded, warmness in her voice, “Javi, this is my boyfriend Louis! Been with him a year and I adore him, I brought him along to meet you guys.”

Javier eyed me before sticking his hand out, I took it in kind, giving a firm grip to return his own. 

“Well come on in, Kate can’t wait to see you, Clem!” Javi seemed to be ultra excited, it had been a while since they had seen another. 

The one I assumed to be Kate stood up, her bangs split into thirds on her head with a braid in the back. She hugged Clementineshe was caring before eying me.

“Who might you be?” Kate seemed slightly concerned at my presence, her protective mode seemingly kicking in.

I replied, trying to defuse the tension, “I, am Louis, Clementine’s boyfriend.” I laid a kiss on Clem’s forehead as Kate relaxed a bit.

Javier spoke up, “Well, the last time I saw Clem she had the personality of an aggressive rock.”

I laughed, too long for Clementine’s liking. 

“I can’t imagine her like anything else but a teddy bear!” I replied between laughs and wheezes. Man, I like this guy already. 

A knock came back to the door, Three taps. Javi moved over to the door and there stood Gabe.

Gabe spoke, “My watch shift just ended, figured I’d hang out with you guys.” 

Javi looked over at Clem, “Well Clem, Kate and I would like to show you some of the newer things here in New Richmond,” Javi turned to face me, “You sure you’ll be okay with Gabe here?”

I replied with humor, “Of course, I have to be on my best behavior for my teddy bear here!”

Clementine punched my arm and chuckled. 

Kate entered the room, “We’ll get going, see you guys in a bit.”

They left without another word, stranding me with Gabe. We turned to face each other and I gave him an honest grin, nodding once in his direction. He smiled and awkwardly copied the gesture. We were then left in silence, our eye contact slipping as neither of us dared to start talking. I twiddled my thumbs under the table as I thought of what to say.

"So..." I whistled under my breath. "You're an old friend of Clem's?"

He looked surprised as I started speaking, but nodded in regards to the question. "Yeah, you could say that."

"How do you know her?" I pressed.

This may be awkward, but I was least getting to know him some more. I felt that was appropriate to do in this time frame until Clem got back. Gabe looked startled before going quiet, staring at the table and messing with his cuticles in thought. He looked up and shrugged, not bothering to make eye contact with me.

"Clementine helped us with overrunning the New Frontier. I helped her with some things and Javi said we made a great team together. Whether it was taking out walkers or playing a card game. She was just nice to be around."

I arched my eyebrow in interest. "Card games?"

"Oh, yeah, I, uh, taught her one." He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. "I think it was euchre."

"How about you and I play one, then?" I offered, grabbing the deck out of my usual pocket and holding it in my hands. "While we wait for them to get back, of course."

His eyes lit up. A good sign. "Shit? You carry a deck around with you, too?"

"You bet! Never know when the opportunity is gonna' come. I find that card games help lighten the mood." I dealt him a pile. "How about we play...war? Easy and shouldn't take that long."

"You seem to have a lot of confidence," He commented as he took his pile. I shrugged.

We started by focusing on the game first, easing into it by dealing with our cards. We had the same rank right out of the bat and, after turning them over, I found Gabe had the higher cards. I winched watching him take them and tuck them under his pile. Not a great start on my end, but I was sure I'd be doing better as the game progressed. We did a couple more rounds before I decided to speak again, clearing my throat.

"You said Clem was fun to be around with. Why's that?" His eyes looked into mine. They were too tense, so I followed it with a joke. "Didn't she, like, scare you? She has this aura about her, doesn't she? Freaked me out when I first met her."

"Oh, yeah." He gave a pitiful laugh. "I thought she hated me. Didn't think she'd ever talk to me."

"Right?" I laughed along. "I thought she'd stab me in my sleep when I first met her."

"She's intimidating, but I think that's why I liked her, you know? She's...interesting, once you get to know her."

He wore a shy smile as he flipped his card. I didn't say anything about it, not even when I won the round and took the cards. Gabe was right, after all. Clementine was a tough shell to crack, but when you got to know her, she was caring. To those, she liked, anyway. I admired her toughness as much as the next guy, and as much as it fazed me, I still didn't let it stop me from flirting with her.

"You're pretty good," He told me. I nodded back to him.

"You, too."

"So, Louis, uh..." He drummed his fingers against the table. "How do you know Clem? How did you guys meet exactly?"

"I think it was about a year ago. My friend, Marlon, found her and A.J. in a car crash near our boarding school. They treated Clem, but A.J. was a lot to handle without her there. He didn't exactly warm up to us at first. He was giving my friend Ruby a lot of issues. He even bit her on the hand just because she walked up from behind him."

"Oh, shit." Gabe cringed. I nodded and followed with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, I calmed him down by playing the piano. I don't know how long it was until Clem came into the room and met with him again. When she told me her name, I couldn't help it." A shit-eating grin grew on my face. "When she asked for another song, I sang her 'Oh My Darlin' Clementine'."

