#usually i shop in the men's section which is a little less like this i don't know why i didn't today

[vampyroteuthid]

american clothing sizes are out of control the words mean literally nothing and even things like "30x30" which you would think would maintain a certain consistency across brands since ostensibly those are the measurements of the pants are also actually just some kind of joke manufacturers like to play on anyone wearing clothes. fuck you if you want clothes that fit

[emeldiir]

Hello sorry if this is a strange question to ask but I have a similar build to you but I’ve been wanting to get more masc clothes for forever and I was wondering where you got them from? You’re very handsome btw!

not a strange question at all, thank you for the ask and the compliment!

I get a majority of my clothing from thrift stores. i am on the poverty line and i don’t have a lot of resources at my disposal. In order to find clothes that fit me, i usually half to spend an a hour and a half to two hours at my local thrift store looking through the minimal plus size section.

If you’re shopping in the men’s sections: figure out your waist size in inches (whatever measurement system is relevant to you) and use that. I am a size 48 in men’s pants, and so that is the size i look for when buying jeans, dress pants, and trousers. if you don’t know your inches or your size and you can’t measure it out, use some clothing from men around your home if you have men living with you. you can estimate your size from trying on their clothing and checking the size.

most of the pants in the men’s sections have inseams that are too long for me, so learning how to hem your pants or pin them up is invaluable when you’re looking for a nice fit. i’m significantly curvy so often times these pants aren’t made with my body shape in mind. this requires a little finagling to make the shape flattering to my body.

once you find your size in clothing you can then put your size into ebay and search up clothing in your exact size that ranges from used to new! this is such an underrated method of finding clothing for a cheaper price while still getting a good fit.

my biggest piece of advice is, if possible: do not thrift basics like undershirts, underwear, wife pleasers, boxers, shapewear, etc etc. as a fat person, thrifting any of these things has the potential to cause chafing and be worn through and weak, which causes significant discomfort.

I’ve bought my undershirts from target, from their brand goodfellow (they are pretty tight on me as a lot of target isn’t fat conscious) and i’ve bought boxers from under armor which fit me pretty well. Since the boycotts have started, i’ve begun to buy less from large stores and tend to shop local, so if you can find basics from local textile workers, it fits you nice, and you can afford it i would go for that too!

I hope this helped!

[jackalsinthekitchen]

pop report #5: endless summer edition (9/16/23)

a sundazed glance at Billboard’s top 20 from two weeks ago – bitch, I said what I said

Summer’s over, the heat from the proverbial kitchen and literal sun still burning the other cheek I feebly turned to both. Per tradition, we’re bidding the season goodbye with a smattering of typical plaints that it wasn’t long enough, or felt like it didn’t happen. But here in Texas, it’s in full swing by early May, with not much mystery over what we’re in for beyond what degree (Fahrenheit) of punishing. So yeah – we’re pretty sure it happened. Yet again, we thought we were ready for it, and yet again, it went a little harder on us than it needed to. Whatever else went down, that lucky old sun made it cruel enough to justify a now-ancient Taylor chorus shooting up the pop charts. Like anything else that shoots up the pop charts these days, reasons why were imperfectly clear. One more testament to the inimitable inhabitability of the One True Pop Star’s catchy canon, perhaps? My summer wasn’t my fave; I can still feel it from here.

I’ve barely touched this new blog o’ mine, which I dreamt of putting up for years – the present you ogle at through the shop window for ages only to take it home and unwrap it, and see all that built-up desire instantly brown with oxidization. While Jackals! still doesn’t have a hook, for the first four weeks of 2023, at a rate of productivity that was ultimately to no one’s benefit, I looked at the pop charts and decided to think out loud about what they meant. But the thing is, in a year when people are thinking about it more out loud than usual, nobody seems to know exactly what they mean. There are analyses trenchant and muddled, and scattered rebuttals to both, strewn throughout comments sections we’ll never read. I’m too bored to even try to recap what I think I know about how these numbers are measured. Even my late best friend’s agitated analyses resisted my comprehension. Why dull the aesthetic with the statistical?

Suffice it to say, there are so many theories about “gaming the system” floating around, it feels a bit like last election year. Most of the people on my radar are in some way convinced that one Oliver Anthony Music’s “Rich Men North of Richmond” won its surprise Billboard victory through nefarious right-wing interference – comparable, you hear, to that Jim Caviezel movie about (fighting) child trafficking, where people bought out whole theatres just to stick it to Brandon. It’s not about the music, they say, it’s about waving a righteous-anger rag, and the rallying cry might as well be coming from any red-faced red-haired Bible-belt boy with a banjo who caught the Qanon virus at très-unmasked family get-togethers. A more neutral friend points out that “Rich Men North of Richmond” hung in at a basically ungameable top 3 place on Spotify for a bit. It was all great industry all around: for MAGAfolk, thinkpiecers, Billy Bragg.

Times change fast, though, so even if a few people are still reeling from them, the Billboard chart – much less Spotify’s Today’s Top Hits, where Anthony has vanished – has moved on to its latest single-star infiltration. That star is Queen Zillennial Olivia Rodrigo, whose guts are is filled with readymade hits, and who may portend a long-awaited pendulum swing back to a more rockist zeitgeist. But because it still literally does not matter what I do here, I wanna warm up these lazy fingers some by casting an eye back to two weeks ago, a whole world away, when the charts looked a bit more like they did in the middle of swelter season. At the ground floor of that top 20 was the indefatigable fatigue-pop of “Anti-Hero”, my most favorite song, which does not seem to have engendered a self-reflection revolution here on earth. But hey, maybe people are just keeping quiet about it. Even Taylor is going through some shit.

#19 is “Thinkin’ Bout Me”, by Morgan Wallen, the, uh, hot-button country artist about whom many folks certainly have thoughts. I haven’t heard this song as of this point in this paragraph, and I suspect it’s not as good as Frank Ocean’s pillow-pop classic “Thinkin’ Bout You”, which is the next song you get when you type “thinkin bout” in the search bar. Mr. Wallen, a reformed butt-rocker, has a harder edge than many of his southern-pop peers, and an excellent article I linked to earlier in this piece, written by a (non-right-wing) writer who’s spent just a little more time with young Wallen’s proudly endless albums than I have, suggests his lyrics even bespeak hip-hop (gasp!) influences. Perhaps this explains some words he enjoys using. The beat of this one is ripped unaltered from hip-hop; the lyrics might pass too, if rapped, though not in what I perhaps unfairly call “truck nuts voice”. Wallen is feeling upset, and entitled, about a recent breakup in this enduring hit, not helping his case by singing the song like an asshole. (More on this later.)

Country really is in its butt-rock era, in a sense – the guitars are amped-up and grinding, the (male) vox are growly and real-ass proud about it. “Need a Favor”, by something called Jelly Roll that’s miles away from Morton, was cited recently in an AA meeting I attended by someone it caught unsuspecting on the radio. We’re a very talk-to-God crowd in AA, and contra Wallen, there’s a humility in this song that’s not matched at all by its sound, but which pushes its stridence into something resembling passion. I’ve just found out via Google/Wikipedia that Jelly Roll is apparently an “American rapper”. He looks like a heavier Post Malone – also an “American rapper” even though everything he puts out sounds just like a pop song – and has a narrative about being incarcerated many times, which also lends some poignant complexity to his hit’s hook. Verdict: annoying if you’re in the wrong mood, but not necessarily bad for your health.

Next in my discovery journey is finding out who the War & Treaty are – they’re a Black husband and wife who weave country and rock into more traditionally Black styles like soul and blues. It makes sense that they’d team up with Zach Bryan, one of the better and, dare I say it, more soulful heavy country hitters hanging out in the high end of these charts. “Hey Driver”, which doesn’t trouble you with electric guitars or even drums at the top, is really stirring. The juxtaposition of tW&T’s full-bodied harmonies against Bryan’s voice, which crumbles once it hits the air, is gorgeous, and the lyrics boast a complexity rarely troubled with on most of these hits. It’s all sincerity, but for the most part, I feel like it earns it. Though the Billboard charts continue to exhibit a kind of separate-but-equal mélange of genres, this sort of crossover still feels rare – even if so much pop, R&B and country takes production cues from hip-hop.

At #16 (we’re at #16 btw) is the ever-restless, currently-somewhat-exhausted Miley Cyrus, whose tired but empowered “Flowers” is already one of pop’s great breakup anthems and stands as one of the songs of last summer. I spent some time in Ms. Cyrus’ canon last spring for a piece I’m proud of, but it didn’t dispel the impression I’ve always had that behind that fabulous voice and insouciant demeanor is not a very clear artistic vision. Cyrus swings from new tack to new tack, and unless she’s put a truly fantastic single together – she does this every so often – there’s always a trace of “unconvincing” there for me. “Used to Be Young” is scarcely different. A piano ballad, something she seems to personally favor, it has an air of reflective weariness (cf. “Malibu”) and light penitence (perhaps for She is Coming?). The media was rarely kind to her, but the hurt only comes out in her songs. The hook is solid, if a little programmatic (“you say I used to be wild, I say I used to be young”), and the music narrowly avoids sappiness with an atmospheric, beaty arrangement. And the fact is, when she starts to belt, she thins out her competition.

