#tws bluetooth Speaker

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

//Mun is having a more in-depth session at therapy today so might be kinda wonky/recluse for a bit

[thekitchenandhome]

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[netfolix]

HEYSONG Brand Introduction

heysongaudio.com

Heysong is a team of music enthusiasts with a combined experience of more than 40 years in design, innovation, and development in industry-leading companies, which specialized in outdoor waterproof Bluetooth speakers, ANC.ENC headphones, TWS earbuds.

[box-shopping]

[writerblue275]

How Heartsteel would react catching their S/O singing/dancing to “Paranoia” (to their part if applicable)

Inspiration: Me being a dancing/singing/lip syncing fool every time I listen to the damn song, especially while I’m cleaning my apartment.

Genre: Headcanon

Category: FLUFF

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader

TW: Swearing

^^(How did they get this GIF of me dancing?? 😂)

General things:

Setting the scene, let’s say it’s the first time they’re coming home after the song has released so they’re really getting your reaction to the finished song for the first time.

Ok let’s be clear, all of them would be so flattered and would love this.

Having a supportive partner means EVERYTHING TO THEM.

So even if I don’t put “it means a lot to them to catch you doing this, etc…etc…, it’s still implied.

Aphelios:

He’s had a long day in the studio working with Yone on the next album’s instrumentals after doing a debut music show, so he’s very ready to be home with you and to take it easy tonight.

Grins under his mask as he opens the door and hears “Paranoia” blasting on the Bluetooth speaker he got you for your birthday. He knows how much you love to jam to music!

Sneaks to wherever you are, not wanting to disrupt you and absolutely wanting to grab a photo he can send to Alune (after swearing her to secrecy [not that she would send the photo of you to anyone anyway! You and her are good friends too]).

Manages to get an excellent photo of you using the duster as a microphone, a smidge of dust on your cheek.

You’re so absorbed in your “performance” you don’t notice him at all.

Right after you mime the *ding ding ding* of the bell in Sett’s verse, your smart watch buzzes with a text message.

“I hate to disrupt your award-worthy performance, but what would you like for dinner? (Also you have a little dust on your cheek, cutie.)”

When you spin around and finally see him, he’s spinning his mask on his finger and giving you a sly grin, winking as you gasp in surprise and blush at being caught.

He grabs a tissue and gently wipes off your cheek before giving you a gentle kiss hello.

(I have a headcanon that he would primarily communicate to his partner using sign language)

*Signing* “I’m glad you enjoy our work, love!”

Seeing you love something he put so much effort and time into really brings him a LOT of pride and will continue to motivate him.

He helps you clean and asks you more about your thoughts on the song.

You were in the studio while he worked so you’ve heard parts of it, but you and him agreed that you shouldn’t hear the finished song until it released to the public. It was your suggestion actually. He was ready to let you listen to it early but you wanted to experience the full excitement of waiting for their debut just like everyone else.

Which he LOVED.

Ezreal:

This litTLE SHIT (said lovingly)!

Smug man #1

He will NEVER LET YOU FORGET THIS.

The SMIRK he has when he walks through the front door and hears the all-too-familiar intro to the song.

And when he hears you RAPPING along with Kayn’s part??

NO WAY is he missing this!!

He immediately makes his way to wherever you are and positions himself so he can see you without you seeing him.

Phone camera is at the ready.

Starts recording a video right before the pre-chorus begins and his part starts.

He can’t help but smile as you switch to lip syncing, clearly wanting to hear/focus on his voice.

You’ve told him many times how much you adore his singing voice.

(And he’ll never admit to anyone how much hearing you say that means to him but that’s a different story)

It takes every fiber of his being to not reveal himself while he’s recording.

He’s about two seconds from giggling.

Records through the end of the chorus before stopping the recording and immediately sending the video to the Heartsteel group chat with all the members and Alune. They all love you so he knows they’ll love seeing the video.

He puts his phone away and plans to sneak up on you. (Lmao sneak up? I mean flash.)

This man is an EXPERT at surprising you.

Flashes right behind you before the second pre-chorus starts and starts singing, bursting into laughter as you let out a surprised scream.

He gets a well deserved pillow to the face for that.

Later Yone texts you and tells you that he’s “glad you like the song enough to sing and dance to it throughout your daily tasks.”

And Aphelios hits you with the “:)”

And Ez gets another pillow to the face before bed.

Followed by a kiss because he is POUTING.

Kayn:

This SMUG motherfucker!! (Again, said lovingly!!!)

Smug man #2!!

Comes home to you cooking dinner for you and him, using the spatula as a mic.

Does THE shoulder lean against the door frame (y’all know what I mean, especially if you read romance novels) and just watches you with the biggest shit-eating smirk on his face.

That smirk only get bigger as the song ends and restarts and you don’t change it, telling him you’ve had their song on repeat for who knows how long!

If anything, you’re getting even more into it, starting to dance a little more now and adding some little ad libs while he raps.

Ex: “If you try to step to me, it’ll be the last time” You *in rhythm*: “FUCK YEAH”

He absolutely loves it.

Honestly you’re making him fall in love with you all over again.

Also gives him the idea to ask Alune if you can help make up the fan chants (although he’s sad because he knows they’ll have to be a bit more PG)

Can’t help himself as he lets out a chuckle, giving himself away in the process.

Holds his hands up peacefully as you spin around, ready to throw the spatula if needed.

“Sorry baby, I’m afraid you can’t use me for target practice.”

“God Damnit, Kayn, you know I scare easily! How long have you been home?”

“There’s a reason I stayed over here instead of startling you over there where there are a bunch more kitchen utensils you could have reacted with. And to answer your question, enough time for me to understand how much you seem to enjoy our song.”

You playfully, roll your eyes, shake your head, and smile as he comes over and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing you hello.

He’d definitely tell the guys what he saw, but he wouldn’t film or photograph you (this time 😉).

K’Sante:

I get such immaculate vibes from Heartsteel K’Sante.

Like I’m a BTS fan (woot woot ARMY) and I get very very similar energy/vibes from K’Sante and RM.

Like I do not know what it is, but I would trust K’Sante with holding/watching my drink at a club if I needed to run to the restroom. He has that sort of good energy.

I suppose it’s the…safe? energy??

Absolutely hilarious to use that word considering the batshit things they did in that movie studio.😂

But you know what I mean!

And being in a relationship with someone who has this sort of energy would be A++++.

(I know this is a bit of a tangent but I swear it’s relevant to the topic)

K’Sante’s part in “Paranoia” has that same sort of energy to it. (It’s so hard to explain what I meannnn)

And when he catches you singing and dancing along to his part, the bridge of the song, while you’re folding/putting away laundry, I think he’d watch you for a couple moments.

But only a couple.

He’d make his presence known a bit earlier

Because then I think he’d come join you! ☺️

He’d start singing with you and encourage you to keep singing with him.

He’d gently pull you a little closer to him.

And obviously the slower paced part of bridge doesn’t last forever, but even then I think he’d still dance with you once the song ramped up with you (hard to explain but think casual dancing with a partner at a club/bar).

It would be so FUN??? Such a fun sweet moment between the two of you.

He’d of course then help you fold the laundry.

“It’s only fair since I distracted you from it for a bit!”

You’d keep listening to music with him as you both get some chores done around the house.

Definitely making sure to take time for more dance breaks (duhhhh).

Sett:

(A/N: I love the entirety of “Paranoia” but something about Sett’s verse makes me absolutely FERAL!! THE LYRICS. THE VIBE. THE INSTRUMENTALS. PerFECTION! ØZI fucking nailed it.)

When I first started thinking about this, I thought that Sett would be smug guy #3.

Now I’m not quite so stuck to that idea.

Oh don’t get me wrong, he’d definitely hug you and tease you once you saw him watching you and blushed a deep red.

But they would mainly be half-hearted teases.

And internally? You know this man is melting about you and how lucky he is to have you as his partner and how much he loves you.

Sett clearly has such a soft side for the people he truly loves and cares about.

Have you seen how much he adores his Mama???

You are like the only other person who can really bring that soft side out of him.

And catching you already having the lyrics to his verse down 100% is something that would bring that out of him.

Speaking of his Mama…

Sett would absolutely take photos or videos of you.

But they’re only going to one person.

That’s right, to Mama.

We’re going to assume that his mother really likes you and you really like her. (You think this man is going to be with someone his mother doesn’t get along with? BFFR)

Though let me say I think she’d be very easy to get along with.

Like I definitely don’t think she’s the mother-in-law from hell I keep seeing stories about on TikTok.

But anyway, he just wants to show off his favorite person to his other favorite person (who also adores his favorite person).

And little do you and Sett know but that just inspired Mama to knit you a sweater that matches the beanie she made that he wore in the MV. As like a holiday present!

(I’m so sorry this one was admittedly a little self-indulgent but I think it’s so cute!)

Yone:

Oh this man.

Obviously everyone has worked extremely hard so that Heartsteel can debut. Everyone has had late nights and long days on little sleep.

But as Heartsteel’s main producer…

(Not to mention band mom!!)

Yone really had a record number of late nights at the studio.

Reworking a passage over and over and over….

And OVER

Until it’s right (or until Aphelios/Alune drag him out of the studio at 3am telling him to work on it tomorrow with fresh ears).

And he’d never tell you, but you know he’s felt really bad about all those late nights. All those nights he wasn’t with you.

Potential dates missed because of deadlines.

Not that you were angry with him or anything.

You love him and you know how much pressure he’s put on himself.

And the last thing you want to do is potentially add more pressure on him.

In fact, you and him made a routine the past couple months. Whenever he’d have to work on the weekends, you’d come over to his studio each night during the weekend and bring a movie/couple episodes of a show and takeout.

And he gladly lets you pull his attention away from work for other media and cuddles.

(I feel like in private Yone would be more cuddly than one might expect of a stoic man like him.)

But during these media breaks??

This tall man was like a damn koala the way he cuddled you (not that you were complaining).

So seeing you sing and dance to the song he produced…

Even though the production of this song meant you often went to bed alone….

Was so fucking cathartic for him.

It made him feel like every sacrifice was worth it. Just to see how happy you were to dance and sing to the song he put so much of himself into.

His expression would be so soft as he watched you.

And after you noticed him and gave him a smile, he’d come over and give you a hug, burying his face against your neck.

You are his MUSE, and don’t you forget it.

Ahh thank you for reading! This is my first bit of creative writing in over 5 years, so apologies if it’s not great!

Shout out to @coco6420 for telling me on my main account to not stop myself when I talked about being tempted to post headcanons for Arcane/Heartsteel. Well here we go. 😂

[rninies]

LATE NIGHT DANCING SESSION ft suna rintarou — suna inviting you to dance instead of sleeping late at night

wc: 0.7k ノcw + tw: fem!reader, pet names (baby), suna is a good dancer and you're not lmao, fluff just pure fluff

suna rintarou is an insufferable man.

sure he has been your boyfriend for a year already, but you are still not used to his stupid antics, always dragging you to stupid and silly scenarios.

tonight is one of those nights, unfortunately. instead of sleeping early for classes tomorrow, suna turned on his bluetooth speaker, blasting loud music.

“rin-” you covered your ears, not wanting your ears to bleed. “could you lower the volume?!” instead of replying, suna only shrugged, vibing to the music. “rin!”

“WHAT?” suna replies loudly. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

you rolled your eyes and walked over to the speaker, immediately pausing the song. “are you crazy? you’re going to wake the neighbors!”

“baby please,” suna huffs. “they’re never going to complain. besides, i’m pretty sure they’re night owls too.”

“and how would you know that?” you asked. “you’ve never even talked to them!”

suna stops in his place. “h-how would you know if i have or never have talked to our neighbours? i’m not as shy as you!”

you scoff. “yeah right. you’re not shy but you certainly dislike talking to people you’ve never met! come on rin, i’ve been with you for more than a year already. don’t act like i don’t know you.”

“seriously you never let me have my fun anymore,” suna pouts fiddling with the speaker. as he is about to turn it off, he pauses, and you can practically see a lightbulb turn on beside his head. “hey, y/n?”

“what…?” you ask, though you have a feeling it’s not going to be good.

“can we dance together?” suna asks, and you immediately shake your head. “what? why?” he practically whines when you start stepping away from him.

“you know how bad of a dancer i am!” you exclaim. “i’m not the best at this.”