"How did she feel about that? She'd have punched me."

"She told me she loved that song. So I kept playing. I thought it would get on her nerves but it didn't. Not like that's an issue; I've found other ways to get under her skin."

I saw I had won the round and collected my share. By this point, we were getting closer to the end of the game. I was winning right now; Gabe's pile got smaller while we were talking. I grinned as we flipped over our next set of cards, hoping to get this meaningless victory just so I'd have something to talk about later. I noticed Gabe's sudden silence and glanced up. He was staring at his cards, a troubled expression on his face.

"Sorry, I meant to go easy but my cards were just too good." I rubbed my hand along my coat conceitedly.

He looked up in surprise. How do I manage to keep startling him just by talking? Either that or he was spacing out a lot. "O-Oh, uh, I was just...thinking."

"Well, then. Penny for your thoughts? They're not back yet and, as good as I am at winning, the game isn't exactly over just yet."

"Yeah." He chuckled nervously, watching as I won the round again. "I, uh...I was just wondering something. Like, um, how you and Clem are...together." His hesitation made me quirk an eyebrow. "The last time I saw her, she was really serious and kind of, well, hard at times. You're the exact opposite. How did she...fall for you, exactly?"

My eyes widened in surprise. I wasn't sure how to respond to that question. Juggling the card box in my hand, I thought about it seriously for a moment. "Well, I guess making her laugh a lot helped."

"How do you do that, though? It was hard just to get her to smile when I last with her." His frown deepened. "But you do it so easily...you don't even have to say anything and she still smiles."

"Heh." My chest warmed at that. "I don't know, honestly. It's usually me making a stupid joke and just hoping someone will laugh. If she finds it funny, she'll laugh."

His look didn't change. "Yeah. That makes sense."

It grew tense as we ended the game, all the cards in my pile. I expected to feel triumphant for winning, but the look on his face made me feel guilty for naturally doing so good at the game. I knitted my eyebrows together as I stuffed the cards back in, wondering what went wrong in our conversation. As I closed the lid and slid it back in my pocket, I faced him again.

"Well, that was fun! We should play another after dinner." It encouraged me to see him nod slightly. "I'm sure Clem will want to join, too."

He perked up. "Really?"

I wondered why he reacted that way so quickly. Before I question anything about it, we heard footsteps coming. Gabe smiled looking past me and stood from his seat, moving faster than I could get off of the bench. The door opened as we saw Clem, Kate, and Javier coming in. They were smiling, but I could tell just from the look on Clementine's face that there was something important. Gabe greeted them and I followed behind, slipping my hand into Clem's.

"You guys are back quicker than I thought," Gabe commented.

"Everyone's doing their job. We just checked in on things. We saw Jesus too." Javi explained. "What have you and Louis been up to?"

"We played a short game of war."

"And I won. Naturally." I added. Clem shoved my side as she rolled her eyes. I noticed Gabe watching us intently through the corner of my eye. As I turned, he faced his uncle.

"I can help you get everyone for dinner. And set things up."

"Thanks, Gabriel." 

Dinner was a blur, everything blends together when everyone is laughing. The next day Clementine and I left, giving our goodbyes. I was sad to go, Gabe was a cool dude, but that’s just how it goes. Seven days later and A.J tackles Clementine and then me. We were home.

[chaoticpuff17]

Suga, We’re Going Down

part 3

Masterlist

Alright my darlings! Sorry this chapter isn’t more exciting after a long wait, but school is kicking my ass. Hopefully this still has some surprises for you though!---chaotic puff

Y/N sat on the bus wondering to herself how she had gotten herself into this mess. The weight of the coat settled around her shoulders and the scent of his cologne wafting up from the thick fabric was a firm reminder that the night had not been a dream. Yoongi had insisted she needed a coat. It was too cold for her to be out without one. Nina had insisted that she couldn’t show up at the club in her old tan coat and the heavy knitted scarf that Halmeoni had made for her so many years before, so she’d been without any protection from the cold. Yoongi had given her his, draping the maroon material across her shoulders and wishing her goodnight when she realized that he realized that she didn’t have a coat of her own. He’d grinned waving off her concerns telling her he had plenty of other coats. She didn’t doubt it. The man was willing to pay her four million won per meeting. Of course he could afford more than one coat. It was probably nothing to him.

The man was oddly attentive to her. The whole thing was odd. What kind of man in his position was interested in a little mouse like her? She certainly wasn’t the prettiest woman in the world, and he had to have beautiful women swarming around him, models, actresses, idols. What had made him choose her? What made a man willing to pay so much money for a woman when he had so many other options before him?

It didn’t make sense, but who was she to question it? He was literally paying for her life, and they desperately needed the money. All she wanted to do was go home and curl up in her bed, see Eun Jae sleeping safe and sound. She would feel better after seeing him. She would feel like herself again, because she certainly didn’t feel like herself right now.