“Religiously” by Bailey Zimmerman – I would’ve typed “Blake” based on his face and sound if I hadn’t looked twice – is another revved-up, growly country song about having been deserted, and unlike Mr. Wallen, Zimmy doesn’t wink at you that she was super wrong to leave. The chorus – “I ain’t got the only woman who was there for me/religiously” – skirts patriarchal discomfort, but the lucky among us have had a deeply patient, unwaveringly supportive partner, so the regret is broadly relatable. The religious content is also rather muted – not like this is worship music or anything, though I guess it could pass if it were cornier – weaving the spiritual and secular in a seemingly seamless way. But it’s not not corny. It’s not clear if BZ has a sense of humor, and while his voice has some nice gristle to it (a la ZB), like most of country’s current heavy hitters, the music sounds straight from the factory (a factory with mandolins).

Lil Durk (feat. J. Cole)’s “All My Life”, #14, is also corny, but not enough to drag it down. The slow unfurl of its polysyllabic ruminations (there’s an element of hip-hop the rest of pop would do well to absorb), the classic-Kanye style kids’-choir hook, the simple, gorgeous chord progression: this is a song that aims to make you cry, and more or less earns it. Cole’s climactic middle section about slain young rappers is the highlight, of course; never were more brilliant pop stars cut down too soon than in the modern rap era. But the whole thing has a humility and sense of dynamics that arrests you the whole way through, even the verses you’re not following perfectly between choruses. There is a problem here, though – the single’s sweet sugar was harvested and glazed over by none other than Dr. Luke, one of music’s accused whose charges seemed credible enough to strip him of his license to practice. Can’t Ke$ha count on us?

#13 is “Flowers”, and #12 one of three fantastic hits from the indisputable movie of the summer. Barbie was fainter for me than I wanted, though I’m not sure how much more subversive – it’s quite subversive! – it could’ve been while still nailing the something-for-everyone thing. And anyway, what do I know? I’m just a Ken (or perhaps an Allan). “Barbie World”, the #12 in question two weeks ago – remember, this is all two weeks ago, I make the rules here – is the weakest of the trio. It’s a trap-haze interpolation of the old Aqua hit, a great song which nevertheless felt so aggressively hyper back in the ‘90s, it could hit like a form of torture in the wrong mood. Nicki Minaj, my original 2010s hero, hasn’t helped herself personally for a bit, but her effortless, earth-scorching command, even at a low temperature, is a perfect vessel for the universal empowerment this theme and its film intend – “all of the Barbies is pretty” indeed. #6 on this chart is Dua Lipa’s mint-condition, made-to-order disco anthem “Dance the Night”, the sort of banger that feels like it’s been around forever. The last Barbie hit, Billie Eilish’s startlingly canny “What Was I Made For”, a ballad that astounds a little harder every time it languidly unfolds, hung in at #22.

Oliver Anthony Music had dropped just outside the top 10 at this time. Part of my picking an earlier chart is that I wanted to write about him; that said, I don’t know that a single song has had more written about it in the recent past, and all in one week. Much was made of Anthony(whose beard conceals his build)’s irritation with people who use taxpayer-funded welfare to buy cheap treats. In fact, his fatphobia is the clearest toxicity in the lyrics, though the reference to “minors on an island somewhere” – as if the U.S. government did a thing to keep Jeffrey Epstein from hurting people – codes conspiracy theorist. But all the carping about his fishy success belies the fact that the song sounds great. Mr. Music’s voice is searing and powerful, the stark banjo and the outdoor ambience a production coup, and if it wasn’t so clear he was coming at this from the wrong place (though to be fair, he’s abjured any party affiliation), it would speak to the great open secret of U.S. politics, which is that bullshit pay is everybody’s problem, and these wedge issues, however serious, are there to distract us from uniting against our oppressors. As Billy Bragg put it in his pitch-perfect rebuttal, “join a union”. We’ve just been reminded strikes still work.

Having already touched on #6, I’ll breeze through 10 to 7. 10 is Rema & Selena Gomez’s “Calm Down”, an Afrobeat-graced pop hit with a vibe much resemblant of Bad Bunny and other recent Latin pop. Gomez’s post-Waverly Place penchant for coming on like she’s absolutely done with everything and is too tired to be bothered anymore suits the single’s quiet storm perfectly. “Vampire” is Olivia’s current piano-kissoff coup, and you already know how much it doesn’t suck. Gunna’s “Fukumean” gets stuck in my head here and there – well, just the “Fukumean” part – and I always subsequently wonder what it sounds like on the radio, where you still can’t quite say exactly what the fukumean. The music feels generic if peppy; the lyrics are conventional hip-hop aggro-bravado. SZA’s “Snooze” is no snooze, but also no “Kill Bill”.

I went through a breakup this summer, right around the time Morgan Wallen’s “Last Night” blew up. His music is insistently catchy and melodically brawny, so for a short time “no way it was our last night” was sort of a pet chorus in my head. But this deteriorated quickly, paying attention to the rest of the lyrics – said night was booze-fueled, not the most relatable or charming thing for a grateful recovering alcoholic, and once again, Wallen’s greasy cockiness is an automatic turn-off. There’s very little indication that his ex wants to stick around, much less that Wallen, whose cultural function is primarily as a “cancelled” superstar half of the country is propping up in retaliation, has done a lot of self-interrogation about it. The song really does sound great, and its hook is invincible, but once again, it isn’t exactly good for you.

The late-breaking triumph of Taylor’s “Cruel Summer” would also leave a bad taste if the song weren’t one of her best. I say this because of the recent scenario in which our new pop hero Olivia Rodrigo had to pay Swift, whose business acumen seems genuinely frightening, for a touch of inspiration from this song (a chanted section…?) that could be ungenerously interpreted as some sort of theft for which some sort of repayment is in order. Their lawyers worked it out, but bad blood feels inevitable; Swift famously supported Rodrigo in a deliberately maternal way when “Drivers License” (sorry, “drivers license”) hit, but it’s not impossible to imagine that zillionaire cipher feeling a twinge of jealousy from which a few petty things might result. Rodrigo’s evasive responses in interviews seem to give credit to this suspicion.

Into the top #3, and here sits one of my favorite curios, Luke Combs’ musically beefed-up but lyrically unaltered cover of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car”. Combs absolutely has truck nuts voice, and I’m still not clear what people who prefer that voice above all others do when he drops the line about his time as a checkout girl. It’s hard to pinpoint anything nefarious here; Combs has just sent an influx of money into the bank account of a more-or-less forgotten Black female singer-songwriter – though that song endures, and is now living in the high reaches of the charts, because it’s fucking fantastic. But then, I haven’t read any thinkpieces about it, and I’m getting about as tired of writing as you are of reading, so we’ll move on.

My boy Zach Bryan and our girl Kacey Musgraves are (well, were) at #2 with their gently broken collab “I Remember Everything”. With its soft bass-drum pound, quiet strumming, slowly sawn violins and swaths of echo, it sounds a bit like mists floating grimly over fields (antebellum, perhaps? Nah, not for Kacey). Here are two of our deftest, most openhearted country stars, and, finally, a country breakup hit with not a kernel of corn, setting its scene through pure suggestion instead of beating you over the head with a big new cliché in a sack full of old ones. Its magic dispels a little the closer you look, but it really works. So does the unflappable Doja Cat’s “Paint the Town Red”, noted by chartwatchers as the first rap hit atop the hot 100 in a hot minute. As with “Dance the Night”, once DC rolls in over the music, the song feels classic and eternal. Not unlike Dionne Warwick’s “Walk on By”, the source of its sample – a 60-year-old hit of such intense and incongruous fragility, it’s astonishing how well they worked it in. In the Spotify age, all pop is eternal. To that end, any summer whose soundtrack is woven into your soul is endless.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Pack Tactics (Werewolf x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Male!Werewolf

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Couple, Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2896 words

Summary: You are in a wonderful relationship with your sweet partner, Gray. But this far into the relationship, you’ve yet to tell him you have no intentions ever of having kids. You can’t help but wonder, how will your child-loving werewolf boyfriend will react?

Request: I live for very specific comfort! No pressure if this doesn’t inspire you or if you just don’t want to write it obvi.... but could I have a f!reader x m!werewolf where the reader is 100% sure she doesn’t want to have kids ever never ever in any capacity and is worried about how her werewolf bf is going to react, worried she’ll be dumped or something (ya know cause idk I feel like werewolves are built with a breeding kink and like into the whole having a lot of pups) there can be smut if you want!! I love me some dramatic angst comfort :)))))))

A/N: Sorry this took so long y’all, school and stuff has been kicking my ass. But writing this sweet little fic has been a nice reprieve from my work. Hope you enjoy!

“Alright, I’ll get the chicken, the asparagus, and the pasta. You’ve got the wine and the dessert?”

“Sure thing.”

The two of you nod, Gray stepping away from the grocery cart before you call out to him.

“And not one of those huge tubs of ice cream.”

Gray emits a dramatic whine, pouting.

“But the big one is 25 cents cheaper than those little pints. It’s practically free!”

You furrow your brow and pat him on the shoulder.

“Not if we don’t finish them, they aren’t. Now go.” Gray rolls his eyes, clutching his heart and throwing his head back. You playfully push him, walking away with the grocery cart and towards the deli section. You can see the top of Gray’s wild brown hair as he moves into the next aisle, his 6’5” form towering over all the little old ladies who usually crowd the store.