“you've stepped on my foot at least ten times, trust me, i know.” suna replies. “come on, dance with me once and we can go to sleep. the earlier we do this the more sleep we can get for tomorrow’s class. we have your least favorite class tomorrow, right?”

you gasp. “oh my god you’re right.” you bit your lip, contemplating whether you should take his offer or not. seeing suna cock his head to the side a little with his hand stretched out in front of him makes you sigh in defeat. “okay fine. but you better lend me your notes tomorrow! i am not going to be taking notes.”

“you have a deal.” suna grabs your hand pulling you closer to him. “what song would you like to dance to?”

“anything that isn’t too long,” you say. suna smiles, and once again, instead of complying with your wishes, he chooses a song that lasts about 5 whole minutes. “suna-!”

“you won’t even notice how long it is, trust me.” suna cuts you off before you can say anything. “just trust me.” he presses play and a slow song starts. suna guides you slowly, making sure you can remember all the steps. “why are you so stiff? loosen up a little.”

“i’m trying,” you huff. “it’s just- it’s weird…”

“what’s weird, hm?” suna asks so softly. “don’t tell me it’s weird dancing with me?”

“no!” you protested, trying to relax your body. “it’s just weird how you’re so good at dancing. i didn't know you knew how to dance.” 

“and you say you know me well. there's a lot you don't know about me, then.” suna teases you, to which you pout.

catching you off guard, suna suddenly dips your waist, and you immediately wrap your arms around his shoulder. “oh my god- suna rintarou! what the hell was that?!”

“what? it’s the most classic dance move to ever exist!” suna smiles, keeping your body steady with his arms. “don’t tell me you’ve never dreamed of doing this dance with your sweet and handsome boyfriend before?”

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “as if. i can’t dance, why would i even dream of doing that?”

“aw, you’re breaking my heart, love.” suna pouts slightly, and the song ends just as he says that.

“wha-” your eyes drift over to the speaker as suna lifts you back up. “the song’s over already?”

suna hums. “mhm. you want more?” he gives you a teasing smirk, and you immediately shake your head.

“nope! it’s time for bed, come on we have a long day tomorrow with that boring lecture.” you quickly push suna’s back to your shared bedroom.

suna could only laugh, letting himself get pushed around by you. 

[harrywavycurly]

I miss killer!eddie 😔

Hiii babes!! Awe I miss him too, I have a little tiny thing for you and I hope you enjoy it!💖

*I know this isn’t for everyone so if it’s not your thing then just scroll on by babes*

TW: mentions of a deceased body

-find all things serial killer Eddie here✨

“Hey baby,” Eddie holds the phone to his ear with his shoulder so it doesn’t fall to the floor. “How’s the girl’s night going?” He raises an eyebrow as he hears you let out a sad sigh.

“We just got out of a movie.” Your voice is rough letting Eddie know you’ve been crying, he instinctively feels his grip tighten on the roll of tape he has in his hands. “I didn’t like it.” You sniffle making Eddie’s heart drop as he quickly places the tape into his duffle bag before zipping it up.

“I’m sorry Princess what was it about?” He asks as he looks around the kitchen that doesn’t belong to him to make sure he didn’t forget anything. He grabs the phone with his right hand and puts you on speaker but is quick to mute you so he can finish dealing with the man that’s currently zip tied to one of his own dining room chairs.

“It was scary.” Eddie runs a hand over his face and lets out a sigh because he knows how you handle scary movies and it’s not well. “They want to go to dinner.” Eddie unmutes you and it’s as if he can just picture you now, standing outside the movie theater with a pout on your face as your friends try to make plans for the rest of the night.

“But?” He asks as he walks over to the man and bends down so he can gently remove the tape from his mouth knowing he isn’t going to be making any sounds that’ll have you wondering what he’s doing, due to the fact that Eddie made it to where the man tied to the chair won’t be making any kind of noise ever again.

“I miss you.” Eddie smiles as he stands up and walks back into the man’s kitchen to grab his duffle bag.

“I miss you too baby.” He responds in his sweet soothing tone that he knows makes you feel better in situations like this. “How about I come get you and we can go to Target and check out their Valentine’s Day stuff? I know you want some new pillows for the living room.” He can practically hear you smiling over the phone and it makes him smile to himself as he does one final sweep of the kitchen and living room making sure there’s nothing that can pinpoint him to the untimely demise of the man tied to the chair.

“You’d do that?” Eddie playfully rolls his eyes at your question while he mutes you as he shuts the garage door before climbing into his truck where he unmutes you so he can answer your silly question.

“Of course sweetheart.” He answers as his phone connects to his car’s Bluetooth letting him place his phone on the center console so he can take the booties off that he had covering his boots so he wouldn’t leave boot marks anywhere. “I can be there in five minutes.” You let out a noise of excitement making Eddie laugh because you’re just too cute sometimes.

“Okay I’ll be outside waiting for you.” Eddie nods and looks down at his dashboard and sees it’s a bit cold outside. “And yes I have my new jacket on so you can’t miss me.” He smiles because it’s as if you could read his mind and knew he was going to ask if you had your new puffy pink jacket on.

“Okay baby I’ll see you soon.” Eddie states as he places his duffle bag under his seat before backing out of the driveway. “I love you.” You say it back before hanging up. “Oh shit.” Eddie mumbles as he puts the truck in park and quickly gets out and grabs the little tool kit from his back pocket while heading to the back of the vehicle. He looks around before he quickly unscrews the licenses plate on his truck so his real one can now be visible, not worried about someone seeing it now that it’s getting dark outside. “Now time to go get the princess.” He mumbles as he gets back into the driver’s seat so he can head to the movie theater to pick you up.

[tainted-liquor]

'Make it Awkward...⋆｡°✩

E1610!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, n a lil bit of smiles! TWs: Awkward teen love like rlly rlly awkward W/C: 1.8k A/N: SZA Inspired fic ❤︎!! another cute lil req from my 100 special!

You and Miles had developed a sturdy friendship in middle school, with you always being hyped up as the "art kid" in each of your classes. Initially, he was a little bit bitter because he didn't really understand what the hype was all about. He could draw, and he could do it just as good as you. Which, granted was indeed true, but your work felt like something out of a Van Gogh discography. Each and every one of your paintings and drawings almost looked like there was a filter over them, like something out of a flurry dream that evoked nostalgia and warmth in whoever seemed to view them. To say he was inspired by you was an understatement, he wanted to drown himself in everything that was your talent.

But as time passed and spiders bit, you two grew apart from each other on account of him semi-blowing you off for Gwen. You stopped hanging out slowly, he began to drop art and pick up a sudden interest in physics and inter-dimensional travel, and even got...meaner? The kind and innocent kid that once was Miles suddenly became jumpy and antsy. You thought that you two had something worth way more than any other friendship you had, but one day shit just shifted into complete, and total, awkward silence. But as time heals all wounds, you slowly began talking again at the top of this month, right before your summer came to its close.

Miles quietly hummed along to the steady bump of the music in his headphones, nodding to the rhythm as he began illustrating a head in his sketchbook. As 'Les' By Childish Gambino slowly fizzed out and the electronic chords of 'Awkward' By SZA became known, his sketch started to warp a little. He didn't necessarily remember how or when, but he noticed his sketch become a lot less androgynous and more familiar, with twinkling brown eyes and thick curly hair becoming more detailed with each pencil stroke. It took him a while to realize, but eventually, he had drawn...you. Down to the finest details as well, your smile lines and your perfectly sculpted Nubian nose.

What he hadn't anticipated was filling up the next 2 pages of his sketchbook with both your face and the signature crochet fingerless gloves you wore during the winter. What initially was just a warmup while waiting for you to arrive at his house turned into a full-blown drawing session with you as the muse. You weren't even there and he still had drawn you 100% accurately from memory. He sighed as his playlist continued to play out a steady stream of nothing but SZA, leaning back in his chair as he stared up at the ceiling before he heard a knock on his room door. "Ah-Come in!" he yelped as he quickly put away his sketchbook, swapping out the pencils and paint markers for paintbrushes and canvases.

You gently pushed open the door, showing Miles your painted tote bag full of art supplies, such as watercolors, charcoal, oil paints, three palettes, and various paintbrushes. "Hey, Miles! Sorry, it took me a lil bit...that fuckin' line in the art store was INSANE" you chirped as you slowly entered Miles's room and set down your bag. You placed your shoes in the corner of his room before walking over to sit on his bed. He pulled off his headphones, gently placing them on their stand before spinning around in his indigo desk chair. "That's fine! Don't even worry about it I know how full them stores get" he shrugs as he grabs his Bluetooth speaker from off his shelf, motioning for you to follow him as he stacks the canvases and art supplies in his hands.

"C'mon, there's not enough space in my room for two people to paint," he explains as he climbs the stairs up to his apartment roof. You followed closely behind him, setting up the art supplies as he fidgeted with his speaker. You lean back against the wall as you sit on the concrete roof, taking in the pretty sky as you sketch out some buildings and a landscape on your canvas. "So how's summer for you, huh? What's her name...Gwen was it? How'd things go over with her?" You ask as you begin to add minor details to your sketch. Truth be told it ate you up every single time he would mention her in your past conversations, with you having a small...thing for him that grew over time.

"Oh! Uh, Gwen...yeah. Things went south, we don't really talk anymore..." He shrugs as he rips the plastic off of a rather large canvas. You nodded slowly, indicating that you were hanging on to his every word as you cracked open a fresh bottle of paint thinner, pouring it into a small glass cup before coating your brush in the clear mineral spirit. You slather a couple of shades of deep blue, rusty orange, bright magenta, and off-white on your paint palette as you work to form that beautiful 'sunset gradient' on your canvas. He connects his phone to the small black speaker, his playlist resuming quietly in the background. "But how's your summer been?" he asks as he mirrors the process of sitting beside you and leaning against the wall.

"My summer's been fine actually. Nothing too eventful, no trips or nothing, just taking a couple...ahem...adventures!" You explain as you recall how you nearly got in trouble with the police for trespassing in various abandoned locations for funsies. Miles gives you a playful side-eye, looking you up and down. "You sound a lil sketchy...what did YOU do this summer?" he chuckled as he began sketching out some scenery and what looked like the early stages of a body on his canvas. "Shhhh, your dad's a cop" you giggled as you picked up a smaller brush, filling in the buildings and scenery in your painting. You both chuckled at the slight confession, looking ahead of you so you could get an accurate view of what you were currently painting.

You took a small glance at what Miles was currently sketching, getting a good look at the faceless humanoid figure sitting cross-legged, with an unidentified object that vaguely resembled a pencil in her hand as she drew on her...face? Eyeliner maybe? You hummed along to 'Supermodel' By SZA. You held up your canvas closer to Miles's canvas, analyzing the difference in art styles. Yours was much more realistic, and heavily influenced by the world around you with your unique play on your color palette. whereas Miles was more stylized and thought out, the colors remaining true to their actual hue.

"What do you think this needs more of?" you ask as you tilt your canvas towards Miles. He thought for a moment, tilting his head slightly so he could thoroughly analyze the painting. "More shine to the light sources maybe? Like a soft glow!" he beamed as he pointed towards the canvas with the opposite end of his paintbrush. You nod with your signature full smile, smile leans indicating your raw and unfiltered joy. Miles's eyes lingered on you for a couple of seconds before he madly swiped away at his canvas, seemingly blocking out more details with darker shades of watercolor.

You spent the next four hours, yes, four hours giggling like children as Miles sang along terribly to some of the songs on his playlist, starting a mini karaoke session on his roof with the both of you. It began to get cold and dark, so you decided you would pick up the canvases again after going inside to get something to eat. He grabbed his speaker and supplies, leaving his large canvas on the roof of his building before disappearing through the door to his apartment complex. You stuffed most of what you wanted to bring back down into your bag, before deciding to look over at Miles's painting. It looked exactly like you, but you were younger.

You remembered that damn scrunchie you had locked on your wrist, your favorite dark red satin scrunchie that went perfectly with your uniform. You shifted slightly to get a better angle of the canvas, watching as 8th grade you sprung to life in the form of doing your eyeliner on the bathroom sink. Miles had been there with you, watching as you painfully kneeled on the edge of the sink and leaned hazardously close to the mirror. You smiled softly to yourself as you noticed each beauty mark you had perfectly positioned on your face, from each scar to every minor indent in your smile. You chuckled quietly before swinging open the door and bolting down the stairs, straight to Miles's room.