She felt, in part, like she was making a mistake, but she didn’t have many other options. And every single option she had would break her grandmother’s heart. There wasn’t an option that wouldn’t break her heart, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was her family.

Her father had sent them spiraling into a pit of debt they’d been trying to climb out of for years. Her music lessons hadn’t helped that burden, neither had her college tuition, but her grandfather had seen something in her from a young age. He had seen how much his granddaughter loved music, how the little girl looked at the keys of a piano in wonder. Her parents hadn’t cared. They hadn’t noticed, but her grandparents had, and they insisted on nurturing that spark.

The old man had bundled her up when she was just four years old, on a cold winter morning, and shuttled her off to her first piano lesson. There had been no looking back after that. When her grandfather died three years later, her grandmother took her to lessons.

At the age of seven, she’d discovered the cello, just after her grandfather’s passing. Her piano teacher had had a friend, who taught lessons, and had helped to negotiate a price that would be manageable for them. So from then on every Saturday of her childhood, she’d been marched first to her piano lesson as usual and then to her cello lesson. A year after her cello lessons started, her mother left, and from there, her father had only sunk them further and further into debt. Eventually, they could no longer support lessons for both instruments. One of them had to go, and so at the age of thirteen, there were no more piano lessons. She still played of course, but her main focus had become the cello.

Ha Jin had never showed any particular interest in anything like music, not sports, or language, or her studies, not the restaurant either. She wanted to be anything, but what they were, poor and insignificant. She was always getting into trouble. She had a reputation in their neighborhood for being a shoplifter, a poor student, and generally just a bad kid. She wasn’t someone parents wanted their children hanging around.

And then came the summer she turned seventeen. Y/N would never know how she did it, but Ha Jin had managed to force herself into a circle of people she never should have crossed paths with in the first place. It could never be said that Ha Jin wasn’t smart. She was in fact, very intelligent. She just wasn’t using that intelligence for academics. Instead she used it to weasel her way into a group of upper class, wealthy kids. She wanted more than their little restaurant, and in her eyes, those kids were her ticket to something better, her ticket out. That’s where she had met Eun Jae’s dad.

Kim Taehyung was the son of a well to do family. He was handsome, charismatic, and a little older than Y/N. Before anyone could talk some sense into her, Ha Jin had gotten swept up in the lies she had weaved around herself. She’d lied about so many things, her age, her family, her circumstances. It had gotten so bad she’d begun to see herself as being one of them. She thought they had accepted her, that she was one of them, but she was wrong. She was a pet, a project, an amusement. Specifically, she’d been Taehyung’s amusement, the silly little girl who hung off his every word, a summer fling that would quickly be forgotten. Once Ha Jin had gotten pregnant, there was no hiding her lies anymore. She was just seventeen, but she had a baby to think of. She was going to be a mother, and there would be no father to help.

Taehyung and his family wanted nothing to do with the pregnancy. It was a youthful indiscretion that wouldn’t ruin their son’s life. He was in college, the heir to a good family. They weren’t going to allow an illegitimate child to ruin that for him, let alone an illegitimate child from a youthful dalliance with a gold digger.

Ha Jin had been inconsolable. She was convinced that he was going to come for her that he was going to take her away and make her a great lady, claiming that he wouldn’t abandon his child. But everyone else knew that that would never be the case. The farther into her pregnancy she got, the more bitter Ha Jin became. It was a struggle for Y/N and her grandmother to get the younger girl to take care of herself. She didn’t want to see the doctor. She didn’t want to go to school. She didn’t want to take the vitamins she was supposed to take. She didn’t want to set up a nursery. She wanted the baby gone, blaming a child that hadn’t even been born yet for ruining her life.

It wasn’t even a week after Eun Jae was born that she took off. They hadn’t seen her since. She hadn’t even named the child. She remembered waking up in the middle of the night to Eun Jae’s screams. The poor little boy had been inconsolable. He was hungry, he was tired, and his diaper was uncomfortably full. She’d scooped up him up holding him close as she put together a bottle for him gently rocking him and cooing softly trying to settle the poor child. Ha Jin was nowhere to be found. She hadn’t left so much as a note behind.

From that point on, Eun Jae was her son. She and Halmeoni had named him after her grandfather, hoping the name would bring him the same happiness in life that her grandfather had had. They took him to all hid doctor’s appointments. He was a beautiful healthy baby, and the sweetest little one that there ever was, but they might have been biased.

Y/N was immensely relieved to arrive home, to get herself out of those heels and to see her baby. The house was quiet, indicating that Nina had successfully gotten the little one to bed. She was a good friend and a good aunt for Eun Jae, but she was notorious for being a push over when it came to him. But that hadn’t been the case on that night. She found them both curled up fast asleep on the bed. Eun Jae was tucked up under the blankets sprawled like a little starfish and clutching his favorite dinosaur. Bambam the dinosaur had been a gift right after he’d first been born. He never slept without it. Nina was curled up next to him on top of the blankets, equally as lost to sleep as the toddler.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Quietly she fished out some extra blankets. One she draped over Nina so she wouldn’t catch cold. The other she threw on the sofa. She’d make her bed there tonight so she wouldn’t disturb the pair that were already fast asleep. Talking to Nina about everything could wait. They all needed some sleep.