You’re browsing the chicken, trying to decide between 2 breasts or a full rotisserie, when a familiar sound reaches you.

“Oh! If it isn’t ____.” You forcibly paint a smile, fingers automatically clenched around the stellafoam package as you turn to see your next door neighbor Mrs. Star. Her teased, bleached blonde hair teeters on top of her head, bobbing back and forth with the clack of her neon blue heels. While you can respect the 60-year old for digging her feet in and refusing to update her wardrobe from the 80’s, her pension for gossip is a little less admirable. “Shocked to see you out and about, what with that big ol boyfriend of yours.” She says, blue eyeshadow crinkling into a wink and nudging you with your elbow. You wheeze a bit, quickly covering it with a laugh. “Back in our honeymoon phase, Richard and I barely left the bedroom. And he was half-way balding back then, not the babe-a-rama you got going over there.” Mrs. Star’s laugh reaches a pitch almost too high for your human ears to pick up, maybe even giving Gray 2 aisles over a headache.

“Well, y’know, gotta keep our energy up.” You wince, immediately berating yourself for that comment. Mrs. Star throws her hand up in a “oh, you” gesture, letting out another half-whistle half-screeching chuckle.

“Oh I do, honey, I do.” She sends you another dramatic wink, which you return with a shaky smile. The corner of your cart bumps into hers as you begin walking along the meat aisle, trying to forcibly end this interaction. But Mrs. Star pulls off an impressive turn with her cart and strolls alongside you. She does little to hide her wandering eyes, trying to piece together any juicy info from your groceries. “So, are you two trying for kids yet?”

The wheels squeal to a sudden stop, forcing you to choke on your saliva as the shopping cart’s handle digs into your stomach. You keep your gaze locked on the frozen steaks  and turkeys, already way past the chicken you meant to grab.

“Uhhh, no. We’re not really in the phase of our relationship yet.”

Mrs. Star clicks her tongue, pressing her hand to her chest in a show of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, dearie. Old habits you see, whenever a new couple moves in together I assume they’re halfway to the wedding already. You young kids like to take it slow, huh?”

You nod, hastily grabbing a package of buffalo wings, hoping for an excuse to escape this conversation.

Mrs. Star continues to walk by you, her cart blocking off any convenient means to leave unless you significantly pick up her speed. Her eyes glance over the sweats sat in a display in the center of the aisle, humming a small tune.

The end of the aisle is approaching, you’re almost home free! You ready your feet to book it with an excuse, but Mrs. Star clears her throat and begins to speak.

“Now dearie, I don’t mean to pry-”

What do you call these last 3 minutes, Star?

“But I’d at least pop on a ring on that finger soon. Someday someone’s going to snatch that boy up like a piece of meat, saying all the right things. Men got all those suspicions about over-the-hill pregnancies, his eyes might start wandering. That’s how my first divorce went, so I should know.”

You pull your cart to a stop, breathe catching as you look at Mrs. Star, shocked. You can handle some inappropriate questions, but to question your boyfriend’s loyalty and insulting your relationship is crossing another line. Your brows furrow with a simmering anger, your cheeks heating up as you're ready to let loose.

“Well, Mrs. Star, if you must know I have the most wonderful boyfriend on this side of the planet, and unlike your deadbeat first husband, he’s as loyal as they can be.” Mrs. Star looks at you, eyes widened and right hand halfway to grab a pack of oreos. You huff, pushing your cart away from hers and towards the cash register. Right before you leave her sight, you turn back to her with a simpering smirk. “Have a great day, Mrs. Star!”

Your heart is heaving with anger, prepping a rant to Gray about the horrible interaction you just had. On the other side of the store, you spot Gray, his curly hair all tussled, holding a large Rosé and a package of ice cream sandwiches. Just the sight of his back calms you a bit, excited for some delicious food and late-night cuddles. You jog a little towards him, but slow down when you see him crouch down, looking at something hidden from your sight.

You turn your shopping cart slightly, trying to peer behind his massive form, and freeze.

Gray’s sticking out his tongue, pushing up his nose, and making many more silly gestures to a baby in a stroller. The baby laughs, it’s chubby cheeks bright red as Gray blows another raspberry, thrashing its arms up and down with joy. The dad is laughing at Gray’s antics, leaning down and patting his kid on the head.

Gray promptly stands up, sending another big smile to the kid, before waving goodbye. The six-month-old waves back, uncoordinated and decidedly adorable. Gray laughs, turning away and walking towards you.

Your feet feel cemented to the floor, heart down in your stomach.

He’s a natural, you think, nausea building up in your throat.

Gray was the oldest of eight, not a large number for a werewolf family. You adored them, and they you, but Gray had a way of dealing with his youngest siblings. Whether it was letting them climb all over him like a jungle gym, or attending imaginary tea parties, Gray was a pro. He was the guy to cram himself into a tiny chair at the kids table, eating tiny cookies and cracking jokes. ‘Dad’ seemed to be stamped into his very being, the cuddly werewolf with a love of children. He’s any mother-in-law’s dream.

But all those sweet things turn sour when you think about what Mrs. Star said. Gray, moving on without you.

Gray’s eyes light up when he sees your cart, jogging over and holding up the bottle of wine like a prize.

“Hey!” He says, quickly sliding an arm around your waist and giving you a peck on the cheek. “I got your favorite, and those delicious mint-chocolate sandwiches.”

His happy voice and comforting touch help abate whatever it is your feeling, but the way Gray’s brow furrows tells you your  discomfort is present in your eyes. “Is everything okay?” His large hand comes up and rubs your shoulder. You give him a shaky smile, fighting away negative thoughts with a bat.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

---------

Wet fur presses up against your bare neck as you lazily stir the boiling water, Gray’s shifted muzzle now snug in the crook of your shoulder, the white flecks across his dark fur peeking into your periphery. Your free hand instinctively goes back to scratch between his ears, causing him to let out a satisfied huff, hot air blowing across your chest.

“That smells good baby.”

“It’s just salt and water Gray. The pasta’s barely al dente.”

Gray laughs, turning his head  slightly so he can press a small kiss onto your cheek.

“You could make even that taste delicious, ____”

You dramatically roll your eyes, pushing away his chin as he continues to peck and nip at your neck. After showering Gray always made sure to rub in some cherry-blossom leave-in conditioner into his fur. The artificial perfumes just lightly touch your senses, but the mental connection they have to Gray make them smell that much sweeter. You turn and give him a quick kiss on the lips, patting his shoulder once more.

“Do you mind setting the table? Maybe get started on those messy dishes?”

“No problem.” Gray mumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and tugging up the towel that hangs loose on his hips. He barely needs to reach for your fancy plates on the top shelf, his chest muscles flexing and bicep taut. Even with his thick fur, you can see the bone of his clavicle which accentuates his long neck.

God, he’s so hot.

You think, smirking a bit as you continue stirring.

And all mine.

You hum, but the cheery mood you’re in quickly sours once you remember your conversation with Mrs. Star. That small seed of doubt seems to grow and leech from your chest.

2 years into this relationship and the two of you have only danced around the conversation of the future. You of course had agreed on living together, what your career paths looked like, even the potential of getting married in a couple years, but never kids. As two 20-somethings, you felt like you had all the time in the world.

But the thing was, you didn’t really need all the time in the world.

You didn't want kids. Even with your family or your neighbors needing that your opinion “might change some day,” you were confident in that decision. Not that you hated them, you just could never picture yourself being a mom. A fun aunt, maybe, but never a mom. It wasn’t even a point of contention in your own mind; The picture of you, your partner, and maybe a couple of pets thriving into your elders was bliss enough.

You sneak a glance to Gray, now clothed and back turned to you as he sets the table. He’s diligently folding the napkins into  fun shapes, a ritual he does every date night. From the hole in his jeans you can see his tail wagging, content as he hums to the low radio playing on the window sill.

A smile crawls onto your face, a small giggle escaping you as you watch Gray’s hips bob to the beat, silently mouthing the words. You snort as he does a dramatic little shoulder shift, Gray’s head whipping back towards the kitchen as you throw your hand over your mouth.

“What, don't you like my moves?” Gray says, shimmering his shoulders again, a large grin across his face.

“They could use some work, Kevin Bacon.” Gray clutches his chest, throwing his head back in mock pain.

“You wound me. After all these years, you would cut me so deep?”

“Sure would.” You turn back towards the simmering pasta, setting the wooden spoon on the rim and brushing your hands on your jeans. “Oof!” You squeak as you yanked away, Gray wrapping his arms around your waist, twirling you in a stumbling circle.

“And how ‘bout now, m’lady?” Gray simpers, eyebrow cocked. Your hands slap his chest as you laugh. He lets your feet back down on the floor, but keeps his arms locked around your waist. The two of you slow dance to the beat, and when the chorus hits, Gray gives his worst rendition possible. You bemoan and feign plugging your ears, but find yourself singing along anyway.

Everything about Gray is warm and bright, from his goofy grin to his excitable tail to his two left feet. He adds that pep of energy to your daily routine, pulling you out of an exhausting cycle for a quick jog to the beach or an episode of your favorite drama. Gray fills out all of those little spaces, makes them a little less gray.

Your head rests against his chest, feeling the fur through the fabric of his t-shirt as the two of you sway back and forth.

You want it to stay this way.