And there he was, viciously fucking up a cup of noodles like someone would take it from him at any moment. "Damn, is it good? it ain't goin' nowhere now..." you joked with wide eyes as he gestured to an identical cup cooling off by his mini desk fan. You ate alongside him in silence, not really knowing what to say to each other. "I see you're still painting like in middle school...?" he states, referring to your distinct blurred style of painting. "Huh...Oh! Yeah, haha. I miss middle school kinda." You shrug as you sit the cup down on the side of his desk.

"Really? I always thought you thought I was a lil annoying back in middle school. I think you were my quietest friend ever" he joked as he finished his cup, dunking it in his trash can. "Huh? I literally thought you were the cutest thing ever! If I thought you were annoying I would've told you!" you stated with a small chuckle. Miles seemed to think for a moment, pausing as he processed the first half of your sentence. "Wait, you thought I was cute this whole time?" He asked with wide eyes. "Yeah! I was quiet cuz I didn't wanna fuck anything up! I think I had the fattest crush on you!" you laughed as you realized he thought that YOU thought he was annoying this whole time.

He gawked for a minute, his jaw slacked and eyes even wider than before. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" he semi-shouted as he began pacing around his room. You could only laugh, saying "We were like 10 and I didn't know if you would've liked me back." He looked at you as if you had 2 heads, going on some long rant about how he always thought you just weren't interested or thought he was annoying. You silently got up from his bed, walking over to him and stopping him entirely.

Miles looked at you with a rather confused and amused expression, probably still processing the fact that you openly admitted to liking him in middle school. But nothing in the world could have prepared him for the delicate kiss that you placed on his lips. He eagerly closed the space between the two of you, wrapping one arm around your waist almost by instinct. You pulled away from him after what felt like years, muttering a small "Who taught you that?"

[eldritch-nightmare]

possible tw: blood, murder, ritual sacrifice, alcohol, many mentions of drunk people, brief mention of vomit though there isn't actually any in the story

idk man i'm just thinking about how the spot where jack got sacrificed is probably considered a 'party spot' by both high schoolers and college students so every party that matters always takes place there because people love to be cool and edgy and don't care about the fact that it was a spot of ritual sacrifice and that the cult members performing the sacrifice were all brutally murdered by some unknown killer.

and i'm thinking of you being dragged to a raging party there by your friends. you didn't want to go, you had like multiple papers to write and your professor was giving you absolute shit for not meeting the deadline like everyone else but your friends don't care.

"you need to relax! have some fun! live a little!"

that's their reasoning, and it's not like you can just ditch now. you were the designated driver, and you're far too nice to just abandon your friends at a party while they're all getting shitfaced.

anyways, the party is filled with other students from your college. most of them are drunk, and the place is honestly starting to feel like a scene out of a shitty slasher. you're half expecting jason voorhees to walk out of the forest and murder everyone here.

that doesn't happen, thankfully.

no, instead, over the blaring music blasting through the bluetooth speakers, the host/DJ of the party announces that in memory of the many that were sacrificed at the altar everyone was partying around, an offering should be made.

an offering of blood, that is.

which... that's a fucked up thing to suggest, you think. people died. people were killed here. it's fucked up enough that there was a party going on here in the first place, but to make light of something so tragic in such a way just feels disrespectful to the people that died.

and maybe it's because of the alcohol almost everyone here was drinking, or maybe it's some form of peer pressure but everyone, including your friends, seemed to dig the idea.

maybe this is a low-budget cult classic slasher...

you honestly weren't even paying attention to what was being said anymore, instead going over to one of your friends to tell them you were just gonna wait in the car until they were ready to leave.

but when you were stepping away from them to do just that, they were suddenly grabbing your hand and holding it up while excitedly pointing at you.

"they'll do it!"

"excuse me?"

because you're not even sure what the hell your friend just signed you up for, and you didn't even have a chance to do anything before you were being pushed forward and then dragged towards the altar.

you resisted, of course, because you did not want to take part in whatever it was they had planned. you're quite content with your blood staying inside of your body. where it belongs.

it's harder to fight against multiple drunk people than you thought it would be.

"guys, this isn't fucking funny, stop it-"

a blindfold is being forced on you, robbing you of your sight as you're forced down onto the altar. then your hands were bound together, which was only putting you further on edge because it honestly felt like they were actually going to 'sacrifice' you.

your demands for this to stop were ignored as the host of the party went on and on about the tragic murders that took place here and how your blood would appease the angry spirits of the 'poor lambs' that were slaughtered. the guy was starting to sound like a member of a cult, honestly.

which... considering the location, coupled with the sudden demand for sacrifice... well. you're really hoping this was a joke, honestly.

this was starting to go on for far too long to feel like a joke anymore, so your annoyance began to bleed away to genuine fear, "guys, seriously. this isn't funny."

and when you felt the sharpness of an actual blade press up against your neck, you began to realize that this situation was actually dangerous.

"let the sacrifice commence!"

and the blade against your neck pressed down hard enough to draw blood, but before any real damage could be done, the screaming started.

you're... not sure if this was part of the sudden impromptu ritual you found yourself in.

it sounded genuine. one person started screaming, and then another. until everyone at the party was seemingly screaming. the blindfold over your eyes prevented you from seeing what was happening around you, but the blade pressed against your throat was suddenly gone and you could hear it clanging as it was dropped on the altar.

"run!"

"oh my god, what is that?!"

"h-hey man! it was just a joke!"

"don't hurt me! please don't hurt me!"

and then everything went silent. too silent. even the air was still. you were far too afraid to move, even more scared to speak.

but that's when footsteps filled the silence, and you could hear as they approached you.

you couldn't help but flinch when you felt a hand grab your bound wrists. you tensed up, waiting for the worst. instead, you felt the rope binding your hands together come undone.

another hand pulled your blindfold down, and your blood ran cold at the scene surrounding you. there were bodies everywhere. some were still twitching. all of them were gruesomely murdered, their throats ripped out.

you had to force yourself not to vomit, especially when you recognized a few of the bodies to be your friends.

but the carnage around you seemed to pale in comparison to the man that stood in front of you. he was... very much not human. he wore a mask, so the only feature of his face that you could see was his eyes. or... lack thereof.

he didn't say a word, and for a moment, you didn't either. but the silence was too loud.

"are you going to kill me?"

and he tilts his head slightly at the question. the mask he wore hid away his expression, so you weren't sure if your question confused him or amused him.

he doesn't speak, but he does step away from you. that was enough to tell you that no, he did not plan on killing you. you don't say anything else after that, and you don't take your eyes off of him until he leaves you alone on the altar, surrounded by numerous bodies.

the drive back to your dingy little apartment was deathly silent. you were alone, but you didn't feel alone. and when the morning came, news broke about the massacre. every body there had its organs missing, and the police had no leads on who the killer was.

the blade that had your blood on it was gone, so there was no evidence that you were ever even at that party.

and after that night, every night to follow it was... different. even when inside the safety of your own home, you felt as if you weren't alone. something was watching you. you knew who it was, you just chose not to acknowledge it.

the glimpses of blue that you caught outside your window every other night was enough to confirm your suspicions.

you aren't sure why he was watching you. maybe it was to make sure you didn't go to the police, though you sincerely doubt they'd believe a word you said if you tried. or maybe it was something else.

you don't know. but you caught his attention.

you can only hope that nothing bad comes from that.

[3-2-whump]

Mini-Comfortember Day 6

Prompt 6: Baby It’s Cold Outside

<prev

A continuation of yesterday's comfortember prompt. Told from the other side of the glass.

TW/CW: captivity whump, slave whump, minor whump (but only because Khaled is sixteen, nothing bad happens to him), carewhumper, conditioning (briefly mentioned)

There’s nothing quite like the quiet calm of the season’s first snowfall. The snowflakes drifting daintily to the frozen ground were accompanied by the roar of the penthouse’s furnace, the ambient music on Thomas’ Bluetooth speakers, and the incessant banging on the sliding door to the rooftop balcony.

Thomas tore his eyes away from the emails he was replying to on his tablet. He looked up at the teenager outside desperately begging to be let in. No less than half an hour ago, the sixteen-year-old stood enraptured by window, saying he’d only ever seen snow on TV before, and then wondering aloud if it felt as soft as it looked. And Thomas, like the gracious master he was, decided to unlock the boy’s ankle cuffs and let him out in his first snow for a bit. It seemed the ungrateful little bastard was already sick of it, as he banged on the door with his reddening hands and shivered in his hoodie and sweatpants.

“Master, please! Let me in, I’m cold!” Khaled’s voice was muffled by the thick glass, which was steadily fogging up with every word.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s what happens when you go out in only a hoodie, sweatpants, and sneakers!” he yelled back. He conveniently ignored the fact that the hoodie and sweatpants were the warmest clothes the boy even had, and he didn’t buy him any boots. “Come on, just weather it out for ten more minutes?” he offered, already turning back to his emails.

“You said that fifteen minutes ago!” Khaled protested. He jammed a finger into the glass door. “I can see the clock on the stove from here!”

Damn, that kid has good eyesight! Thomas took one more look at his emails and groaned, switching off the tablet and rising reluctantly from the warm spot he made on the couch. “Alright, alright, alright already! I’m coming!” he called. He flicked the switch and slid the door open, letting in a frigid gust of air and the fastest teenager he’d ever seen, as Khaled ducked hastily into the warmth.

“F-f-f-f-fuck snow… ‘s too c-cold…” Khaled murmured as he struggled to take off his sodden shoes.

Thomas closed the door and knelt next to Khaled to help him take his shoes off. “You’re soaked through, boy, and freezing, too!” he commented. His warm, broad hands brushed against Khaled’s smaller, colder ones. As he straightened back up from where he knelt, Khaled’s wide brown eyes followed him, with melted snowflakes in his lashes glittering like gems in the living room lights. His face glowed red from the cold, and he clenched his jaw to prevent his teeth from chattering. Even if Thomas didn’t go out in the cold himself, looking at his pathetic boy was almost enough to make him shiver.

“Would you like something to warm you up?” he asked.

Khaled nodded immediately. Thomas placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him towards the couch. “Snuggle up with the electric blanket next to the couch –remember, next to the couch,” he emphasized. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

He clapped the boy on the shoulder and made his way towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge, then the cupboards above and to the right of the stove, then the drawers below the island countertop, and before long, he was heating a saucepan of milk and decanting powdered hot chocolate mix into two mugs. Once the milk came to a simmer, the man took it off the heat, poured and mixed it carefully with the powder in the mugs, and topped each mug of dark, steamy liquid with mini-marshmallows.

Thomas came back to the living room, mugs of hot chocolate in each hand, and smiled affectionately at the pile of blankets curled at the foot of the couch. Next to the couch, just like he’d said. “Good boy,” he praised.

There was hardly anything of Khaled’s peeking out from underneath that blanket cocoon; the only way he knew the boy was under there, besides the vaguely human shape, were the pair of sock-clad feet poking out near the bottom. “I’m gonna pass you something hot, alright? Be careful.” He extended the mug towards the blanket nest, and a lighthearted feeling fluttered in his chest when a hand darted out to grab it and slowly absorb it back in. “I’m sitting back down.” He carefully treaded around Khaled until he could settle back into his previous spot on the couch. Outside, the snow still silently fell. Thomas took a sip out of his hot chocolate, then picked up his tablet again, balancing it on one knee as he opened the email app again.

A warm, fabric-swaddled weight pressed itself against his shins. “Thank you, Master,” Khaled said from beneath the blankets.

He chuckled. “You’re welcome, Khaled.”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire @phoenixpromptsandstuff @scumashling

[countfagula]

Sooo uhhh Copia headcannons because I was terribly sick on Ghost Day(TW: depression,eds(its recovery based but still) and a little bit of angst) also spoilers for Rite Here Rite Now.

-Copia has struggled with his appearance since he was a teenager but he’s been recovering with the help of his ghouls he does still of course have his days but he knows he can go talk to someone about it.

-Copia has depression(pretty sure that’s canon) but it gets the worst after Sisters passing and funeral. He doesn’t eat or sleep for days on end after thinking about the fact he’s lost a mother he never got to fully know and the only thing that pulls him out of it is the fact that Aether comes to talk to him and remind him that she’d be so proud of how far he’s come and that his doing great as Frater Imperator. Which whether Aether knows it or not is exactly what he needed to hear.

-Okay more lighthearted one…Copia absolutely adores any kind of music even pop music it’s not unusual to find him blasting ABBA or Bowie as he works on his paperwork. He also sings in the shower loud as he can with the music blasting from a Bluetooth speaker.