She woke up the next morning to Eun Jae bouncing on top of her screaming something about breakfast and cartoons. She groggily sat up rubbing the sleep from her eyes and smiling tiredly at her son.

“Okay, buddy. Just give eomma a minute, okay?” She asked smiling at him. She glanced over at the bed to see Nina turned over with her head under a pillow. Clearly she hadn’t been as ready to let go of sleep for the sake of the toddler.

She got up moving to the little kitchenette to make breakfast, all the while the little guy was hanging off her leg eagerly chattering about all the things he wanted them to do that day. Mostly it consisted of cartoons. As much as she loved him, she did not have the energy to deal with children’s cartoons and their horribly annoying theme songs without a strong cup of tea.

“Okay, buddy. You go take a seat, and I’ll start on breakfast.” She smiled, an evil glint in her eye. “You can wake up Auntie Nina if you want.”

The little boy perked up at that. He sped over to the bed, climbing up on the platform before throwing himself on top of the groggy woman.

“Wake up, Nini!” He screamed jumping up and down on the other woman. “It’s time for bweakfast!”

Nina rolled over shooting a glare at Y/N who was very innocently putting together the meal for them all. “If you get up now, I’ll make you coffee.” Y/N threw the offer over her shoulder smiling as she saw Nina tackle the little boy attacking him with tickles as revenge for his waking her up.

“Come on, Nini.” Eun Jae whined tugging at his aunt as soon as she released him. “We gotta watch cawtoons!”

“I’m up. I’m up.” She groaned pulling herself out of bed to join Y/N in the kitchen only stopping to turn on some cartoons to keep Eun Jae busy while the two women talked.

“So how did it go last night?”

“It was…” She paused trying to think of the words. “It was, Agust d.”

Nina froze turning to look at her friend with wide eyes. “It was who now?”

“It was Agust d.”

“Shut up!” Nina’s eyes widened even further. “You’re joking! It wasn’t!” Nina was an avid fan of Agust d. He was her favorite musician. She lived and breathed Agust d. “Was it?”

“That’s his coat.” She nudged her head in the direction of the table where the coat from last night was draped over a chair.

Nina rushed over seizing the item inspecting it. “This is his coat!” She shrieked eyes wild. “I’ve seen him wearing this in pictures! Why do you have Agust d’s coat?”

“You didn’t let me bring mine, and he didn’t want me to catch cold, and for god’s sake use your inside voice. Do you want the neighbor’s to hear?” She scolded.

“But it’s August d! You have to tell me everything.” She rushed into the kitchen hanging off her friend’s arm as she whined. “Why do you have all the luck? I should have made a profile too. You’ll introduce me right?” She stared at her making her eyes wide and pleading, trying to mimic the look Eun Jae had whenever he wanted something. It didn’t work.

“You want me to introduce you to my sugar daddy?” Y/N asked confusion coloring her tone.

“It’s Agust d!” Nina looked at her as though she was stupid. Agust d was her world. How could she not want to meet him? “You have to introduce me!”

Y/N couldn’t help but stare at her incredulously. Was this the same girl who had been worried about her safety just a few days ago? Wasn’t this the same girl who had tried to make sure this was what she really wanted? Now everything was okay because her sugar daddy was someone famous. Well, she had to admire Nina’s loyalty, even if it was to the idol and not to her.

“Nina.” She sighed leaning against the counter tiredly. “I don’t think that’s up to me. I haven’t even signed the contracts yet.”

“Eomma!” Eun Jae’s voice called out before he came crashing into her legs looking up at her with big dark eyes. “Juice?”

“What do we say?”

“Juice pwease!”

“Okay, buddy.” She smiled gently ruffling his hair before she moved to fulfill his request.

She handed the cup over to the toddler and watched him as he went to go settle himself in front of his cartoons again happily sipping at his juice. She couldn’t help the fond, if not tired, look that took over her features as she watched him.

“When do you sign the contracts?” Nina asked impatiently, eager to know everything about her friend’s encounter with the famous rapper.

“He said that they should be ready by Monday.”

“This is so exciting!” Nina squealed practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re going to be on Agust d’s arm!” She paused a dawning realization making her mouth drop open in shock. “You’ll get to fuck Agust d!”

Immediately, Y/N slapped her friend’s arm glaring at her before throwing a worried glance over at the little boy. “Little ears.” She hissed grateful that Eun Jae wasn’t paying them any attention. “We do not swear in front of the baby.”

“Sorry, Y/N.” Nina at least had the decency to look sheepish. “But Monday is only the day after tomorrow. Aren’t you nervous?”