But that pestering weed squeezes your heart again, forcing images of Gray with a kid on his shoulders. Showing up to little-league football games with a big cooler and a “#1 dad” T-shirt. All those little moments, all without you.

You can’t fight the deep sigh, pressing your face even deeper into Gray.

Just let me have this. Just this moment, just for now.

-------

“Ugh, I think my stomach is going to explode from excess-pasta.”

Gray huffs, laying his head on your lap as the two of you slump onto the couch. His tail wags lazily, flickering back and forth as his legs swing over the coach's side, his long torso bunched up as he curls into you. The fur of his head is soft as you twist your fingers into it. “But I gotta say, what a way to go out.”

You giggle, losing your thoughts in his soft fur. Gray lets out another deep breath, nuzzling his face into your hand. You brush over his cheek with your  thumb, admiring the cheekbone you feel just underneath.

But that burning question refuses to leave your mind, and you ask it without even thinking.

“Do you want kids, Gray?”

Gray’s eye’s stay closes, his posture relaxed as he sinks into your massaging fingers.

“Hmmm, maybe. Never really thought too much about it. Why?”

Your throat dries up, mind reeling. It wasn’t even a definitive yes, but your heart is still reeling. Your fingers pause and Gray's eyes open. He shifts his head when he sees the look on your face, concerned. “Babe?”

You nod, eyes still wide, trying to fight off the inklings of a panic attack. Gray pushes himself up on his elbows, paw quickly coming to caress your cheek. “Baby, is everything alright?”

You find the energy to breathe, and suck in deeply. Your heart begins to slow down as you look into Gray’s yellow wolf eyes. You dig your cheek into his large palm, smelling the perfume of his conditioner.

“Yes, sorry, I just-” You pause, taking another deep breath. “I ran into Mrs. Star in the grocery store, and-I’m sorry I’m overthinking things.” You mutter, patting yourself  on the cheek as to snap yourself out of your mood. Grays other hand rubs the back of your neck.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here. Did she say something?”

“No-Well, yes. It’s silly, typical Star things. She just brought up how ‘ought to get started having kids, and it just-” You let out a shaky sigh, pulling away Gray’s hand with your own and looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to have kids, ever.”

In Gray’s eyes, you expect to….something. Confusion, disappointment, maybe? But instead, all you see is relief. Gray rests his paw on your thigh, squeezing it.

“_____, is that what you’ve been worrying about?” You nod, throwing your eyes back down, but Gray tilts your chin towards him. “If you don’t want kids, we won’t have kids. Simple as that.”

Your eyes widen and you pull your face back.

“Seriously? But-what if-”

“____, I grew up with eight siblings. I’m going to have to deal with more nieces and nephews then I can count on my fingers and my toes, I think I can handle not having kids.”

A weight lifts off of your chest and you slump forward into Gray, pressing your forehead against his clavicles as you let out a long, relieved sigh. He laughs, patting your back and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this all day, I didn’t even realize you were so upset.”

You slap his chest, letting out another frustrated sigh. With him? No, but yourself, and Mrs. Star, for stirring up nightmares for no damn good reason.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine for being so paranoid.” You press your chin up, pouty lips admiring your boyfriend's face. “I’m sorry for freaking out. She really got me into my own head.”

“No apologies needed baby.” Gray says, giving you a small peck. You send him a cheesy smile, chasing after his lips with a couple of small kisses. A low rumble growls out from his chest as you nip at his jawline. Behind him, you hear his tail begin to hump on the floor.

“Hmm, does that mean you feel better?” You nod, pressing another kiss into his pulse point.

“Yes, thank you for letting me get that out.” Another kiss, now on his Adam’s apple.

“Welp,” Gray says, quickly adjusting himself. In another second, you yelp as he picks you up by your butt, legs quickly wrapping around his waist, “Let’s give Mrs. Star something to talk about, hmm?”

You throw your head back with a laugh, clinging tight to his chest as Gray blows a raspberry into your neck. “That good with you, my lady?”

You nod, giving him another kiss on the lips as he carries you off into the bedroom.

Yeah, you have it good.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

willow

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: violence, harassing

a/n: part two of cardigan, hope you enjoy xx

CARDIGAN - INVISIBLE STRING

     - I’m not going to work wearing this. - Y/N stepped out of her bedroom in the dress Pietro had brought her. When he told her he had a black dress laying around she thought he meant maybe the sort of dress you’d wear for a first date, not what she had on at this moment. The dress was short, very short, barely hitting her mid thigh in a fashion that made her have to push her dress down every time she walked in fear she would be flashing someone yet that wasn’t the worse part, no, the worse par was the décolletage. It was plunging, hitting the end of her sternum leaving little to no imagination about the shape and size of her breasts. 

     - Well hello Y/N’s breasts. - he joked, receiving a slap in the back of his head from his twin sister. - I’m sorry, Y/N. They’re staring at me, I had to say something. 

    -  What kind of dates are you having? - Wanda asked dumbfounded as she started to search for a safety pin to help mend the situation and make it look a bit more work appropriate. Walking up to her, she pinned two sections of the fabric, successfully diminishing the size of the décolletage.  - It looks ... nice.

    - Is he going to kill me if I show up like this to work? - she pointed at the whole ensemble which was very foreign to her. She was cold and uncomfortable and although the bar tended itself to be very warm once the lights were on, she was already plenty uncomfortable working there. The two twins shared a look that she could only described as “I have no idea” which did little to no good in aiding her nerves. With nothing else to do, she grabbed her worn out bag from the hanger and waved her goodbyes to the twins. Surely it couldn’t be that bad. 

It’s just a dress, Y/N. She told herself as she padded the cobblestone grounds that led into the town centre, the dreaded town centre where she was needed to work. At least you have some cute shoes, she reassured herself, looking at her plain black Mary Janes with a buckle which made the shoe extra snug. Adding to the nerves of her dress, she kept convincing herself today she would get some information for her father, even if it was Bucky’s shoe size. It didn’t matter, she was going to get some information and make her father proud.

As she stepped into the bar, she noted the absence of Bobby. Probably it was her due turn to open shop which she wouldn’t mind would it not be for the fact she could barely move in that dress. Nevertheless, she quickly got to work, wiping the surfaces clean and placing the plastic menus on them followed by a few bowls of peanuts which Bobby always told her to keep her eyes on and not let go empty. The whole thing took less than five minutes and as she finished, she leaned against the counter watching the inside of the building. Everything was so meticulously placed, arranged in shades that matched. It was perfectly linear, symmetrical even and probably the work of a perfectionist architecture. It was peaceful when no one was around but that emptiness was soon interrupted by the door being open and in stepped the notorious Mr. Barnes.

Y/N pushed her dress straight, trying not to look professional and somewhat invisible so that he wouldn’t stare her in the eye. That tactic immediately failed as once the door shut behind him and his pristine suit, his head turned to the bar. 

    - What are you doing behind the bar? - his hands stood against his hips, touching the holster where a very shiny revolver laid, a warning sign not to mess with him.

   - I’m opening. 

   - You’re waitressing today. 

   - I’m not a waitress. - he slightly widened his eyes, taking a step forward, grin on his face. He leaned against the counter, finger under his chin. 

   - You are today. 

   - I don’t know how to wait on people. 

   - You don’t know how to bartend them either now step behind that bar and go grab a tray. - he barked the orders at her but Y/N remained still. No, absolutely not, she was not going to wait around in the tightest, shortest dress created by man.

   - I would rather ... I would rather not, sir. - she pulled at the front of her dress, eyes moving from his inspecting and scaring gaze. 

   - I didn’t ask you what you would rather. You have five seconds.

Y/N didn’t like being scolded by anyone, specially by a man like him but the shiny revolver on his hip made her act more sensibly and as such she shyly stepped behind the bar, stopping a few meters away from him. His gaze followed her legs, from her hips to her toes and he himself took a step back. 

   - You could’ve told me you didn’t have a dress. 

   - I have a dress. - she put her hands on her waist, defensively. - What do you think I am wearing?

   - I was hoping you would tell me. 

   - Can I just bartend today, Mr. Barnes? Please.

   - Absolutely not. 

She wanted to argue with him, she really did, she thought she could change his mind but yet again she wasn’t stupid enough to argue with him and as such, she walked slowly to the back of the bar to grab one of the sticky metal trays. Fantastic, she went from having a counter separating her from everyone to suddenly being in the middle of them. The lights were on, the music was loud and suddenly every table was putting their hands up for her to come take their orders. 

Now Y/N had done several things she wasn’t a fan of and seen even more than stomach churning evidence from her time at university but walking back and forward in the damned was officially the worse thing to have come out of her early 20s and as she leaned against the bar to cool off and take a break, someone was yelling her name for more drinks. She had officially become “Hey you” rather than Y/N. Mid shift she had decided to start hiding away from most tables, getting lost in the middle of the crowd dancing which was proving to be effective until the table she could not ignore raised their hands. James Barnes’ table. Why he was in a table surrounded by other men when he usually stood safely in his back office she didn’t know but what she did know was that whatever they were talking about was surely something her father would like to know. So, with a smile in her very tired face, she made her way towards the table. 

James Barnes sat with two other men who were equally as intimidating than he was yet there was no question as to who held the most power. Holding the tray on her left hand she waited to be shouted the orders through the music. 