-Copias love language is absolutely acts of service both giving and receiving. He loves to do things for the people he loves! Examples: He’ll bring food to the infirmary or greenhouse to make sure Phantom or Mountain are actually eating since they tend to forget(and of course they invite him to share),He keeps an eye on Dewdrop to make sure he can tell when the fire ghoul is getting a little to heated or is feeling down and try to help him anyway he can. (Dew does the same thing for him in return),He reminds Rain to take his anxiety meds before they go out so that he won’t panic so easy.(Rain in return reminds Copia of his own meds) etc..

Okay my brains stopped for now but yeah Copia ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap- Chapter 16

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so. Also, this chapter's a little longer since I likely won't be able to upload this Friday due to work commitments.

Potential Trigger Warnings: none

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Stella’s house is a bustle of energy by 10am. The hair stylist and make up artist are setting up while the photographer is milling around getting photos of the dress and accessories as they get laid out. Me, Stella and the bridesmaids are all sipping fresh coffees as we try to wake up. The excitement is definitely in the air, but so is the tiredness from the early wake up call. I lay out some freshly baked breakfast snacks, kindly donated by Stewie for the big day; while he declined to do the cake weeks ago, once he got back in the kitchen he promised to provide some light snacks for the morning. We are all thankful for his contribution, as none of us feel like cooking. 

Felicity and Gabriella are the first in the chairs; while they of course want to spend the most time on the bride, it’s also important that she’s the freshest. I enjoy sitting back, relaxing and snacking while I wait for my turn. While I wait, I scroll through my photos for the hair and makeup inspiration pics I took offline and then connect up to Stella’s bluetooth speaker and put on some music to boost the mood. The stylists start some small talk about the bride and groom, how they met, the bachelorette party, the plans for tonight, anything they can think of to build the excitement. We all join in, sharing happy and funny stories. 

After a while, Stella and I are finally sitting side-by-side as the stylist brushes and curls her hair and the beautician applies foundation to my face. It’s everything I could have dreamed it would be, and I can’t help but hope that one day the roles are reversed and she’s by my side while they’re styling my hair for my wedding. I push the thought away before I can imagine any other parts of that fictional day, like who the groom could be. Instead, I root myself in the present, wanting to enjoy this day for what it is: one of the best days of my best friend’s life and so by default, mine.

A few hours later, me and the bridesmaids are helping eachother into our dresses carefully, trying our best not to disturb our hair and makeup. The stylists are still standing around on standby to complete any final touchups, but we all know there isn’t time for a redo if we mess anything up too much. Once we’re all dressed, we finally help Stella into her snow-white ballgown-style wedding dress. I help straighten out the off-shoulder straps over her biceps, ensuring the sequins don’t scratch her, while Felicity carefully kneels down to fluff out the skirt. I then pull her hair out from where it caught in the back of her dress and smooth it out along her back, careful not to catch or pull on her perfectly styled curls and bun. 

When I come back around in front of her I take both of her hands in mine. “So beautiful, Nick isn’t gonna know what hit him.” The bridesmaids agree with me, gushing over the fully-dressed bride. We all put on the final touches like our shoes and jewellery while the stylists check and touch up our hair and makeup as necessary, just before we’re interrupted by a car horn outside. I look over at Stella with a big smile, “Time to go marry yourself a husband!”

Stella squeals with excitement. We collect our bouquets and purses and head outside. There are two classic cars in the driveway all decorated up; one for me and Stella and one for the other two bridesmaids. I help Stella in, being sure not to crumple her dress or veil or get it caught in the door when I shut it behind her, I then round the car and get in the other side. The bridesmaid’s car pulls out first and then ours follows a close distance behind. Stella’s knee bounces all the way to the chapel. I let her squeeze my hand as she tries to steady her nervous excitement. 

When the cars pull up out the back, the carpark is already full and her parents are waiting by the door. I get out and then help Stella out before straightening out her dress and making sure she looks perfect. I then hand her over to her parents. They pull her in for a big hug as I step to the side with Felicity and Gabriella. The three of us walk inside and stand just behind the doors in a line as one of the organisers explains the process to us, despite having gone through a full rehearsal last night. I smile back at Stella, standing between her parents as I hear the bridal march begin to play through the chapel. As the organisers push open the large wooden doors everyone stands and turns around. Felicity and Gabriella start to walk down the aisle first, followed by me and then finally Stella and her parents. As I look up at Nick I can see the tears in his eyes as he focuses on his beautiful bride. I smile brighter. Once I reach the front I step to the side and face the crowd as I watch Stella step up to her husband-to-be. He kisses her cheek and takes her hands as her parents pass her to him. I step forward to take her bouquet before standing back to the side. She gives me a grateful smile before focusing fully on her groom and I just know that everyone else has fallen away in their minds and it’s just the two of them there together.

The ceremony is beautiful, it goes perfectly according to plan, just as everything in their life does. The celebrant welcomes everyone and starts the ceremony before prompting them to share their personalised vows. They both share their promises and words of love through teary eyes before exchanging their rings. Then, after sharing a passionate kiss, they run hand-in-hand back down the aisle, out the wooden doors and into a waiting car. Everyone follows behind to see them off. We wave excitedly as they zoom off for a private photoshoot before the reception. As everyone mills around outside and chats, I try to emerse myself in idle conversation to pass time. The doors to the restaurant won’t open for a little while so we need to pass time. Eventually, once the sun is beginning to set everyone starts to file into their cars and make their way over to the venue; I want to be in there and set up before the bride and groom make their big entrance. Gabriella, Felicity and I catch a ride with Travis in the hire car they came in, Travis rode with the groom so is happy to drive the rental with us. 

The restaurant is beautifully decorated, just as we left it. With party favours on each table and stunning centrepieces, made up of flower arrangements. Each seat is labelled to match the seating plan that I’d painstakingly helped Stella and Nick create to ensure the smoothest night possible. Most people get along, but every family has those few people that are best kept apart for whatever reason. Everything is exactly as I remember except a small stage set up in the corner with a sound system and instruments. Despite no one being near them, quiet music is playing behind the chatter of everyone’s conversations about how great the service was and how beautiful everything is and just catching up in general. It’s amazing how weddings can bring everyone together, I see people you haven’t spoken to in years. Of course, I don’t no many people there, but that’s okay, today’s not about me. I’m just thrilled for Stella. 

I visit the bar and order a wine to get my night started before I move around the room doing my best to mingle and chat with her family and a few of our shared friends from college that I haven’t spoken to in a while. Most of them have partners accompanying them, but a few are single. After a while, everyone finally takes their allocated seats. A few gasps and whispered chatter ring out around the room seconds before live music starts to play from behind me. Just as I’m about to turn around everyone starts to cheer as the bride and groom make their big entrance. I join them clapping and cheering as yI give them the biggest smile as they make their way – the long way around – to their seats in the middle of the bridal table. It’s only when I turn to look over at Stella and Nick that I catch the band in my peripheral vision and my jaw drops. 

I force myself to keep my focus on the lovely new couple and not make eye contact with the man expertly strumming his guitar from the small stage. The raging ball of guilt in my stomach does a sommersault and I feel sick but push it back down. Thankfully, Travis takes the attention of the room by standing up to toast the newly weds and give a short speech. I keep my eyes firmly on him as he speaks. Once he finishes he nods over to me as he introduces me for the maid-of-honor speech. It takes me a moment to acknowledge him. But once I get ahold of myself, I stand up and focus on my notes as I attempt to deliver the speech smoothly. I push everything else out of my mind for those painfully slow few minutes as I focus on the bride and groom and tell stories about mine and Stella’s friendship and how happy I am that she found Nick and how happy I hope and know they’ll be together as they move into this next stage in their life. I finally raise my glass and everyone cheers. I wink at Stella as I sit down.

Before the meals are set to come out, Stella informs me that she needs to use the bathroom. I follow her in and help her lift up the massive skirt and keep it from getting dirty while she uses the toilet.

“Was that your doing?” I ask as she pees.

“I told you, I got an offer that I couldn’t refuse. Plus, Dean Winchester was my crush first. How could I turn that down. I don’t know what happened or didn’t between the two of you, but he was very persuasive.”

“How? I didn’t…”

“I don’t know how he figured it out but maybe three days ago the venue called me and said someone had offered to play for the wedding, they gave him my number. And as I said, he was very persuasive.” I help Stella fix her dress while she washes her hands. “It’s my wedding, I got a band that I happen to love. If that also results in my best friend getting her plus one and a dance then that’s just a bonus. I hope you know that I expect a full, detailed explanation of everything that has already gone down and everything that goes down while I’m on my honeymoon, once I get back.”

“We’ll see. For now, tonight’s about you! So let’s get you back out there to your husband!” Ilead her back to the table just in time for the alternative drop meals to be delivered. After dinner, each of their parents and a few other guests give speeches before handing back over to the bride and groom to give their speeches to each other. I engross yourself in the speeches to keep my eyes from wandering to the back of the room. Although amongst all the kind words and talk of eternal love I notice that the background music isn’t being played by a live guitar anymore but instead is a quiet pre-recorded romance track. With that revelation, I let my eyes wander and I notice the stage is free of people. Knowing he’s no longer so close behind me, at least for a few minutes I relax slightly. 

By the time all the speeches are over, the band’s back in place playing quietly as Stella and Nick stand in the centre of the room to cut their cake. As the knife scrapes the plate, they kiss and everyone cheers. The staff then come in to take the cake to the kitchen to slice it up and prepare the desserts. My attention is instantly drawn to the band when I hear Jensen’s deep voice sing the first notes to the song Stella picked for their first dance. I’mamazed that he either already knew it or learned it in just a few days. Stella and Nick take eachother’s hands and move slowly in time with the music. I watch as they gracefully move across the floor. Her head rests on his shoulder as he leads. 

As the song ends and the next one starts Felicity and Gabby nudge me and I quickly stand up and take hands with Travis as he leads me to the floor, followed by the two bridesmaids and groomsmen. I do my best to throw myself into the dance and focus on Travis as he leads me, dancing surprising well for what I know of him. Once the song ends I try to pull back but he holds me close. “I know the kind of man you know me to be, but I promised I wouldn’t let you dance alone or sit out tonight.”

“You didn’t have to do that…I’m okay.”

“I did…Stella’s surprisingly scary.” 

I smile and nod, prepared to let him lead me into the next song. But as the next song starts I notice the voice filling the room is different. Someone comes up behind us and places a hand on my shoulder. “Mind if I have this dance?”

I flick my head around to look at the owner of the deep, Texan drawl. 

Travis looks at me to check and I nod. “Alright,” he says as he steps back, “She’s all yours.”

I smile at Travis as he walks off to find someone else to dance with before spinning around and taking Jensen’s hands and letting him sway me with the slow beat. In a hushed voice I say, “I can’t believe you’re here…”

“You stopped answering my messages or calls…What choice did I have?”

“To forget me…Move on?”

He shakes his head. “I know this isn’t the time or place to have the conversation we need to have, so will you meet me tomorrow?” I meet his eyes briefly and nod. “Good, then let’s just enjoy this dance.” I rest my head on his shoulder for the remainder of the song. Just before the song ends he spins me out and back into his chest. “I promised the bride a dance, so I should go. But thank you. I plan to steal another from you later.”

“Yeah, she’s a pretty big Dean fan…She couldn’t believe I didn’t know you.” 

He lets out a little chuckle, “Yeah, you’re rare and special. Save another dance for me later?” I nod and he pulls away and crosses the floor to where Stella and Nick are playfully dancing to the now upper-tempo song. When Jensen cuts into their dance Nick comes over to me. We both stand off to the side, leaning against the bridal table. 

“Hey, so, uh…I owe you an apology,” he says, breaking the awkward silence.

“Nah, it’s alright. You were just looking out for your bride, as you should. I’d be more mad if you didn’t.”

“Maybe, but I did go overboard. I just get protective when it comes to her…But I should’ve known pushing you away would make her mad too. I’m just glad she didn’t call today off.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t, she loves you. And she knows you were acting from a place of love when you did it. So do I. Plus…you weren’t all wrong, but this isn’t the time or place. We should get back out there before your bride physically drags us out there herself.”

“Yeah…thanks for helping make all this happen by the way. I don’t think I ever told you, but you’ve been a massive help. That’s another reason I’ve felt so bad for what I said, despite what I said you kept turning up and helping with everything. You already know she appreciates it, but I do too.”

I look around the room. “I’m just glad it all worked out. You guys deserve a fantastic night.” Not sure what else to say, I take his hand and lead him out onto the dancefloor.