“Petrified.”

part 4

[thirstybtsthoughts]

Hi! Can you write about jungkook with his blue hair fucking y/n in every/almost place in their hotel room? The hotel room from vegas that costs $25k? Thank uuuuuu 😘

Hi! I’m so sorry this took forever to do! I don’t normally write fics but I wrote a drabble for this as it sounded fun! 

____________________________________________________

You were close to your fourth orgasm of the night. Standing completely naked, hands pressed against the glass wall with a view overlooking the glowing night lights of the city, you closed your eyes, mouth hung open in ecstasy as your boyfriend stood behind you with a tight grip on your hips, pumping his hard length in and out of your dripping wet pussy. The slaps of his skin against yours seemed to echo in the large room, every beat of your heart, every breath from his throat heard and felt between you both. As you came, your juices threatening to drip down your legs, Jungkook turned you around and kissed you deeply, pushing your back up against the cold glass as his tongue roamed your mouth.

“Where next babe?” He whispered, his gaze intense.

“I...can’t take any more Jungkook” you replied, out of breath.

“I know you’ve got one more in you, this is nowhere near that time we christened every room in our flat remember? How many times did you cum that day?” He said, kissing along your jaw.

You sighed “six”.

“Ah, my greatest achievement” Jungkook grinned. “So... where next?”

....

Earlier that day, when you and Jungkook had stepped into your $25k hotel room, your eyes raking the glorious design and luxurious features, he had insisted that he wanted to fuck you everywhere he possibly could within these four walls. You had scoffed, saying you didn’t think you’d be able to handle that, but ofcourse your competitive boyfriend took that as a challenge. “Don’t speak too soon baby, I’ll have you eating your words...and my dick” he smirked.

He had then proceeded to place you on the piano and eat you out, stopping for a few seconds only to play a tuneful melody. That was orgasm number one.

...

Orgasm number two happened after a short swim in the pool. He had lifted you onto the edge of the pool while he stayed in and had again placed his skillful tongue on your clit, this time adding his equally skilled fingers to the mix to fill you up.

...

Then he sat on the swinging couch, moving slowly back and forth while his cock was down your throat. That was his first orgasm. You had made sure to swallow every last drop of his cum to protect the expensive rug beneath you.

...

As you stopped for a drink, it didn’t take very long for him to get hard again, spurred on by your irresistible body and his need to keep this challenge going. Before you knew what was happening he had you sat on the counter in front of him, his mouth attacking your breasts as he fingered you. You were running your hands through the blue highlights in his hair as you leant back in pleasure. Realising you couldn’t wait much longer as you craved his cock inside you, you had jumped down from the counter and lifted a leg up for him to hold onto as he pushed himself into you. It was here that he decided to pick you up entirely, his hands on your thighs and cock still inside you, walking over to the chaise and settling himself onto it. He proceeded to lean back and watch you ride him, admiring the bounce of your breasts as he thrusted up into you occasionally ...leading to your third orgasm. 

...

By this point your legs were feeling weaker, your fatigue kicking in and your pussy starting to tinge with a slight soreness, but Jungkook wasn’t done yet. With the stamina he had, he was ready to go for another few rounds. So he had suggested the window... where he had convinced you that no one would be able to see your dirty deeds as you were too high up in the building. That orgasm was truly wonderful. Number four.

...

So here you were standing against the window in Jungkook’s bulky arms. He kissed you softly, pausing to look down at the view for a few seconds. You could feel his hard on pressing against your stomach so you wrapped your hand around his cock and started to pump him.

“No! Wait! Wait! Wait! I still have to get you to cum two more times, and I want to cum inside you - slow down baby!” He backed away as you let go of him grinning.

“Ughh okay how about the bed, then the shower?” You suggested, just wanting to lay down and let him do as he pleased.

“That’s too cliché!” He protested as he looked around the room. “Ooh I have an idea! I’ll lay across the pool table and you come sit on my face! We can’t not do it on the pool table!” His eyes lit up with excitement.

“It’s a good thing I love you” you rolled your eyes and squished his cheeks between your hands, pressing your lips onto his in a quick smooch. “Go on then!”

That’s how orgasm number five came about.

...

As you lay next to Jungkook on the pool table catching your breath trying to recover from the ferocity of his tongue, he jumped off, walked over to your side and picked you up carefully, holding you bridal style.

You gratefully snuggled into him, tracing along his abs with your finger as he carried you to the luxurious king sized bed and laid you onto the soft pillows.

“One more” He cupped your cheek and kissed your nose as you put your arms around him, spreading your legs for him to settle between. If you thought he was going to take it easy on you now, you were wrong. Yes he was intimate, he kept his face close to yours, kissing you everywhere from your lips to your neck, his hands stroking your hair carefully, but at the same time he was pounding into you with a force that had you aching, your whiny moans unable to stay in you. God, it felt good though. Jungkook knew how to take care of you so well. It was like this that you came for the sixth time. It was like this that he came inside you. And it was like this that the bedsheets were ruined by the mix of both your juices.