   - Hey, you’re new! - the blonde man sat to James’ left pointed at her, smile on his face which immediately dissolved whatever sort of intimidating nature used to decorate his features. - I didn’t know we had a new waitress. 

   - We don’t. - James corrected, not even turning to look at her. - Y/N is on the floor tonight to cover for someone. She’s usually a lousy bartender. 

   - Can I get a beer? The coldest one you can find, please. - the other man sat next to James asked, charming smile on. - Steve will have the same. James ...

   - Glenlivet, I know. - Y/N interjected, forgetting for a second of who she was dealing with. As she remembered, she immediately walked away from the table to go grab the orders before they took her hostage. 

   - Two cold beers and a Glenlivet on the rocks please Bobby. 

   - The floor’s giving you a rough time, kid? - he placed two beers on her tray and turned around to grab the precious 1862 Glenlivet only Mr. Barnes was allowed to drink for. In Y/N’s opinion, it was a weird drink older than both her and him together yet she guessed owning old scotch made him somehow powerful. 

   - Dress’ giving me a rough time. - she gave him an exasperated smile before taking her tray back to the table, placing it into the centre. James still didn’t meet her eye, instead grabbing the coloured liquid and downing it as if it was water in a manner which even surprised the two men accompanying him. - Can I get you anything else? 

  - No, thank you. - Steve, or at least she guessed was his name, replied handing her a folded black leathered cover. Y/N took it, not ready to make any questions before returning to the bar. Once there, she opened the cover to reveal at least 300 pounds. Did they want more drinks? Did she mishear the song again as a drink order?

  - Nice tip, kid. - Bobby peaked at the money she was holding. - Rogers and Wilson always tip well.

  - This is a tip? I get to keep this? - she looked dumfounded at the money on her hand which was enough to pay her half the rent and she had just made in less than a minute.

  - All waitresses get to keep their tips. Did you not know?

  - No, I thought people wanted more drinks.

  - You’re adorable, kid. If you don’t tip your waitress here, you get kicked out. Barnes doesn’t like cheapskates in his club, ruins the image. 

  - Oh ... I ... can you keep it while I finish my job?

  - Just put it with your things.

She placed the money safely with her bag and returned to the dance floor. Surely they were gonna ask her for something, no one just gave 300 pounds as if it were nothing and didn’t expect something. Nothing is free in life, her father had told her and she whole heartily believed him yet there were 300 pounds more to her name in less than one minute so she wondered if maybe some things were for free. Nevertheless, Y/N continued with her shift plan by hiding in the middle on the dance floor and every so often peaking out to serve some tables. As she exited the dance floor, someone pulled her in and she hit what she thought was someone’s chest, hands holding her hip in place.

   - Get off me. - she tried to walk forward, but she was pulled back once more. Turning around she grabbed her tray with both hands and hit whoever was holding her and trying to grind on her over the head. The man blinked slowly, hand resting on his head and she repeated her motions. - I said take your hand off me, RIGHT NOW!

  - Hey, what’s wrong here? - of course. The man must have hidden mics arounds the dance floor so he can sense when someone isn’t adhering to their strict patterns of conduct. 

  - He was grinding on me. - Y/N kicked her way fully of the man’s embrace. She thought it’d be best to put her defence forward first before she got to be the second person to have their head smashed against the counter. 

   - I don’t have the time for this. Steve, get him off here. - he motioned to the blonde who came up from behind. She hanged onto her tray as if it were her life source, expecting whatever punishment was coming her way. - And you go back to the bar and stay there. 

Y/N wanted to feel sorry for the poor soul who was being pulled out of the club for Steve yet all she could feel was grateful for the fact she no longer had to stay on the floor. The rest of the night was uneventful, all she could hear them talk about was some exchange yet nothing else of importance to her, or something which would create a breakthrough in the case. Soon the monotonous voice came through the speakers, warning people of the imminent end of the night. 

Everyday was the same thing. She would go into the club, collect whatever breadcrumb information she could get from her father and return them to the police. Everyday she would come in, prepare the same drinks, ignore the same comments and for a month all she could get was nothing but the fact that Barnes, Wilson and Rogers constantly spoke about a trade taking place later on the year which as good as nothing but it was something strong enough to keep her undercover. Today was no different, she had come in a few hours early, it was only a mid shift and she wanted to set things the way she liked when Mr. Barnes came stumbling into the bar, holding his hand against his forehead, red liquid running down his pale hand. 

  - Where the fuck is Bobby? - he barked, pulling a chair with his foot to sit down. 

  - He’s on holiday. - she spoke calmly but her heart was beating against her ribcage like a drum as her shaking hands grabbed the first aid kit from under the bar and rushed over to him. Whoever had the guts to cause a wound to the mob boss would surely be okay with following him in and that was all she could think about. Nevertheless, she was a nurse in training, she should be calm. She wasn’t calm. - Can I see?

  - Don’t you have something to do?

  - Let me help, please. - her touch was soft, softer than any touch he’d ever felt as her hand laid upon his, slightly yet effortlessly pushing his hand away from the gash close to his hairline. Her lips tightened as her finger pushed some of the hair away from the wound, it wasn’t bad. It was deep but not deep enough it would require any immediate stitching, some cleaning and maybe butterfly band-aids and he’d be able to go back to intimidating people. - I’m going to clean it and then I’ll bandage the wound. It might sting, please don’t shoot me if it does.

  - Is that what you think I do? - he furrowed his eyebrow, forgetting about the wound just above it as she rummaged through their first aid kit for something that would suffice in disinfecting his wound as she was sure health, safety and cleaning procedures weren’t something a mobster would consider when picking their weapon of choice. - You think I shot people just because they hurt me?

  - That’s what I’ve heard. - she shrugged it off as if they were having a casual conversation, as if he had asked her if she enjoyed the weather. She heard rumours, several of them coming from Wanda, Pietro and other people she surrounded herself with and while she would’ve discredited them in any other situation, she had her father’s confirmation that one does not mess with James Barnes and comes back whole. - Big bad mob boss … it’s what they show in mobster books and movies.

  - Trust me petal, if I hurt someone they’ve had it coming. - he leaned upon his own shoulder inspecting her. - Besides, I don’t do the dirty work.

  - Enlighten me, then. - she loosened up. Make the patient comfortable was always rule number one as her lecturers and superiors would tell her and although the man in front of her was the furthest thing from someone who’d become comfortable with someone, what she was doing would eventually sting and she’d rather have him happy than upset. James grabbed the salt and pepper sets laying on top of the table, pulling the salt to lay in front of every other container.

  - In your regular mob you have an hierarchy. - he moved the salt and pepper around in almost chess-like manner. - You have your boss, your underboss, capo, consigliere and soldiers. Soldiers do the dirty work, they do the shooting.

  - What do you do then? - she cocked an eyebrow at him, drenching the cotton round in the alcohol filled liquid which always made her feel slightly sick.

  - I’m the boss, petal. Your question should be what the other’s do.

  - Okay, I bite. - she got closer to him, hand resting on the side of his face as she started to dab the dried and wet blood away from his wound.  - What do the others do?

  - The underboss is … I guess what you could call a vice-president. They make decisions but ultimately answer to me, not that Steve listens to me anyway. Your consigliere is impartial, he comes in whenever you need an impartial decision either between capos or families. Your capos are the heads of their own families and have their sort of hierarchy, they are the lieutenants and can be or not be related to the boss and finally you got your soldiers, they do the dirty work. Although, I must say that sometimes I do enjoy applying the punishment.

  - So Steve’s your underboss… - she continued to clean the wound, waiting for the moment he would hiss and throw her away but he remained still, comfortable even. - Is Sam one of your soldiers?

  - Sam’s a consigliere and a damned good one although he is a pain. - she went back to her sit, putting the cotton round in the bin and grabbing some bandaids. - But I know about it, why don’t you tell me about you?

  - Bobby said you run a background check on everyone. I don’t think I would be much surprising. - much of her profile was real yes, but most important details have been altered so he wouldn’t suspect her or wonder why the Capitan’s daughter was applying for a position in his bar.

  - What do you fear most in life?

  - Why would you ask me that?

  - If you know people’s fears, you’re normally in control of them. Fear controls everyone, if you control their fears, you control them.

  - Do you wanna control me, Mr. Barnes? Is that it? - she had a little smile gracing her features as she bandaged both sides of the wound together.

James wondered what she was smiling about. People like to believe they’re uncontrollable or if they’re controllable that only themselves hold that people yet Y/N just seemed to mindlessly agree with that control, something which her actions forcibly went against. Nevertheless, she still had this peaceful smile on as she finished patching him up. 

   - You’re all ready. 

   - Thanks. - his voice rumbled in a tone low enough it could be considered both menacing and thankful at the same time. Nevertheless, this was probably the first time she had heard him say thanks to anyone. - What are you doing here anyway? Phoenix covers over Bobby’s shifts when he’s on holiday and you don’t start in five hours at least.

    - Oh ... my flatmate is going on a date with this guy and she wants to bring him home so I have to finish early to check into the motel near campus. They said they only check in people until midnight. I asked Phoenix and he said it was okay.

   - What motel near campus? The Love Locket?

   - Yes, it’s close to university and I have class at 8AM so I can’t go anywhere further. 

   - That’s where you take your prostitute or mistress not where you spend a night.