Jensen moves back and forth between the stage and the dancefloor, doing his job performing but also giving the people what they want and dancing with any girl who recognises him. The night’s almost wrapping up by the time he gets back to me. I’m leaning against the wall finishing a glass of wine when he come up to me.

“So, I was just informed the next song’s the last…care to join me?” He holds his hand out to me expectantly. 

I finish the last mouthful of wine, put the empty glass on the nearest table and take his hand. After everything I’ve said and done and after he pushed so hard to be here, I feel you owe it to him, but also I really want to be in his arms again. He leads me into the middle of the room as his bandmate starts to play and sing a slower love song. He pulls me close, his hands resting on the middle of my back, not letting them fall too low. Mine rest around his neck as we sway in time with the music. As the song goes on, he starts to sing along quietly, just loud enough for me to hear. 

“I've been waitin' for so long

For somethin' to arrive

For love to come along

Now our dreams are comin' true

Through the good times and the bad

Yeah, I'll be standin' there by you

Baby you're all that I want

When you're lyin' here in my arms

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven

And love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart

It isn't too hard to see

We're in heaven”

Once the song ends he pulls back, but only far enough that he can make eye contact with me. “Give me a chance…let me come over, or come to my hotel, or meet me somewhere neutral, location doesn’t matter, just please…for whatever reason I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Jens…”

“I’m just asking to talk.”

I nod. “Alright, but somewhere private. We don’t need a repeat of last time, tonight’s gonna be bad enough.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Sorry to interrupt,” I hear Stella say from behind us. I pull away from Jensen to face her.

“Congratulatious on the big night. I hope you had a great time,” he says to Stella.

“Thank you. And thank you for coming and playing for us tonight, it was much better than a jukebox. Plus, you made a lot of people’s nights,” she looks at me with a smirk, “Most of all my amazing maid-of-honor here, and believe me, she totally deserved a great night after all the hard work she’s put into making it happen.”

He looks at me and smiles, “Yeah. Well anyway, I better help Steve pack up the gear.”

Once Jensen’s out of ear-shot, Stella says, “I’m so sorry for interrupting, that seemed important, but Nick and I are gonna head out, but I couldn’t disappear on my honeymoon without saying goodbye to you first, and thanking you for everything.”

“I’m just glad you had a great night,” I pull her in for a hug.

When she pulls away she reaches over for her bouquet on the bridal table. “Amid everything I forgot to do the toss, but…” She hands it to me. “Give him a chance. Give yourself a chance.”

“Stel…” I shake my head while smiling at her, “Just go and enjoy your honeymoon. We’ll talk when you get back.”

As Nick approaches, she quickly says, “I’m definitely gonna do that! Thank you, I love you and I’ll talk to you in 10 days!”

He wraps his arms around her waist as he comes up behind her. “You two have fun!”

The remaining guests wave the happy couple out as they run out hand-in-hand. Everyone else filters out pretty quickly after that but I hang around to gather some of the decorations and items that I know Stella will want to keep, such as photos, the wishing well, and the guestbook. Just as I finish getting everything important into a couple of boxes, Jensen comes back up beside me. “Need a hand?”

“I can manage, you should go.”

Felicity call out from the doorway, “Hey Y/N, need a ride? My Uber’s here!”

I look over at her and then back at Jensen apologetically. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Uh, yeah…” he nods, and I pick up one of the boxes but he puts his hand on it to stop me as I turn around. “ Unless, you wanna stay back for a night cap, I can call you a ride after. It doesn’t have to be with me, I can get you your own.”

I hesitate and Felicity calls out again, “Y/N! He’s getting impatient. We gotta go!”

I look between her and Jensen again and then sigh before waving at her and calling out. “You go. I gotta finish up here.”

She rolls her eyes at my hesitation before disappearing outside.

Obviously feeling guilty for putting me in a difficult position, Jensen takes his hand off the box in my hands and apologises.

“It’s fine. I would’ve had to do a few trips and they wouldn’t have liked that either. But I can get my own ride, it’s fine. And, uh, I think they’re gonna kick us out, so the night cap’s probably gonna be out too, sorry.” I look around and notice it’s just the two of us left inside. I put the box back on the table to rest my arms for a moment.

“Alright. How much are you against getting a ride together at least? I don’t wanna overstep or anything. I just want more time,” He gestures at the boxes, “Plus, I could give you a hand with all this.”

I bite my lip as I consider his offer. “Listen, I’m too tired and too tipsy and this is gonna come out all wrong, but I just need you to know that just because you came all this way doesn’t mean I’m going to have sex with you.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times as he tries to come up with a response. “No, I…I don’t expect you to…That’s not…I wasn’t insinuating.”

I nod. “Alright good. A ride and the boxes. That’s it then. I just need your arms.” I pick up a box and then realise what I said. “That’s not…I just mean…”

“I get it. It’s fine. Let me just call my driver and then I’ll give you a hand with those.” He pulls out his phone.

“Your…driver?” I shake my head. “It must be nice…”

“It’s not what you think. He’s a good friend.” Jensen shakes his head as he holds his phone up to his ear. “Hey Clif…Yeah, I’m ready if you just wanna pull up round back…Yeah…” he glances back over at me with a smile. “We need to make a stop on the way though…Yep, I’ll cover it…See you soon.” He hangs up and leans against the table looking at me before he grabbing the other box and walking out to the parking lot with me. 

While we wait for his friend to bring the car around, he says, “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been too forward or given the wrong signals. I don’t mean to. I didn’t come all this way to attempt to win you over for sex…I just wanted to give you a reason to talk to me. As I said, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I couldn’t leave things the way we did.”

A large black car pulls up in front of us and a tall, muscular man gets out of the driver’s seat and opens the trunk. Jensen puts his box in and I follow suit. Jensen then opens the back door for me to climb in. I slide over to the far side and he climbs in beside me. Once the driver takes his seat again he turns around, “Where to boss?”

“You can drop the act Clif, she knows you’re a friend.”

“Alright, Boss. Where to?”

Jensen rolls his eyes and then looks over at me. I tell them my address and Clif keys it into the GPS. Despite wanting to use the time to respond to Jensen’s confession outside the restaurant, I feel awkward with his friend in the front seat. Between the nervous energy and the adrenalin in my system, my leg starts to bounce. Jensen notices and after hesitating a few times, finally places his hand on my knee; he doesn’t slide it any higher, just sits it comfortingly on the top of my knee. We endure the rest of the ride in silence until Clif finally finds a park on the street in front of my apartment building.

“Am I waiting?” Clif asks.

Jensen looks at me, smiles and then nods. “I’m just gonna help her with those boxes, I’ll be right back.” I open my door and Jensen follows suit. He opens the trunk and we each take a box and then I lead him inside to the lift.

As I press the button, I look up at him. “You can just leave it, I can manage from here.”

“You don’t want me to see your place?”

“Honestly? Not really…But also, you’ve done more than enough.”

The lift dings as the doors open. He steps inside first, leaving me no choice but to follow. I put the box on the floor so I can press the button for my floor. Once the doors shut he says, “So, am I crazy? Am I chasing something that you’re never gonna be ready for?”

“No. I just have things I need to work through. Trust issues, personal issues, financial issues…Look I’m too tired for this conversation tonight. I know you came all this way, but…”

“Yeah, I came all this way and put you on the spot, which is exactly what I promised I wouldn’t do. I’m sorry.” The doors open and I lead him down to my apartment but stop in front of the door. I pull my keys out of my purse but don’t move to unlock the door. Sensing my uncertainty he places the box on the floor by my feet. “Take the night. I don’t want to push you. Just text me in the morning and let me know what you decide. I will step back completely if that’s what you want or need. But if you want to give us a chance, text me somewhere to meet and we can talk. Okay?”

I nod as I fiddle with the keys. He nods and turns and walks back down the hall to the elevator. I look down at the boxes and notice Stella’s bouquet sticking out the top; her words ring through my head. I look back over at Jensen just as the doors open. I call out, “Meet me at the cafe, 6pm!”

He smiles, nods and then steps inside. Once the doors close I let myself into my apartment, cart in the boxes and dump them in the corner. Not having the energy – physical or mental – to wash off my makeup, undo my hair or shower, I collapse on the couch.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

[lalunanymph]

shaped like home. kakucho

. . . his safe space will always be you.

tw. suggestive content, talks of death, food mention, an injury mention, scars, big scary men who are soft n nurturing bfs

Nirvana was in the shape of a man with incongruous eyes, a scar running down his face and his full lips twisted into a smile as you laid in his arms, cosy from the fresh rays of a Saturday morning.

Home was the familiar mould of his chest underneath your cheek, his skin smelling of pine and musk, the scent seeping into your thin nightgown. He looked down at you, smiled, and you swore your heart could’ve burst out of its ribcage, singing a sweet tune.

You once told him that his eyes reminded you of rubies and diamonds; how they glinted with warmth even when his face was unsmiling. How you were drawn to his kindness and goodness, especially considering his height and forbearing aura. 

Scary guard dog privileges, you had once joked when you both walked through a busy night market street, hand in hand; his fingers twitching slightly from the shock of your sudden observation. He did not retort, nor did he rebuke you. Rather, he gently squeezed your palm, holding you closer to his side, exactly like a loyal canine. 

That was the thing about Kakucho—his loyalty could move mountains.

When he believed in a cause—believed in you—Kakucho would move heaven and earth to be next to you as you fulfilled your dreams. Even if it was borderline silly like wanting to bake focaccia bread at 3AM or going rollerblading when you didn’t have much stamina and physical strength to begin with. 

He would get flour up to his elbows; catch you before you fall and tend to your scrap knee with barely a grimace. A sturdy presence you could always rely on, that sometimes you wondered—feared—when would it be his turn to do the relying upon? 

Behind the man was the boy who had everything taken away from him.

You sensed the wounded inner child in his touch—the way he would not let you go after waking from a nightmare, the twitch in his brow when you tell him you’d be out late drinking with friends; the slight tremble of his breath after every soul stealing kiss you both shared.

Every minute gesture, every quirk of his downturned lips and lingering touches spoke one harrowing insecurity loudly and clearly—don’t let me go. 

You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. 

Not when his large palms are clasped around your waist, holding you up while his slick cock languidly thrusted in and out of you. His touch was neither firm nor gentle; it didn't bruise, and yet, it was steady enough to leave light indents in your plush flesh. His pretty face was contorted into pleasure, those unique, incongruous eyes growing hazy from the enticing grip of your walls around his length. 

So good for me, he praised against your throat, his words lost in a hazy murmur. So beautiful for me. 

You believe him. It’s hard not to. 

When he woke up with you curled against his chest, Kakucho was not one for believing in the goodness that fate has bestowed on him until he feels you smiling into his scarred skin. Amongst many other things you loved about him, those old lacerations were your favourite. They told a story, one you loved to map out because sometimes, there are some things no one can talk about even after years have passed.

A story of his bravery, his strength, his lasting endurance.

The wholeness of him and the lives he led before meeting you. 

They seem to ripple like a churning sea when he dreamt; his unconscious murmurings born from a world you did not have access to; the still waters you wished sometimes you could dip into just for a split second to discover what made Kakucho Kakucho. 

You’re staring at me again, he sleepily blinked his beautiful eyes opened when the sun rose. Morning, angel. 

Morning, you replied, finding his lips, the sweetest start to any day. 

One night, he pulled you into his arms, the Bluetooth speaker in the kitchen playing a song you both recognised from your early dating days. Reminding you of those moments suspended in time when he used to bring you out to restaurants which would take you months to save up for just one meal, midnight car rides which ended up with you on his lap, lips pressed sweetly together and hours spent in parks talking and musing about life in its totality. 

He kissed your temple, asking: “Do you believe that we have somewhere to go to after death?” 

You paused in your movement, head tilted to the side. “Hmm?”

“We’ve always been told that life ends at death. But, what if it begins?”

His voice was soft, compelling. 

You tried to match the sudden poignant atmosphere.

“Did something happen at work?” 

The Bonten executive does not reply. He exhaled against your forehead. “Just tell me if you believe in something beyond us.”

“I do,” you replied quietly after a beat. “I believe that there are many, many worlds out there which we do not know about and sometimes, if we’re lucky, we’ll go there.”

“What about if that person has done many atrocious things in their life?”

You squeezed him tighter. “Then, the person deserves even more grace.”