...

“I love you” Jungkook whispered, kissing your forehead as you lay together in a blissful state.

“I love you too, you goofball” you smiled, leaning into him, too exhausted to move.

“In the morning I’ll fuck you on that Persian rug” he smirked as you punched his arm.

[tiredcath]

Zukka Fic Recs

after atla came back into pop culture i found myself falling back in love with zukka which resulted in me reading (almost) every zukka fic on ao3 and here are my favorites

Transference by The_Quatermasters (146k)

In a modern AU, Zuko has to deal with settling in a new school after expulsion, dealing with an angry ex and an abusive father. Maybe his new found friendships and growing closeness with Sokka will help him make it through. 

Borderlines by The_Quatermasters (73k)

Three years after the war, the work still isn't quite done and the Gaang is scattered across the continents in their efforts to help the world recover. When Aang and Katara pay visit to the Fire Nation where Zuko is Fire Lord and Sokka acts as Ambassador for the Water Tribe, sparks fly between the siblings over Sokka's life choices.

Ashes Inside When You Finish Your Song by Muncaster (47k)

Sokka writes lyrics for his sister’s band. Zuko plays piano and is unnecessarily nice. Fellas, is it gay to write love songs about your friend and his golden eyes?

(AKA, a modern band AU featuring The Gaang, crappy software equipment, homoerotic lyrics, and the realization that maybe, if you think about a guy every night before you sleep, you just might be in love with him.)

sirens & sleepless nights by Satirrian (54k)

Life can be pretty hard living in a city under a totalitarian regime. Between adhering to the ridiculous curfew, keeping himself from being gunned down by a passing patrolman, and paying his unnecessary tolls to the state for, say, breathing, Sokka has his hands full just getting to work. Add aiding a resistance group on top of that, and Sokka should really be getting paid for this.

Then, one night, Sokka finds an injured patrolman collapsed in the street, who tells him with blood on his lips, “If the patrol finds me, I’m dead.”

 Real Slow by surveycorpsjean (21k)

“I see.” Zuko closes the scroll. “Is the Water Tribe sending a replacement?”

“Uh yeah,” Sokka gestures to himself dramatically. “You’re looking at him.”

 First by HoneyBadgerMole (20k)

Zuko has been nurturing a crush on the jock in his AP Psych class but he has been too scared to talk to him until they get paired up for a project.

the benefits of getting a flat tire by LesbeanLatte (64k)

Zuko makes an impromptu decision to run away from home after a disturbing conversation with Azula. Unfortunately, some plans are better when they're actually, well, planned. Zuko isn't counting on getting a flat tire almost as soon as he's far enough away from the city to really be in the middle of nowhere.

Sokka is immediately taken with the stranger he and his friends find stranded on the side of the road during an afternoon joy ride. However, he has no idea what he's getting involved with and a kind attempt to help a fellow teen in need turns into a massive coverup for a missing person who just so happens to be the son of the mayor of Ba Sing Se.

Azula was just trying to help her big brother - in her own way - by telling him things she thought he deserved to know. Now the situation has gotten wildly out of control. Did she enjoy seeing Zuko upset and afraid? Of course. Had she intended to endanger his life? Not necessarily, but of course, her idiot brother overreacted to everything and that's what happened and now she doesn't know how to stop the chain of events she's indirectly put in place like dominoes.

Operation Leverage by snowandfire (50k)

Sokka's instincts are onto something great. Zuko just wants to serve tea and brood in peace. Ironically, Toph is the only one who can see what's really going on.

 The Stingray by Smediterranea (24k)

“You’re not carrying me.”

“I don’t mind,” the lifeguard says easily.

“I can just hop over.”

“On sand?”

Zuko will never admit it, but being carried feels pretty nice. The lifeguard sets him down and eyes him warily.

“Are you really all by yourself?” he asks in a worried tone. “No friends in town you can call to check on you?”

“No,” Zuko confirms. Tears are forming again with alarming speed; his foot throbs painfully with every passing second.

“What kind of burrito do you want?”

“You don’t have to —“ Zuko repeats.

“I’m getting al pastor. You like al pastor?”

 AU: Zuko falls for Sokka, the super hot lifeguard who helps him after an unfortunate encounter with a stingray.

 it's the illusion of separation by argentoswan (110k)

Sokka takes a job washing dishes at the new tea shop in town. It's a great gig, until he finds out his only coworker is his old high school bully. Sokka really should quit, but he also really needs to afford rent.

Also, Zuko is kind of hot now.

 People like to think war means something by trying_to_spell_both_our_names_at_once (21k)

Sokka was the first to leave.

Somehow that hurt the most. . . . Not long after Zuko becomes Firelord, forces gather in the South and next thing he knows he's thrown into a civil war with almost no one by his side. Maybe healing is longer and more complicated than it needs to be, but with the right people by your side it is always possible.

 a way that will destroy you by anothermistakemade (14k)

In the wake of Ozai's death, Zuko begins to fall apart. Sokka will do everything in his power to make sure that doesn't happen.