    - Thank you for the warning, I guess? - she shrugged. Of course she knew that, she would even hear some of the younger students bolster about how they brought their one night stands there but if it made Wanda happy, Y/N would sleep on the street if necessary.

   - You’re not staying at the Love Locket, Y/N. You’ll get robbed or kidnapped.

   - I don’t have anything precious or valuable enough to get stolen and if someone kidnapped me they would soon get bored of me. I’ve been called the human equivalent of vanilla ice cream before. 

   - You’re not staying there, that’s final. I’m not in the mood to hire another lousy bartender if you go missing.

   - Where do you suggest I stay then? - she packed the supplies onto the small blue box, walking up to behind bar to put it back. 

  - Don’t you have any other friends?

  - Her twin brother is keen on having company every night too and I wouldn’t want to be asked to join it or even listen to it.

  - You can stay with me tonight. Next time have arrangements done.

  - I’m not staying with you.

She didn’t mean for it to sound ungrateful, she would never want to be ungrateful but she also knew not to go into the house of strangers although her father would probably tell her too. How funny, normally a father would do the opposite but being in the mob boss’ house had their own perks. Surely he would keep some sort of valuables, information maybe contact numbers of bottom feeders who’d be willing to collaborate for a chance to put their boss behind bars and gain his spot. Anything. Yet Y/N’s most forceful and convincing side was telling her no. It wasn’t she was particular untrusting of him, after all he had been nothing but civil with her for the past days and would always drive her home. She guessed if he wanted to kill her, he would’ve done it already but every single day her heart weighed heavy with the thought of him discovering her lie and putting an end to her life.

  - I might not know what you fear the most, but I do know what you fear. 

He strolled from the table to the counter, hands buried in the pockets of his tailored trousers. Y/N looked at him through her eyelashes, hands behind her own back as he took the revolver off his holster and placed it on the counter.

  - You are really afraid I’m going to kill you. Aren’t you, petal?

  - It’s not an absurd fear, Mr. Barnes. 

  - Have you ever seen me kill someone?

  - No.

  - Have I ever threatened you?

  - No.

  - Have I put you in danger?

  - No.

  - Then it is an absurd fear, petal. - he slide his gun off the counter, returning it to its usual place near his hip. - Come find me after you’re done with your shift. Don’t cause any trouble.

  - Yes, Mr. Barnes. - she had soon learned there was no use in saying no to him. He got his way all the time, he was used to getting his way so she wondered why she even contested him. 

The shift was the same as per usual yet all she could think about what spending the night at a mob boss’ house. She had messaged her father during her break and he was ecstatic, telling her to take photos and videos and collect whatever she could find of use. In all honesty, Y/N had expected him to tell her to be safe but instead it was just a lead. She was scared, she was so scared that all of this was a veil of comfort he was casting over her to make sure she was a dumb little sheep walking into his trap. She begged for the clock to turn back as it hit 11PM and Phoenix told her it was okay to go. 

She held her purse against her chest, pulling onto the leather strap as she moved through the dance floor and into the VIP area where Mr. Barnes was chatting with Steve who smiled once he saw her.

  - Hey Y/N. Waiting on us tonight?

  - No ... I’m just here for Mr. Barnes. - she played with the hem of her bag, cheeks hot as she thought of the implications her word might have.

  - Is your shift over already? - he placed his half empty glass on the table and got up, hand holding his jacket. She nodded hesitantly, she was going to be fine, she was going to be fine. - Alright, then.

  - Well, it was nice to see you, Y/N. We’ll speak about this later, Buck. 

  - Let’s go. - he put his hand on her back, driving her through the sea of people kissing, dancing and drinking. He wondered if that what she liked to do on her free time, if she was like the girls who came up here on the weekends and Fridays looking for a good time yet she seemed to shut everything out. 

As they got deeper into the back of the club, she felt him drape something soft and warm over her. Looking to her left she recognised the fabric of her old cardigan, the one she had left in the same car she was now entering. The driver was mostly silent, Y/N mostly looking for the comfort given to her by the old garment while he kept his wild eyes on the road. 

The drive was a short one, stopping at a high building of thirteen floors if the elevator was to be believed. Despite being surrounded by luxury, her eyes were gazing the gun to his hip. She knew he had other weapons, she knew he kept a knife hidden and other guns with him but this one seemed to taunt her, as if she knew she was walking into her own trap.

    - Stop. - he hooked his finger under her chin, pushing her face upwards. - I don’t stain my home with blood. 

    - I’m sorry.

    - Stop that too. 

    - Stop what?

    - Apologising. You walk as if you’re apologising to the world for your existence. No one’s gonna take you seriously if you don’t take yourself seriously. 

    - It’s funny a man is asking me to stop apologising when it’s your own institution who taught me and my gender to apologise for merely existing. 

    - You have an edge to you. You should use more often. 

    - I don’t have an edge, I’m definitely not the type of person you think I am.

    - You’re definitely the type of person I think you are, petal. - he strutted into his home as the lift door’s open.

It was wide, spacious, modern, in shades of white and grey. Nothing like the stuffy, old rooms she saw in movies or the drug den picture he father painted when speaking about the mob’s place of living. No, this was a modern design, with glass hardware and marbled surfaces which belonged in a cover of a design magazine. It was pristinely clean; after all, a man of his calibre could possibly hire a maid for whenever he needed to get rid of blood but blood stains and his white carpets and blankets were spotless. She wondered if she should trust his words but that thought escaped her mind as she noticed the glass set of chess laying perfectly arranged on the coffee table in the middle of two black couches. 

   - You play? - he asked, noticing her gaze on the board. 

   - My dad only had a chess board while I was growing up. I’d like to think it was my first friend. 

   - None of my associates play. Probably the reason why they’re associates and not the boss. - he sat in one of the couches, pointing at the other one for her to sit in. 

   - Do you chose a boss by their ability at playing chess?

   - Play with me. - he placed both elbows on the table, hands folded under his chin. 

James Barnes was a brilliant player, she had to admit and he too knew it himself. The previous boss had taught him the game, sitting him down and making him win a match against him for the chance to eventually win his spot whenever his demise came.

   - You see petal, everyone thinks chess is about planning ahead. - he took another one of her white pieces, putting it on his side. - I don’t discount that, but it’s really about intimidation. You can be the best player in the world, at the end of the day if you can’t intimidate someone, you’re not gonna win.

   - Do you think I’m intimidating?

   - Why do you ask?

   - Because ... - she moved her king placing it to the right and down of her white queen, successfully trapping the black king. - Checkmate

I'm begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically @buckybarnes1982 @mela-noche @lowercasegenius @randomweirdooo @projectcampbell​ 

[bokutosbubblebutt]

A little help

from us students

- Since Sensei Y/N joined team 7, the three students noticed that their usual teacher behaved a bit weird, weirder than normal! So they assumed that Kakashi had a little crush on their new teammate and they tried everything to help him out

Pairing: Kakashi x fem!reader

Words: 2540

Genre: fluff, a bit 16+

- a/n: This was fr so much fun to write and I‘m honestly really proud if it lmao

—————————————

„Okay, guys! We need to talk!“ Sakura sat down next to Naruto and Sasuke. The three we’re eating ramen together after their training session with Sensei Kakashi and Sensei Y/N.

„I was watching him now for a really long time and I came to the conclusion that Sensei Kakashi has a crush on Sensei Y/N!“ she said and ordered some ramen with pork.

„Hu? What do you mean, Sakura?“ Naruto asked confused and raised one of his eyebrows. Even Sasuke turned his head and started to think about it.

„Haven’t you noticed? He’s been acting really weird the last few weeks since she joined us. Well, weirder than usual.“ - „I noticed that he doesn’t read his book when she’s with us.“ - „Yeah, and when we have training with her, he’s always on time, sometimes even earlier.“ - „And when we had this fight with the rain Ninjas, he had a nose bleed after that even though he didn’t got hit.“

„But when I think about it, Y/N likes him too, in my opinion.“ Naruto said and put his chopsticks down. „She’s always with him! Since she joined us, you barely see them alone.“

„They even do personal training with each other, although they are both extremely strong!“ - „And she’s always laughing at his jokes!“

„I remember Sensei Guy eyeing them and he made some weird facial expressions towards Kakashi when we met him.“ Sasuke laughed and drank the left over soup.

„Thats it! It’s obviously that they like each other! Everyone notices that but not themselves.“

„We could help them out a little bit? I think they are pretty cute together and Sensei Kakashi just needs a girlfriend. Maybe he will stop reading these weird books!“ Sakura suggested and looked at her teammates. They all agreed on doing that and started to make some plans on how to get them together.

-Plan 1-

It was a casual trainings day and everyone did their own personal exercises. Sensei Kakashi and you were watching over the three, gave them tips and helped them out. Everything was normal and you all minded your own business.

Naruto was standing on a tree he just walked up with chakra in his feet. „Y/N! Look I made it!“ he screamed over to you and you just threw a thumbs up at him.

„Good Job! Now try to walk down again!“

That was the signal for the first plan they came up with. Now it’s was Narutos job to bring you up on the tree. „Uhm, Y/N Sensei! Can you please help me a bit? I‘m scared that I fall.“ he screamed down to you and tried to make a nervous face.