“Why?” His tone is fringed with subtle disbelief. “How can you say that when they chose a life full of violence?” 

Shaking your head, you hummed. “There’s always circumstances and choices. I believe they both influence each other closely. Everyone has a choice, but sometimes, circumstances can be cruel.”

He doesn’t reply. 

Neither did he come to bed that night, and you made that discovery when you turned to his side and found his sheets cold. You slowly slipped into your cardigan, pushed your feet into a pair of fluffy slippers. He was in the living room, slowly sipping on a glass of Scotch, gaze unfocused, high planes of his perfect face illuminated by the gentle moon rays. He did not startle when you entered and sat down next to him, laying your head on his shoulder.

 You don’t speak, and he doesn’t, either. 

Slowly, you felt him defrosting at your proximity. It started with a quick exhale, and the glass met the coffee table with a crisp click. His arm came to wrap around you, holding you close while the smell of alcohol washed over you like a comfortable wave. The ends of his midnight blue hair tickled your forehead, like how his mild stubble rasped against your cheek. 

“You should be asleep.”

“So should you.”

He exhaled a laugh. “Stubborn.”

“Kaku?” 

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Yes, love?” 

“You deserve gentleness, too.” He never expected you to say something this jarring yet tender; his resounding silence is proof. “Everyone does. In a world where nothing is certain, all we have to do is be kind.”

“Kind?” he echoes your words hollowly. “I don’t believe I have ever been like that.”

“When you play with my nephew, you’re kind.” You crept your hand up his defined arm, grasping his forearm in your gentle hold. “You smile at stray kittens. You always leave me an extra serving of whatever you bought or cooked. You’re there when people need you. You remind Ran to get enough sleep and Rindou to lay off too much sugar. You tell Mochi how much you appreciate his friendship when you’re drunk and Koko knows he can trust you with housesitting whenever he’s in Italy. You’re kind. I wish you could see yourself like how I see you.”

You finished your quiet soliloquy with a squeeze to his wrist. 

Kakucho doesn't say anything—he’s like that when he’s thinking, it took you years to understand him inside and out—but, he held onto you tighter and forgot about the Scotch he was nursing. Or, the regret that curled a little too close in the conflicted shambles of his consciousness. 

Discarding his moody fugue, he took you to bed, letting you melt against his side and drew patterns on your back until you dozed off. 

But, before you did, he kissed your forehead, and murmured:

“Sleep tight, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here with me—always... I'm glad to call you my home."

i miss him :(

© all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[arielhopepeace]

Part Two

Tw: sliiiight smut? 18+ only

Part one is here

Part three is here

5,300 words

It's finally the weekend, and you're inwardly celebrating as you wake up without a phone alarm blaring in your room. You flick your gaze over to your bedroom window that is draped shut, shielding you from the horror that is daylight. Well, the sunshine is beautiful, of course, but you just hate that damned sliver that sometimes cuts through and blinds you while trying to sleep.

Rolling out of your bed, you stretch, finally deciding to pull the curtains open to let the hot light spread onto your skin. As you peer out to the vacant street, you can't help but turn your head to the left a bit, seeing if Joel's truck is in the driveway.

You're reminded of last night and all the wonderful feelings he gave you. It was a dream being able to just spend time with him and not have anybody else around to shield you from interacting. That was the first time you hung out just the two of you, and you couldn't help but feel all the sparks the entire time.

Making your way into your kitchen, you decide to play some of your favorite music off of the small, but loud Bluetooth speaker that rests beside your stove. The beat captivates you as it always does, your mind in a trance as you sing along, knowing every lyric, every breath, every pause.

It adds a bit of rhythm to your routine as you prepare your morning coffee. Your finger grazes over the buttons on your Keurig, hearing it whir to life before spouting out the brown liquid that always gives you the extra pep for the day.

You're in a ridiculously giddy mood today, and you know it's because you can't get Joel's brown eyes out of your mind. The way he smiled at you when you joked, or the softened twinkle in his eye when he thanked you for giving Sarah the prize; both memories making you practically swoon.

There's a sharp, quick knock on the front door that makes your ears perk up over the music as you hurriedly turn it down. You've never gotten an unplanned visitor, so you can't help but to approach the door with slight trepidation.

Your eye meets the peephole, seeing something that has been dropped at your front door as the man in the blue uniform departs from the item. Letting out that anxious sigh of relief at not having to speak to anyone, you unlock the door, pulling it open to see a dainty, beautiful bouquet of zinnias that rest in a small wicker basket.

You pull the basket inside, carrying it to your dining room table with a cocked head of curiosity. There's a folded white note stuffed into the side, and you yank it out to read your name on the front of it. Your heart soars as you read the handwritten note inside the paper.

Y/n,

To repay the kindness of gifting Sarah the prize that I won for you last night. If it helps, you can name every single flower Joel in place of the monkey.

Thank you again.

Joel (not the monkey)

Your face aches as you read, giggling like a fool as your eyes scan the note after reading it a few more times. You can't help but find the messy scribbles of his handwriting to be endearing, and so incredibly romantic. The fact that he took the time out of his day to write this note and have flowers hand-delivered to your door is enough to make your head spin; way more than it did on the rides last night.

That doubt scratches its way up to the surface again, and you can't help but feel like this is purely a friendly thing, and not a romantic thing like you want it to be. Regardless of the meaning behind it, it means a lot to you, and you know that you have to thank him.

Pulling out your phone, you begin to text Joel.

10:30am

Just received some lovely flowers with an even lovelier note. Thank you. You didn't have to do that for me.

Joel

10:32am

I'm glad you got 'em. Ordered them as soon as I got home last night and was hoping they'd be delivered today. I wanted to get them for you. It was a thank you for Sarah, but also just a thank you for keeping me company last night. I had a lot of fun.

10:33am

I had fun, too. The most fun I've had in a long time, it seems. All I ever do is work.

Joel

10:34am

You and me both. We have the weekends at least, right?

10:35am

Thank god.

Setting your phone down, you rub your cheeks, the ache becoming almost unbearable at this point from grinning like an idiot. There's no time in your life where you can remember being this happy, maybe except for when you graduated high school. But even that didn't top the feeling that Joel gives you.

You decide to yourself that you're going to keep the favors going. He did end up paying for everything last night, and getting you a lovely bouquet just for giving away a stuffed animal is too nice. You're going to make him some chocolate chip cookies and pray he likes them.

Even though you've known Joel for most of your life, you haven't known him on a personal level. Of course you know about his late wife and Sarah. You know both of their birthdays, but that's the most intimate the details about either of them get. Truthfully, you know more about Sarah just from talking to her at your dad's barbecues all the time.

When Joel told you he's about to be forty last night, you didn't realize just how insane that sounds. What on earth are you doing crushing on a man that is sixteen years older than you? Are you really going to bake him cookies just as an excuse to see him again?

Yes. Yes, you are.

Him and Sarah have their birthdays next month, just two weeks apart from each other. Joel has never made a big deal about his birthday, but your dad has usually always done something for it. Whether that be take him out to a strip club, or even inviting him and Sarah over for dinner, he's done it.

It's a shame that your dad has showed up to more of Joel's birthdays than yours. The pain of him not showing up anymore has subsided as the years have gone on, but when you're younger, it leaves a void in your soul that takes a long time to fill with merely distractions and presents.

You don't really care whether or not he makes it anymore. You don't mind just spending it with your mom and a few friends just getting dinner and drinks together. Your mom really has made your dad's seemingly lack of care a lot easier to manage, and you love her extra for that reason.

There's a ding that sounds through the kitchen, letting you know that the cookies you made for your neighbor/dad's best friend/crush/man you can't stop thinking about, are finished baking.

You pull them out, the whole house smelling of sweet, freshly baked cookies making you want to steal one right off the tray, but you resist. Not only are these for Joel, but you know Sarah will like them, too, and you don't want to take away from what they'll share.

You've settled on only making a dozen, knowing that six cookies per person is probably enough. The metal spatula in your palm slides smoothly beneath the cookies, your hand carrying them steadily to a wire rack to cool a bit faster. You're more than a little excited to give these to him, and you just hope he's home in the next ten minutes to get them.

12:30pm

Hey, Joel. Are you home?

Joel

12:35pm

I am. Why? Is everything okay?

12:36pm

Yeah, everything's fine! Just was wondering if I could stop by for a minute.

Joel

12:37pm

Of course. I'll be here.

You find a big enough plastic container to store the cookies in, sealing them closed tightly after transferring the still warm treats to their little resting place.

For some reason, your heart is pounding out of your chest as you walk the ten feet to Joel's driveway, briefly admiring his shiny truck before you walk up to his front door. Your fist hovers above the reddened wood, a terrified lump forming in your overly-dry throat.

"Fuck," you curse, finally pushing your fist forward to knock gently.

The door swings open, and Joel is standing before you in a loose white t-shirt and sweatpants, your neck tensing a bit from how arid your throat has become.

With words failing you, you push the cookies forward with the biggest smile you can muster through your overactive nerves.

"What's this?" Joel grins, reaching one hand out to grab the container.

"Chocolate chip cookies," you finally push out. "As a thank you for yesterday and the flowers."

He smirks at you. "You're not supposed to reply to a 'thank you' with 'thank you'."

"Then these are 'you're welcome cookies'," you giggle, Joel following suit.

"Would you like to come in?" he asks, holding the door open a bit more.

You nod, thanking him as you step inside. His house smells of flowers, the scent instantly transporting you to a blooming field in the middle of nowhere with nothing distracting you from the nature that grazes your legs and fingertips.

"Where's Sarah?" you ask, following Joel into the kitchen.

"She's in her room. All she does is talk to her friends all day, but it's okay. It's summer."

You laugh. "Yup. Her teenage years are starting. Expect her to be on her phone a lot more than normal."

Joel rolls his eyes with a small chuckle. "It's an obsession." He opens the container, bringing it to that curved Greek god nose that you love so much. "Mmm, y/n, these smell amazing."

"I hope you like them."

His hands push the lid back down with a few snaps, his eyes fixed to yours. "I'm sure I will. Are you helping me maintain my hot dad bod?"

Instantaneous embarrassment and regret floods you, the results splashing up your cheeks in a climbing tsunami of intense heat. All you can do is laugh, and you don't know if it came off as awkward or playful, but you feel like you've began to sweat.

Joel turns and bends down into his refrigerator, grabbing two bottles of water, sliding one to you. You thank him, gulping down a few relaxing sips. The drinking allows you a moment to think on how to respond.

"Well—" you begin, being interrupted by the soft, sweet voice of Sarah.

"Hi, y/n!" she gives you a quick, excited hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I made you guys some cookies. Make sure you tell your dad to leave enough for you, okay?"

Sarah scoffs, crossing her arms. "If he doesn't, I'll be sure to let you know. Will you make more if he eats them all?"

"Of course," you giggle as you nod. Your face turns to Joel. "Well, I'm gonna get going. Thank you for the water."

He smiles, nodding his head slightly. "Of course. Let me walk you out."

"Bye, Sarah," you wave, the little girl not making eye contact as she waves goodbye with her other hand opening up the container of cookies.

Joel walks you back to your door, his hands going into his blue and white striped pajama bottoms. "Well, how am I supposed to thank you for your thank you?"

"You're just supposed to say you're welcome."

He chuckles, peering down at you with a shadow creeping down his eyes from his brows. "How about dinner? I can either cook or take you somewhere, you tell me."

Your body freezes, feeling as if you've been pushed into wet cement. Did Joel Miller just ask you out on a date?

"What? Really?" you can't feign your surprise.

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Why not? We can do it tomorrow or tonight. Whenever and wherever you choose. Just let me know."

"And how am I supposed to one-up you for having dinner with me?"

Joel laughs, his head thrown back a bit, exposing his strong, veined throat. "It's a competition now, is it?"

"Damn right. You can't out-nice me, Joel."

He chuckles, his gaze settling onto yours. "Fine, then. I'll pick where to take you just to out-nice you on purpose. Pick you up at six-thirty?"

Giggling, you nod your head. "What's the attire?"

Joel taps his bearded chin with his first finger. "Something—nice?"

"Nice. Okay, I got it."

"See you later, y/n."

"Bye."

You step into your house, doing a short celebratory jig at just technically being asked out by Joel. Nothing could've prepared you for this day, but you're elated regardless. You know that he means this as a strictly friendly thing, and that thought will always sting any time you think of it, but right now you don't care. You get to spend another night with Joel.