-

or, zuko might be losing his mind, but he also might just be really sad & traumatized

 Those Who Favor Fire by CSHfic, VSfic (30k)

After a failed attempt on his life, Sokka fakes his death, dons a disguise, and infiltrates the would-be assassin's ranks in an attempt to bring them down from the inside.

Zuko learns of his husband's tragic death, mourns, and vows revenge.

 Words Mean More at Night by DaisytheDoodleDog (28k)

Even ten years after the end of the war, rebellions rise and risk the balance of the nations. Sokka was willing to do anything to protect his people, which is perhaps why he's leading an army against the rebellion, attacking only as a last result. But Sokka's unwinding, it's taking a toll on him, and the only thing keeping him grounded are the letter Zuko and him exchange late in the night when no one can see the messenger hawks. But as they say, nothing's fair in love and war.

another word for wanting by eurydicees (23k)

Sokka begins to dream of his soulmate when he's eleven years old, and it just gets harder from there. Or, 125 moments soulmates share, and none of them come easy.

(In which your dreams are your soulmate's memories, and Sokka dreams of an all-consuming fire, growing and eating at his soulmate until it burns up the connection between their souls. In which they find love anyways.)

 It Has Only Just Begun by Kirazalea (39k)

There is a bitter triumph in crashing when you should be soaring

Zuko had now chosen the path his uncle had been trying so hard to show him; he had someone who believed in him, who maybe loved him; he was travelling with the Avatar and they apparently had a plan to end the war. By all accounts, Zuko should be smiling.

But Uncle was gone (captured by Azula, and Zuko didn't think she would kill him, but he didn’t, couldn’t, know for sure). The Avatar was barely breathing (he could still die at any second and there was nothing any of them could do about it). Azula had conquered the last Earth Kingdom stronghold (all those innocent people who were now at her mercy). It seemed like, for every step Zuko took forward, the world sent him back three more.

But he was determined to push forward anyways. He needed to make his uncle proud, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

aka: zuko joins the gaang at the end of season 2

 Nightmares and Reveries by HisMomoness (20k)

Zuko doesn't sleep because when he does, he's haunted by nightmares. Sokka worms his way into a job and makes it his mission to get Zuko to relax. Lots of head pets and one vacation to the South Pole later, Zuko might just be getting the hang of it.

Cue pining, some fluff, and eventual romance.

 The One Who Stopped Time by ohhihoney (66k)

All hope was lost to Zuko until one day, his uncle asked a random person at the Jasmine Dragon to tutor his nephew. Gritting his teeth and embarrassed beyond the point of no return, Zuko gave the blue eyed boy his number.

Little did Zuko know how much Sokka would change his world.

 Rubbed Off Stars by ohhihoney (2k)

Sokka wasn't going to just sit and watch the boy at the back of the bus cry while trying to rub off pride flags off his cheeks.

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

WIP

Ozymandias, King of Kings by Think_of_a_Wonderful_Thought (168k)

After that fateful Agni Kai, Ozai makes a different call. Branded as a traitor and banished to a prison camp, Zuko learns how cruel the Fire Nation can be to its citizens. Three years, a water tribe raid, and an unexpected meeting with a gang of over-enthusiastic idealistic children puts Zuko back in the spotlight. The revolution is coming and it wants another poster boy, but Zuko is not willing to lend his face to the cause.

 Another Brother by AvocadoLove (312k)

It was a mission of revenge. There weren't supposed to be any survivors, but Chief Hakoda couldn't bring himself to kill the Fire Nation boy. Against his better judgment, he brought him home. A Zuko joins the Water Tribe story.

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

BONUS : zuko x jet

Something to Hold Onto by Wildgoosery (122k)

Since the day the walls of Ba Sing Se fell, the Freedom Fighters have struggled to protect what remains of the city and its people. Jet and his second command, a mysterious boy named Li, have spent the summer piecing together an army, hoping for a chance to take the city back for good. But Li is also Zuko, and the time for that secret is quickly running out. Soon, he'll have to decide exactly who he is, what cause he's going to fight for, and where his heart lies.

[introductions-are-a-spook]

Feedback appreciated!

Maxwell was busy at work in his study. He refused to be confused any longer. Andrew was a suspect, and there was good reason for it. It was high time Maxwell put aside his feelings and started acting like the detective he was.

Throughout the week following their date, Andrew had been seen in several suspicious locations. Apparently he had been walking around near Jennifer McAllen’s manor- the case’s prime suspect- while, oddly enough, being adamantly followed by a black cat.

Later that night Miss McAllen had reported an intruder that fled upon seeing her. Another man, Nikos Antigone, had said he was outright robbed, with force. Odd, ‘Blinker’ didn’t seem the violent type. Neither person had been left the classic note.