„I think you should try it on your own Naruto! I believe in you!“ - „But I‘m scared that I fall on my face! You probably don’t want me to get into the hospital, do you?“

Annoyed you rolled your eyes and walked up on that tree to the student. He simply thanked you and then made his first step downwards. „See? You can do it! You have nothing to worry about.“

Naruto casually walked down the tree and looked over to Sakura and Sasuke. The girl was training to put a certain amount of chacra in her Kunias with which she simply can hurt her enemies and paralyze them, a special technique she wanted to learn from Sensei Y/N.

You were about to walk the tree down as well right after Naruto. Kakashi was sitting on the ground and watching you doing this simple task.

Sakura was about to throw one of the chacra knives at a dummy but suddenly Sasuke screamed her name. Of course, this was all planed and the little girl stopped paying attention to where she was throwing the knife and looked over to her teammate. Sakura threw the kunai ”accidentally“ in your direction and managed to hit both of your ankles.

Since this technique caused paralyzed body parts and prevented the chacra flow in some certain areas, both of your feet turned numb and you weren’t able to concentrate chacra to walk down the tree. Slowly your feet started to slide and you fell. With a scream you expected to hit the hard ground and break your bones but this didn’t happen.

You fell into two strong arms which catched you bridal style in the right moment. Immediately your cheeks turned bright red and you tried to avoid eye contact with Kakashi, who catched you. He just stood there and smiled slightly. „Th-,Thank you.“ you stuttered and covered your eyes with your arm.

Kakashi looked down at you and scanned your facial features. Once again he noticed how pretty and cute you were. Slowly he sat you down to check your ankles.

„Oh my god! I‘m so sorry, Sensei Y/N! I‘m so sorry, it’s all my fault!“ Sakura tried to make it look like an accident and apologized immediately. Sasuke and Naruto gave each other a secret high five and then walked up to their teachers with a faked concerned look.

„Dont worry! At least you got it right. It’s wasn’t a big amount of chacra anyways.“ you said and tried to brush it off.

„Next time you better pay attention to where are you throwing your kunai!“ Kakashi warned her and then slightly touched the cut on your feet. The bandage, which was tied around your ankles, was covered in blood and a slight cut was visible. „Does it hurt? Can you move them?“ he asked and put one of his hands on your thigh.

„I can’t feel anything in them, they are numb.“ you answered and massaged the bridge of your nose.

„Kakashi, I think you have to carry her to the hospital when she can’t walk!“ - „Yeah, I guess I have to do that!“ Both of you just looked at each other and blushed. Carefully he placed one arm under your knees and the other on your back. His left hand rested on your hip and pulled you close.

They probably would never admit it but they secretly liked it how close they were to each other. The physical contact wasn’t uncomfortable, more like the opposite and they enyojed each others touch.

-Plan 2-

A week later your ankles were completely healed and you could move them normally again. Now it was time for their second plan, which was well, less painful.

The friends noticed that Kakashi visited you almost every day and brought you flowers. When you got released it was time for the second part.

You five were walking trough the village and talked to each other. „Uhm, Sensei Y/N! We wanted to invite you for dinner as an apologize and we will pay, together.“ Sakura said shyly and hit Naruto slightly in the side. He just nodded and agreed to what she said.

„You don’t have to. It’s okay“ you simply answered and smiled. „We won’t take a no! And we are already here.“ Sasuke threw in and walked towards the restaurant.

It was their favorite ramen noodle shop and Sasuke hold up the sheet for the others. „Hmm, when we are already here.“

Quickly the three picked their seats and made a gap for their senseis so they had to sit next to each other. Normally you sat down and put your hands on the table.

The nice lady took your order and then they started to make your food. As always you ordered ramen with lots of veggies and your favorite drink.

„Do you know what our next mission is going to be? Hopefully something cool, I wanna see Sensei Y/N fighting again!“ Naruto laughed and looked over to Kakashi. Naruto sat besides you and Sasuke sat next to Kakashi.

„Yeah, she is really good, right Kaksahi? The way she does her genjutsu is amazing.“ Sakura mentioned and smiled at their Senseis.

„Hu? Uhm, yeah! I-, I also think your fighting skill is pretty good. It’s, uhm, nice to watch you.“ Kakashi stuttered and tried to hide that he was blushing.

Finally the soup was ready to eat and you all started seating silently. Suddenly Naruto reached over to Sasuke with the intention to get a towel to clean his face.

Accidentally he managed to push against your arm and make you spill your drink all over yourself. Now your shirt and pants were soaking wet and it felt disgusting.

„Oh my god! I‘m sorry Sensei Y/N! I‘m so sorry!“ he started to apologize and looked shocked at you. Sasuke and Sakura gave each other a little high five and just giggled a bit.

Annoyed you looked at your student and then at your wet disgusting clothes. „It’s okay, just be careful next time!“ You tried to brush it off.

Kakashi asked the nice Lady for a towel and she gave it to him. „Wait, let me help you.“ he said and started to gently pet the towel on your wet clothes to dry them a bit.

Carefully he pat it on your torso and on your boobs. You didn’t even realized it at first what he did because you just thanked him for helping you but after a while you noticed the gentle touches. Your face turned bright red and you tried to cover it with your hands. „Th-, thank you!“ you stuttered and looked away. „This is so embarrassing.“

„I can give you my jacket!“ he offered and immediately took it off, although you haven’t answered yet. Now he just sat there with a tshirt and his mask. Slightly he threw it over you and closed it for you. Again you thanked him quietly and smiled.

His jacket smelled good. It smelled like him. Not what you expected, even better what you expected. He smelt like the forest after a rainy day and a hint of wet dog. Maybe he had washed his dogs while wearing it.

-Plan 3-

Your team planned instead of training to do a day off and just hang out and spend some time together. And the tree students had the idea to relax a bit and go to the public bath together.

„You are really exited, aren’t you?“ you giggled because the three rushed immediately into the building. Together you and Kakashi paid for their bath and said „see you later“ to each other since the bathes were separated into men and women sections.

While humming a little melody, you took off your clothes and wrapped a towel around your body. After that you went outside and made your way to the hot bath. You didnt even look in which part you went because you knew the women bath was right and the men bath was left. Suddenly Sasuke stopped you.

This was their third plan.

„Uhm, Y/N Sensei, this is the men bath you are walking in!“ he said and pointed towards the sign. A little figure which looks like a boy was on it. „I think they changed it, I almost walked into the girls bath.“

„Oh! Thank you, Sasuke.“ you smiled and looked at the sign again. Weird, you thought but went through the other door.

Little did you know that they changed the signs before you could walk in. Kakashi went into the right bath and then they changed it. Exited the looked trough a little hole to see what happens.

„If this doesn’t work, than they are both too stupid. A better plan doesn’t exist“ naruto laughed.

Unbothered you walked into the bath, dropped your towel halfway through and threw it over a stone. Slowly you walked into the water and let your body react to the hot steamy atmosphere around you. The hot water hugged your body and relaxed you sat down and finally closed your eyes.

After a while you opened them again and looked around. Where is Sakura?

Quietly you heard a embarrassed male voice which cleared his throat. „Uhm, Y/N, I think you are in the wrong bath room.“ he said calmly and slightly smiled at you amused.

„Oh, fuck! Kakashi!“ you screamed and pulled your legs closer to hide your body. Why does this always happen to you?

„Don’t worry, I haven’t seen anything.“ he said and tried to avoid eye contact with you. His hair was down and he didn’t wear his mask. That was probably the first time you saw his full face and, and he was beautiful and hot. You have fantasized about how he looks several times and this just topped your expectations. He was really attractive.

„But, but even Sasuke told me that I have to go in here.“ you whined and tried to hide your bright red face in your knees. This was so embarrassing!

„Dont worry, it’s not like that I don’t know how a female body looks.“ he giggled and slowly swum into your direction. With distance he placed himself next to you and quickly scanned your body.

You were beautiful in his opinion. Your skin looked so soft and the little rolls your stomach formed, were adorable. The wet hair and your blushed skin caused him to not taking his eyes from you.

„You don’t have to hide your body.“ he calmly said and grabbed your chin to make you look into his face. „I-, I think you are really pretty, Y/N. And I’ve liked you since the first day you joined us.“

„You, you really do?“ you asked and looked into his blushed face. Slightly he nodded and then started to pull your face closer to his.

Finally it’s happening.

At first he gave you a gentle kiss, just a little one to make sure you were into it. After that he smiled and pulled you closer again. This kiss was way more exiting and got heated pretty quickly. Slowly he placed his hand on your waist right under your boobs.

After a minute you pulled away and you smiled but immediately started to laugh at him. „Kakashi, you got a nose bleed!“ - „Oh shit! It’s quite a long time ago since I kissed someone.“ he giggled and tried to make it stop.

~Time skip~

After you two spent sometime together in the bath and talked about the last few things that happened you went outside to face your students.

„Okay! First of all, that was evil and very inappropriate! We are really disappointed and you three will get cleaning duty!“ Kakashi said and looked down at his students.

„We‘ve noticed that you three were acting really weird in the last few weeks and now you have to tell us. Of course it wasn’t an accident that Naruto pushed me and Sakura "accidentally" threw her knives at me! Explain!“ you wanted to know angrily and crossed your arms in from if your chest.

The three looked at each other and then finally they explained everything to you. „We noticed that Kakashi might has a crush on you Y/N Sensei! And, and we know that he is, well, a bit stupid when it comes to girls and love in general.“ Sakura started to tell the story. „And so we decided to help you a bit with that and made these plans.“

„And we guess it worked out, right?“ Naruto smirked.