It's nearly six-thirty, and you've done your makeup to the best of your ability, feeling more nervous than when you went to prom practically alone. You've put on your favorite dress that has always accentuated your figure, complimenting its delicate femininity.

You're not one that has a ton of confidence, but tonight, you feel beautiful. The thought of what Joel could be wearing sends your racing mind into a whirlwind of emotions. Being this nervous, excited, confident, happy and timid all at the same time has to be illegal. You've never experienced so many complex yet different feelings at once.

A rapping knock comes to your front door, your heart leaping out of your mouth and down to the window like a barking dog. You feel like it takes eons just to reach the doorknob, your wrist finally twisting and pulling it open to see a dapper-looking Joel.

He's sporting a plain navy button-up shirt with one button undone at the top, as well as fitted black slacks that the loose fabric of his shirt is tucked into. You can't recall a time where you've seen him look so well-groomed. Even his hair has been slightly slicked back, and his beard is more tamed and less lumberjack looking.

"Hi," Joel gives you a smile. "You look nice."

You chuckle, stepping out of your house to turn and lock the door behind you. "I don't think you've ever dressed so fancy."

"Hey," he feigns offense, "I can clean up some. I'm just more comfortable the other way."

"Well, forgive me for forcing you to be uncomfortable," you tease.

Joel laughs. "It was my idea."

He opens the passenger door to his truck, allowing you to hop in. Your eyes follow him as he walks around the front, stepping in to the driver's seat.

"No Sarah?" you ask as you turn to see an empty backseat.

Joel clears his throat as he begins to drive. "I asked her, but she wasn't interested in where we're going."

Your heart sinks a bit at the fact that he asked Sarah to join. This is definitely just a friend thing.

"And where is that?"

"Do you really want to know, or would you rather be surprised?"

You giggle, dramatically tossing your eyes back with a massive sigh. "I guess I'll wait."

Joel chuckles, leaning forward to turn on the radio. Music plays gently through the speakers, and you watch as Joel bops his head along. All you can do is laugh, admiring his boyish charm.

"What, you don't know this?" he asks as he turns it up a little.

You shake your head as your face begins to ache once again. "No."

"C'mon, it's Grateful Dead!" Joel sings off-pitch and very loudly, but it doesn't make you love it any less.

Your eyes never leave him as you laugh, the entertainment of the night being the handsome man beside you, serenading you in an over-exaggerated, theatrical manner. The entire time you are cracking up, the song fading off and Joel joins in with your laughter.

"Okay, I'm a shit singer," he says dramatically with a grin.

"No!" you beam, "I loved it."

His head turns to look at you with a gentle smile, melting you from the inside out with just a simple look. God, how does he manage to do that?

Joel pulls up to a nice Japanese restaurant, and you grin from ear-to-ear.

"Hibachi and sushi," he says to you. "I honestly don't really know if you like sushi."

"I do," you nod. "This place is expensive, Joel. You didn't have to take me here."

His chocolatey eyes soften, his brows lowering gently with them. "But I wanted to."

He walks around and opens your door, holding out a hand to help you step down from the truck. To your disappointment, he releases your palm from his, that pang of sadness tunneling through your stomach.

Joel holds the restaurant door ajar for you, and you thank him as you walk in. He quickly joins you, letting the hostess know that he made a reservation under Miller.

"Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Miller. Follow me." The hostess walks away with two menus tucked into her arm, but you're still lingering on the sentence that just left her lips.

You are desperately praying that Joel briefly blacked out and didn't hear her say that, but you know he did. At least she didn't think you were his daughter, right?

The hostess drops off the menus at a small, secluded table, away from the large hibachi grills that rage with fire and heat. Your eyes are fixed onto the menu, trying to get the Mr. and Mrs. Miller thing out of your head as best as you can.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why she said that," Joel says awkwardly, his eyes suddenly on yours.

It's like he can read your mind and sense the shift in your demeanor.

"Oh, please. It's fine. I don't care," you shrug it off, playing as cool as possible.

"Well, have you decided if you'd like sushi or the hibachi?"

He's changing the subject. Clearly he's uncomfortable with the idea of you two ever being more than friends. God, why must you hang on to every word he says and read into everything?

"I'm cool with sushi. The hibachi is—loud," you chuckle. "What about you?"

"Honestly, I've been craving some sushi. I'm glad you said that," he laughs wryly.

Your server comes over, taking your drink orders. Joel orders himself a beer, so you decide on some red wine for yourself.

"Just so you know, the sushi love boat is on special tonight if you two were interested in that. You'd each get your own choice of two rolls, including the sashimi and nigiri that comes with the boat."

You can't help but laugh, Joel giving you an apologetic, yet humored smile.

"I'm fine with it if you are," you say with a giggle.

Joel looks to the server. "We'll just decide what rolls we want by the time you get back."

"Of course. No problem." The young man leaves with a quick spin.

"God, y/n, why is the world trying to make this uncomfortable?" Joel eyes the menu with a grin.

"Because that's life," you laugh. "You have dinner with a friend and everybody tries to make it seem like it's more than that."

That same dark weight of melancholy settles into your chest, setting up its own tent for the night. You've just implied that you want this to be nothing more, only to ease Joel's mind.

"Which rolls have you settled on?" he asks, his eyes still scanning the menu.

"Definitely the spider roll and the spicy tuna."

"Ooo," he coos, "that sounds amazing. I'm really hoping that your next nice thing you do for our competition is let me try your rolls."

You giggle. "Only if I can try yours, too."

Once the boat of sushi is brought out, you notice that the rolls in the center are shaped into a heart. Your skin puts little effort into hiding the heat that is practically shining from your cheeks. Joel thanks the server, ordering himself his second beer, as you ask for a second wine.

You both dive in with your chopsticks, adding only a small dip of soy sauce to your piece before pushing it between your lips. You groan, your stomach's low growling reminding you of just how empty it is.

"Did you happen to have one of the cookies yet?" you ask, dipping your next piece of sushi into the salty brown sauce.

"I did. They're amazing, y/n, seriously. I'm a pretty shit cook. You gotta teach me how to make cookies that good."

A giggle escapes your throat. "I'd love to."

You're feeling less anxious now that you've had a full glass of wine, the alcohol simmering all of those racing thoughts and negative feelings a bit. Of course there's still that echo of sadness in your chest, but you're just happy to be sitting across from the fun, wonderful man who brought you here.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to come to your dad's barbecue?" Joel asks with perfectly innocent begging eyes.

"Oh, stop with that look," you laugh. "You're not guilting me into this one."

"I promise you won't be alone. I'll be there! Shit, I'd probably end up talking to you the whole time anyway."

"I don't think my dad would like that," you smirk. "He'd want you all to himself as usual."

"Well, too bad. He can entertain himself more this time."

"I don't know. I'll think about it," you smile softly. "Did he invite your brother Tommy?"

"He did, but he's not coming. He's having a rough time with his wife right now."

Your brows furrow with concern. "Oh, no. I'm so sorry to hear that."

Joel chuckles quietly, finishing the piece of sushi that's in his mouth. "You're sweet, y/n. Maybe some cookies would cheer him up."

"I'd definitely make some if he wanted them!"

He laughs, wiping at his mustache with the thick cloth napkin. "I know you would."

You're halfway through your second wine, and you think you've finally built up enough liquid courage to ask him a question that's been nagging at your brain since yesterday night at the fair.

"Can I ask you something without you thinking I'm weird?"

Joel looks to you with raised brows and a small, curious smirk on his glistening lips. "No promises there, but you can ask me anything."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Shut up. I just wanted to ask you how you think my dad would feel about us hanging out."

He's quiet for a moment, as if thinking of the correct thing to say. "I'm not sure. I don't see why it should be a problem. We're just friends—right?"

"No, I know. My dad can just be, well, my dad."

He chuckles, nodding his head. "I get what you mean. Truthfully, you're just a hell of a lot of fun and I enjoy being around you."

His words send a warm caress through your nervous system, your body lining with goosebumps.

"I enjoy being around you, too. Last night was the best fair experience I've ever had," you let out a laugh. "Every other time has been subpar at best."

"I completely agree! Seriously haven't had fun at a fair like that since I was a teenager. And that was when I could handle the rides much better."

"Oh, stop. You act like you're about to croak."

Joel laughs loudly. "It feels like it! Everything cracks and aches all the time. I'm a dad to an almost thirteen year old girl. Jesus."

"My body pops and hurts too. You're not special, Joel."

You both join together in laughing, your lips pressed to your wine glass to finish it.

"I don't have a daughter, though. You've got me there," you continue with a small giggle.

"Are kids something you want for your future?" he asks, downing the rest of his beer.

You nod. "Yeah, I'd like to think so. Being a mom scares me, but also holding a tiny version of yourself that you created with someone you love seems so magical."

Joel smiles fondly. "It is. One of the best feelings in the world."

The server drops off the check, and Joel quickly snatches it before you can even move your hand to grab it.

"I saw that gaze, y/n. This was my treat, not yours," he scolds playfully.

You roll your eyes. "Now I have to think of something nice again. Maybe I'll have to go to my dad's barbecue after all."

He chuckles. "Seems like a fair trade to me."

After you leave, Joel drives you back home and parks in your driveway, getting out to help you down from the truck again.

He walks you to your door, grinning down at you. "I had a wonderful time, y/n. Thank you."

"No, thank you. Dinner was delicious," you smile wide. Your eyes flick to your door, suddenly feeling courageous enough to ask, "Would you like to come in for a drink?"

Joel shifts the weight to his other foot, his expression unreadable. "Uh—I don't know if Sarah is waiting up for me or not."

"That's okay," you grin. "Another time."

He looks to the right at his house, then back to you. "You know what? She's probably just on her phone anyway. I could have a drink."

Your chest tightens with excitement, that giddy rush zipping through your bones. You unlock the front door, hanging your purse behind it on the coat rack. Joel follows you to the kitchen, and you bend down into your fridge.

"Okay, I don't have any beer since I'm not much of a beer drinker, but I have some very delicious gas station white wine that gets me through my lonely days."

Joel guffaws. "That's fine with me."

You retrieve two glasses from your cabinet, pouring the both of you a decent amount of wine into your cups. Before sipping, you give a light tap to the rim of his glass.

Joel quickly downs all of it, your eyes widening.

"Thirsty?" you ask with humor twisted into your words.

"Apparently," he laughs, pushing his glass towards you for some more.

You oblige, watching as he sips the alcohol this time. For some reason, you get the sense that Joel is uneasy, and you aren't sure why. Is he uncomfortable being in your house? Or is he worried about Sarah?

"Hey, if you're worried about Sarah, you can go home. It's okay, Joel, really."

His eyes meet yours as a gentle smile spreads onto his face. "No, she's okay."

Your hand stretches out to rest on his arm. "Then what's wrong?"

Joel's brows furrow together, his eyes seemingly filled with a worry that you're unsure of what its cause is. "I just don't know what to do."

"About what?"

You notice that Joel's body has grown closer to yours, and you can smell the fresh cologne that's been sprayed onto his chest and neck. He tucks your hair behind your ear, sending a bolt of electricity through your entire body.

In an instant, he's pressing his soft lips against yours, his hand cupped to your left cheek. You can't help but gasp at the unexpected contact, your pulse at an intense, dizzying rate. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, and it isn't nearly as timid as the initial kiss.

You move your hands to his hair, feeling the bit of gel he put in it before dinner tonight. Your body presses tightly to his, the moment intensifying as Joel pushes you against the closed refrigerator. A few magnets fall and tumble onto the floor, but you don't care. You're too busy with the hottest man alive on your mouth. He's a skilled and talented kisser, his tongue sliding against yours with such expertise, that you can't help but let out a moan of satisfaction.

Joel chuckles, both of his hands now on your hips, pulling you towards the erection that begs to be let out of the prison that is his slacks. Your body is ablaze, your hand traveling down to squeeze his thick length through the fabric.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes closed as he lets out a groan of approval. You can't believe how the night has turned. Also having you in disbelief, is the sheer size of his cock. Your hand isn't even long enough to cover him from the hilt to the tip.

"Joel," you whisper, panting from the intense arousal you feel. "Touch me."

Your breasts are rising and falling heavily, begging for his hands to reach out and grope them. His eyes fall to your chest as your hand continues to stroke him, a slight glaze of arousal setting over the whites of his eyes.

"Fuck, y/n. You're so beautiful."

Absolute music to your ears. The words you've craved to hear pass his skilled lips for so long are finally said. Joel squeezes his eyes shut briefly, his hands still on your hips. He quickly backs up, your hand reaching out to follow, but he gently stops you.