Most curiously, Maxwell had received an anonymous yet well written letter, telling him to run away from Andrew and never look back. It had been delivered to his personal mailbox. It isn’t necessarily related to the case, Maxwell thought. Could be a jealous ex-girlfriend.

Wait, jealous of who, him? He was doing it again! Still trying to make him and Andrew out to be something in his mind. Dammit.

There was a sudden knock at the door, startling Maxwell and causing him to drop his pen. His older brother- George's- voice came through the door, asking to come in.

“Oh, now you want permission?” Maxwell snarked at him.

The door opened. “Well, after last week's squirrel incident, I thought you might appreciate the extra privacy.”

“You admitted to having at least one camera in my room that morning. What do you mean, ‘privacy?’”

A second, lighter voice sounded from the doorway, interrupting them both. The second youngest, Casey. “Hey Maxwell! So, Darwin told us you had a second date today? That’s so exciting! Who are they, what do you have planned?”

Maxwell rubbed his eyes, minding the glasses, and huffed. “How did he find out?” he asked in exasperation. “No, it’s none of your business. Now if you all don’t mind-“

“Actually, what time is it? Aren’t you going to be late?”

Maxwell rolled his eyes at Casey and checked his watch. It was almost time, he decided. “Oh, fine, you all win this round,” he said, as he grabbed his coat, wallet, and keys while walking out the door.

~*~

Maxwell drove over to the bakery to find Andrew nowhere in sight. He strode in, where Isabella cleaned up after the last customer and closed up shop.

“Hello Isabella. Is Andrew here?”

“Hello again, Mr. Chapman. Why do you ask?” she gave him a look that could easily have been taken as a smirk.

He snickered. “You of all people should know why.”

She returned a chuckle. “He’s up in his apartment. I think he got a little frantic over his most recent piece.”

“I see,” Maxwell sniffed in amusement, going through the gate that led to the stairs. On the way, he heard the faint plucking of strings, playing the same motif again and again, a little different each time.

There the man sat, holding his violin like a guitar, pizzing away with an austere look on his face. Maxwell covered his smile with a hand and watched, unnoticed, a little longer. The tune was pretty, but it was missing something. And yet, Maxwell may have had just the thing to help.

He cleared his throat, and Andrew jumped up, stammering.

“Oh my god, Maxwell! I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about-”

“Oh shush,” Maxwell spoke, walking over to the upright piano in the corner and running a finger over the keys. “Do you mind if I try something?”

Maxwell noticed that Andrew had not yet looked him in the eye, instead choosing to avert his head. Nevertheless, he nodded, and Maxwell played the theme Andrew had been plucking. A few progression notes and a key change, and the piece was moving forward. He paused. “What do you think?”

“Huh, that was really good! And then maybe this?’ He played the theme, the transition, and the key change, followed by a bridge and then the theme again.

“That does sound nice. Though maybe put the key change toward the end, instead. Like…” He played the whole idea, frowning when he realized it was only half a minute long. “Add a few more phrases, perhaps?”

“Enough to write an entire piece? Well that could take-”

“Not terribly long, if we work together. Besides, this is far more enjoyable than whatever stuffy concert we had planned.” And so the work began. Andrew continued to turn away, and eye contact was still scarce. He had some kind of bandage over the bridge of his nose, but Maxwell couldn’t quite see why. And it was possible that Andrew was catching on to the staring.

So halfway through composing the ninth line, Maxwell leant forward, coarsely taking the man’s chin in his hand. Andrew put his hands up in protest as Maxwell turned his face.

“Good riddance, Andrew, you’ve been avoiding my- oh,” Maxwell stopped short. His tone went from exasperated to concerned in a moment. “Andrew, your nose, it’s broken! Why would you hide this?”

Andrew bashfully pulled away. “It doesn’t matter. I had Isabella look at it, anyway.”

Maxwell huffed. “I'd imagine you’re always terrible at lying under pressure, then. Why did this happen? Who did it?”

“It’s none of your business, quit worrying about it.”

“Andrew, this isn’t like you-“

“What would you know? We barely know each other.”

“Stop it.” Andrew shut up. “Now tell me what happened.”

Andrew took a deep breath and smirked. “Y’know I don’t wanna tell you. Why don’t you use your detective skills and figure it out?”

Maxwell sighed and returned the grin. “Perhaps I will.”

And so the music continued. Maxwell continued to interrogate Andrew about his injury, and had managed to weasel out of him that it had happened four days back. He also mentioned that he was alone when it happened, and Maxwell had a suspicion that there were two perpetrators.

The progress on the music continued, and the two gradually resumed a companionable silence. By nine at night, Andrew had played what he could on the violin, and both took turns on the piano. Still, it wasn’t right. The tune was both bright and whimsical, of which they could only play the first half.

“Perhaps I should mention- We both learned piano for the sake of it, but my true skill lies with the harp. We could arrange it as a duet, but we’d have to do it in my home. It’s simply too much effort to bring it here.”

Andrew laughed. “Show me.”