"What's wrong?" you ask breathlessly.

Joel briefly puts his hands on his hips as he shakes his head. "I can't, I'm sorry." He strides across the house, quickly making his way to the front door.

"Joel, wait—"

Before you're able to stop him, he's out of the house, closing the door firmly behind himself. You feel consumed by perplexity, unsure of what you did that caused him to leave. The ghost of his lips on yours still lingers there, like a whisper that can hardly be heard. Nothing confirms that this isn't a dream like the intense throb between your thighs.

You want to text him and ask him what went wrong, but truthfully you're too terrified. You've gone and ruined a perfectly good friendship all because you can't resist anything about him. The magnitude in which you crave him is unlike any desire you've ever had in your life. He's captivating in every sense of the word, and he's left you weak in the knees with dampened panties all from a steamy kiss.

The feeling of his weighty cock in your hand makes you bite your lip at the memory, another rush of arousal making your entrance flex tightly around absolutely nothing.

You despise how bewildered you feel, but even more-so frustrated by the unsatisfied tension in your body. The heat that Joel stirred within you is going to be left untouched by him, and it makes you scrunch your eyebrows in disapproval.

Getting ready for bed, you finally cave and decide to send Joel a text. It's maddening at this point, and your mind keeps replaying the moment over and over again.

10:30pm

I'm not sure what happened. Did I do something wrong?

You expect a text from him right away since he usually responds to you quickly, but you don't get one.

As you settle beneath your comforter, you lay awake, listening to the unfamiliar noises in your house that somehow seem louder tonight. You clutch the fabric of your bedsheets in your palms, praying that your phone will vibrate from your nightstand with an explanation from Joel.

But it never does.

****

[mlmxreader]

The Flirting Game | Eames x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: Eames: Hi!! Hope you're doing good 🖤! May I please request something using the following prompts for Eames X non-binary, male, or gn!Reader: "Just fucking leave it, alright?!" Thank you 🖤!! 🐍anon

summary: tensions are rising, and it's not fun for you or Eames.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

Eames hummed as he shuffled his playing cards at the table, only daring to look at you from the corner of his eye; you had been sour all day, and he couldn't pinpoint why. Your bad mood, he assumed, was just one of those days. It had to be. He couldn’t think of any reason why you would be in such an awful mood, after all.

But then, maybe it was something he had done; he thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. No, he hadn’t even spoken to you that day except a few texts here and there to check in with one another like usual. But Eames couldn’t wrap his head around it, and frowned as he looked over at you as you made yourself a cup of coffee; something was definitely wrong, as a heavy metal song he knew you loved was playing on the Bluetooth speaker connected to his phone, but you didn’t even mouth the lyrics like you usually did when you made coffee.

He furrowed his brows, you were definitely up shit’s creek and he was sure that he was holding the paddle; he used his phone to turn up the volume a little bit, but you didn’t notice. Something was absolutely wrong. He rose from his chair, letting his playing cards fall to the table before he made his way over to you, grabbing your sides like he usually did but doing his best not to hum in disappointment when you didn’t play along like usual. 

“What is it?”

“Don’t fucking worry,” you huffed, brushing him off. 

That wasn’t normal, either.

You never brushed Eames off, the same as he never brushed you off; you were the best of friends, always had been. You never brushed one another off - sure, you kept secrets and you had boundaries, but you never, never brushed each other off or pushed each other away. He was confused, and admittedly, a little hurt.

“Darling-”

“Just fucking leave it, alright?!” You snapped, pushing him away from you before storming off to the bedroom. 

Eames frowned, wincing a little when the door slammed shut. He sighed, shaking his head as he didn’t know what the fuck he was meant to do. He didn’t know how to comfort you, he didn’t even know what was eating away at you so terribly. If he knew, maybe he could have comforted you; he knew though, that his own problems would have to wait.

Sure, Eames had been pining after you for years upon years and had wished that he had had the time to tell you how he had felt for so long - but either his work, personal shit, or your work always got in the way. Like the universe was against him and didn’t want you together as anything but friends. He sighed, resigning himself to the table and drinking your coffee. He hated it, it wasn’t made the way that he liked but he drank it anyway because he loved you enough to look past a different taste in coffee.

He sighed, going back to his cards and shuffling them as he waited and waited; it felt like years before he heard the door open again, and quiet, hesitant footsteps approached. Eames looked up when you reached the chair beside him, and he dared to smile as he cleared his throat. 

“Good evening, darling.”

“I’m really sorry, dearest,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I just… a lot of shit right now.”

Eames nodded in understanding. “For all of us. It’s alright.”

You sighed, shaking your head again. “It’s not.”

“Darling,” he scoffed, shaking his head fondly as he started to lay his cards out for a game of solitaire. “I love you enough to forgive you for drinking shit coffee. I’ll forgive you for a little lashing out.”

“You’re not pissed?”

“No!” Eames almost laughed. “If you had broken my mum’s shire horse ornament, then yeah - but you didn’t. So I don’t care. A door can be replaced - you can’t.”

“Thanks…” you muttered, leaning your arms on the table. You rested your chin just below your hand as you sighed. “Can I let you in?”

He nodded, placing one card on another. “Always.”

“It’s Cobb,” you explained, “he keeps flirting with me and sending me all these really flattering and… weird, if I’m honest, messages. Like he wants to, I dunno, go on a date or something but I… shit, Eames, I can’t imagine doing something like that with anyone but…”

“But?”

“Anyone but you,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I know, I know I’m an idiot and I should probably jump at the chance to spend time with anyone else but… but you get me. You let me in, and I let you in. We’re…”

“We’re good together, darling,” Eames replied, doing very little to not sound smug. “Aren’t we?”

You nodded in agreement, daring to smile. “We are, yeah… quite honestly, I’d be fucking livid to spend my days with anyone but you.”

He grinned, nodding. “So it’s mutual… can I let you in?”

You nodded. “Always.”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for ages,” he started, “but my work, your work, personal shit with both of us always gets in the way… but, my dearest darling, I’ve wanted to be something different to friends for so long. I told you - I said, you mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger. What if my dream’s being able to spend my years with you?”

“Then I’d tell you we need to do everything we can to make it real,” you said softly. “But, y’know, Eames, I have to admit something.”

“Go on.”

“You’re so much better at flirting than Cobb is,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Really. So, so much fucking better.”

Eames grinned as he licked his lips. “Someone like you? I always have to be on top form - can’t have someone else snatching you up, can I?”

You grinned back as you shrugged. “I guess not.”

[yourlocalwheeliebin]

Driving Home to Bucky After A Long Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Gender Neutral) Reader 

Word Count: 1.3k

TW: None 

AN: Just a short but sweet one shot about our favorite boy. This has sat in my google docs for a ass time so I hope you all enjoy! Okay, mags out!

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It’s been a long day. Too long for it to only be a Wednesday. You're having to work late because one of your colleagues fucked up some paperwork after a mission that you now need to fix. Your boss is nice enough to ask if you need dinner orders but you tell them no and you'll eat when you get home. “Fucking Sara, how do you screw up a goddamn injury form this badly” you groan, filling out anther claim made by our colleague. 

Finally, after around 3 hours past your usual shift, you're able to leave for Buck's. You look out the window and the rain has only gotten heavier on the cold November night. It’s pitch black out apart from city lights and cars that drove past. You shut down your computer, grab your coat and start to head out. In the lift, you message Bucky letting him know you're finally on the way home. It's almost 8pm. 

You run to your car, holding your jacket over your head to not get too wet. You sit there for a few minutes to let out a deep sigh and release some stress that you'd been holding. Starting up your car, you turn on the heating and connect your phone up to the Bluetooth. Songs that remind you of Bucky start to play, a feeling of ease finally washes over you as you pull out of the parking lot. 

Traffic in Brooklyn is brutal, the journey home taking far longer than you'd like it to. The lights of other cars slowly strained your tired eyes. The yells and noise of the city deafened by the music playing through the speaker. Your clothes and hair slowly dry as you drive, wondering how much longer the journey will take.

Pulling up to Bucky's apartment, you turn off the car and lie back on the seat for a second. Almost steadying the tiredness and stress from the day before you venture into the apartment complex. The area isn't the nicest but it's near where he grew up. A rough blue eyed boy from Brooklyn who deserved the world waiting for you to come home to him. Mentally cursing how many stairs you'll have to climb since the lift is out of order. 

Entering the building, the dusty smell of the cold building is a stark contrast to the cold November air outside. The climb up the stairs felt like an eternity, the walls getting progressively dirtier as you climb each flight. Standing outside the door of Buck’s apartment at last, you slowly open the door to the dimly lit home. 

Bucky's apartment wasn't much. He rented it when it was just himself living there, not taking into account meeting you or the fact he deserved more than just four dingy walls. Parts of you linger in each room, a daily reminder that you’re real and not just part of some sick dream. That you're really with him, not planning to leave any time soon. 

From the toothbrush in the bathroom; to the extra blankets and cushions you bought for the living room so the leather of the beat up old sofa wouldn't stick to your skin after hours of watching TV together cuddled up. Fairy lights hung up in the bedroom and living room, a fond memory from when you put them up at Christmas the year before but never took them down since you thought they looked pretty. He couldn't help agreeing, saying they looked beautiful as he stared at you rather than the yellow lights decorating the walls. 

The small kitchen held home to kitchenware that you bought once you found out he only had two pots and a frying pan for pancakes. A cheesy apron hung up on the edge of the door that had "Kiss the Cook'' on the front, a joke gift that a friend of yours bought you for your birthday. 

Though the apartment was small and there was barely enough room to move in it, he wouldn't change it for the world. His room didn't have a door to separate it from the living room and sure, the heating didn't work half the time and don't get him started on the guy on the 2nd floor who flirts with you every time he runs into you....he wouldn't change it one bit of it meant a life without you. 

Walking through the door, the smell of cinnamon, leather and dust washed over you. A warm welcoming smell that always felt like home to you. He always seemed to smell like old leather, pine and something sweet that you couldn't quite put your finger on. You took off your shoes and called out to Bucky as you put down your bag and jacket on the small side table that was next to the front door. 

You looked around for Bucky as you walked in. The kitchen island was tidy for once and the wooden floor had been mopped. 'Must have cleaned while I was out' you thought as you walked towards the sofa in the middle of the living room. An old Friends rerun playing on the TV again. 

Buck walks out from the bathroom in a t-shirt and a pair of tracksuit bottoms, looking freshly showered with his wet hair sticking to his forehead. He comes over with a smile on his face, eyes still the brightest blue you'd ever seen, and envelopes you in a hug. He asks how work was as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. You explain your day before quickly heading off to change out of your work attire.

After changing and finally feeling comfortable again, you walk into the living room. The main lights had been turned off, the fairy lights from Christmas were turning the room a warm and cosy yellow. Some candles were lit on the kitchen island and on the TV stand as some soft music played in the background. You laugh a little as you walk over to him. Sat on the sofa, Bucky smiles at you, knowing how hard today must have been.

"Long day?" He asked. "God, don’t get me started” Buck stood up from the sofa, making is way to the middle of the small living room and placed a hand on your lower back and slowly pulled you in for a kiss. “I would gladly have rather spent the day here”. Buck let out a small breathy laugh, “well you’re here now” he says, almost whispering as if was trying to convince himself you were real. 

“How'd you do this all while I was getting changed? I was only in there for like 5 minutes, Buck". He takes your hands in his as Louis Armstrong starts to play through the speaker. "I may have planned this out a bit before you got home. Plus, food has been ordered. Got your favorite" He said with that same sweet smile he always gives you. Even though your tired, that damn Bucky Barnes Charm is irresistible. 

“Wow look at you go, ordering food from your phone” He scoffs sarcastically. “Hey, I am perfectly capable ordering from the phone, it’s not rocket science” You laugh, resting your forehead against his. “I know, I’m only joking old man”. 

He pulls you close and starts to sway to the music. The windows open slightly let in the light noise of rain and that ambiance of the city outside. It all adds to the small bubble the two of you had made in the apartment. The song changes to Can't Help Falling In Love With You as he places another kiss on your forehead. 

"I love yah, Doll. You know that right?" You turn your head to face him. The swaying stops and his hands rest on your waist. His face, dimly lit by the fairy lights and candles. "I know, I love you too Buck. Always have, always will". The two of you go back to softly swaying to the music, wrapped in each others warmth. Feeling safe in the world for a moment.