Masterlist

[steamgoat]

I have a lot of trouble with pants as well. ): For context I am someone who generally shops in the women’s sections, and currently a shape where I have boobs and a belly but no ass and thinner legs. This is more just sympathizing with the frustration of pants in general rather than any useful tips haha…

I usually wear yoga pants that I can pull up high enough to reach the smaller part of my stomach/abdomen area but also have a problem with them slipping down constantly and my underwear sliding down inside the pants. Can’t really wear a belt with those either. I can’t wear regular jeans anymore bc they’re so uncomfortable and hurt when I sit, especially if I wear a belt with them. I have one pair of maternity jeans that kinda is helpful bc it looks like jeans up until the belly area and then is a stretchier fabric with an elastic band that reaches about up to my boobs, tho that still slips a little. And the problem with both of these pants (and most others if you shop in the “women’s” section is there are either no pockets or the pockets aren’t big enough for much of anything. But I imagine if they did have usable pockets I would have more of a problem with them slipping down for sure.

I also can’t stand any seam or hard thing touching my belly button and so many times pants I try on want to end up with the button/zipper or seam in that area. ):

I haven’t looked in men’s sections much but when I have I tend to have a similar problem with seam and waistline placement and there are a lot less stretchy options that go over the belly the way I’m more comfortable with. Plus the crotch is way lower usually so my thigh chafing happens more. ><

I also hate pants that look skinny at the end so I have to find things that are like, flared or bootcut type, which seem to be coming back in style a little bit now but for a long time I could find nothing but skinny or straight leg pants.

My current favorite pants are wearing thin in the important areas tho, like crotch, and I usually look for clothes almost exclusively at thrift stores and clearance racks, so it can be even more hard to find a size that fits right.

Overall pants shopping is an absolute nightmare, yeah. ):

I still dont understand how to comfortably wear pants when my stomach is wider than my hips/where midrise pants typically fall. Jeans that aren't uncomfortably tight either fall down while I walk, or somehow pull my underwear down off my ass while the pants stay in the same place. Any belt or waist sturdy enough to hold pants up while im walking make everything DEEPLY uncomfortable whenever I sit. Being upright is just constantly in a cycle of hiking my pants up to my belly button and then they slowly slide down over the next 30 minutes. Is there a fucking trick to this??? Am i just buying the wrong pants???

[babbushka]

Paradise Inn

(this is entirely @autumnlovesadam​‘s fault)

Flip Zimmerman x Reader x Kylo Ren 

In a small town just outside of Colorado Springs, there's a motel called Paradise Inn. The rooms are cheap, the furniture leaves much to be desired, the walls are thin -- but it's your favorite place to have filthy, raunchy, seedy sex with two favorite boys, Flip and Kylo.

And there's a vacancy.

5k; NSFW (threesome MMF, double penetration PIV, dom!Flip, service top!Kylo, lactation kink/breastfeeding, semi-public sex, derogatory name calling/dirty talk, multiple positions & orgasms, marathon sex) 

Available on AO3!

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

The engine quiets next to a big black motorcycle outside the shop, the familiar store-front bringing a smile to your lips. Flip turns the motorcycle off, and your arms relax around his middle, no longer concerned with falling off. It’s new, the bike, a surprise present you and Kylo worked on together. He builds them, these custom motorcycles, and he does a damn good job.

You’re excited to see him, Kylo. It’s been a couple days since you were able to get together, and even longer since you got to do what you were about to go ask.

“Be back in two shakes.” You kiss Flip’s cheek, and he smiles at you, gives your ass a light pat as you hop off the back of the motorcycle and head into the shop.

You catch your reflection in the mirror, black leather halter top and dark wash jeans. Flip’s Sherpa coat protects your arms, but you let it slip off your shoulders, wanting to catch Kylo’s attention.  

He’s there right in the front, looking up as the little bell dings for a new customer. You’re not any ol’ customer though, you’re special, you’re always special. Kylo excuses himself to the man he was talking to, and opens his arms for you.

“Kylo!” You let yourself get scooped up by this hulking man. His tattoos are on full display as they wind around you and hold you tight. You kiss him sweetly on the mouth, no tongue, not yet.

“Long time no see, sweets.” He huffs against your mouth with mock-offense, making you roll your eyes and pull away from him playfully. He throws up a hand in a wave to Flip who waves back, smoking his cigarette outside.

“You came over for dinner Friday night.” You point out.

“It’s Thursday.” Kylo counters, and you grin.

That grin, he knows that grin. He knows it, knows what it means. Trouble, that’s what. Trouble in the best of ways. His dick is already twitching in his jeans, he’s already getting hard for you, for what he knows is coming.

You back him up against the cashier counter, your hand hidden between your bodies as your palm rubs up and down the crotch of his jeans, feeling just how hard he is.

It makes your mouth water, so you grin.

“Let me make it up to you?” You whisper in his ear, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. You can feel it, when your other hand reaches up to cradle the back of his skull, his long black hair silky and soft through your fingertips.

“Hm?” He’s already lost in your touch, your smell, he shudders as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp.

“We got a babysitter; Flip and I are going to…go for a ride.” You look at him, really look at him, nearly going cross-eyed from it, from trying to convey the true meaning of your words when you ask him, “Join us? Please?”

“Is – are you good for – you know – ” Kylo asks nervously, making you bite your lips with excitement.

“It’s been long enough and the doc cleared me, I’m good for it.” You reassure him. He sighs with relief, always careful with you, never wanting to hurt you. It had been nearly three months since giving birth to your daughter, and you were ready to get back into bed. “We missed you. I missed you.”

Your stomach does flips when he licks across his teeth and replies, “Let me get my jacket.”

You walk out of the shop together, and Flip pinches his cigarette to put it out when you get close enough. You cup Flip’s cheeks in your hands and kiss him deeply, tasting the Camel on his teeth, inhaling the sigh he gives you.

“Hey Flip.” Kylo says, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Thanks for coming.” Flip accepts it heartily, gives him the closest thing to a smile Flip ever gives anyone other than you.

“Always,” He shrugs, before reaching out and caressing the side of your face, “Who could ever say no to her?”

“Who would want to?” Flip agrees, and this time, Kylo is the one who almost smiles.

Your heart soars, watching your two favorite boys be good with one another.

“I’m riding with you the way there, and Flip the way back.” You tell Kylo, and he nods, one leg over his black hog and turning her on. You’re quick to follow, snuggling yourself against his back.

“Where to?” He asks Flip, because Flip’s the one who gives the orders when it’s the three of you.

“The usual place, but the diner first. I’m starving.” Flip replies easily.

With that, you all put on your helmets and the engines roar back to life, loud and nasty on the street as Kylo and Flip pull onto the open stretch of road ahead.

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

Sunset in the mountains is gorgeous, you can’t help but think. Kylo and Flip cruise at a steady pace, and you nestle your head against Kylo’s back, watching the world move past. The Rockies are have exploded into a beautiful purple landscape, the sky a tie-dyed vision of lavenders magentas and fuchsia. Kylo focuses on the winding path ahead, and you focus on the feeling of the hot leather seat between your legs, how the vibrations make your clit throb.

You’re glad it’s not a far way to the next town over, you’re glad, you don’t know if you’d be able to wait too much longer.

Speak of the devil, you think, as the streetlamps of the sleepy little town come into view. The anticipation thrills you, as the tires eat the road away, the little neon sign of the diner grows larger and larger, until Kylo and Flip are pulling up into the parking lot.

Flip immediately moves to you, winds his arm around your middle and tugs you close to his side. He and Kylo look like twins almost, which you think is funny because Kylo does have twin brothers, and Flip certainly isn’t one of them.

Still, the hostess eyes them up and down, their dark hair, their strong intimidating statures, the way they’re both dressed in dark jeans and leather jackets…and you, in the middle of them, standing and waiting for a table.

“Smoking section, please.” Flip mutters, not one for wasting time.

She doesn’t say anything, just nods once and grabs a couple of menus. Not like you need them, you’ve come here one time too many, you know what you order, what you like. The waitress knows, she recognizes the three of you.

She doesn’t say anything, just gives you the menu at your table and lets you be.

You sit at one of those corner tables, the kind that’s one big booth that wraps around. Kylo slides in first, you after him, and Flip at the end, sandwiching you between them on the red and white leather seat.

A different woman comes over, much less suspecting than the first, barely looks up at you as she pulls out her little notebook, and a pen, asking you, “What’ll you have honey?”

“Number 2 combo?” You’re polite, overly polite because you know that you’ll have to make up for the brusqueness of the men on either side of you. “With a basket of fries, and a large vanilla shake with two cherries, please.”

“Boys?” The waitress asks.

“Double cheeseburger with no pickles, and a coke. Please.” Flip replies, smoking his cigarette, already handing her the menu. You smile and kiss his chin, the goatee tickling your lips for a moment or two.

“Same.” Kylo replies, and you squeeze his thigh, a little warning. “Please.”

You grin at him, and the waitress leaves without another word.

The diner is full, nearly every table is packed. You don’t care, neither of you do. Flip’s got one arm slung across the back of the booth, his leg crossed over his thigh. Kylo’s leaned back against the booth, his legs spread. They’re both hard and you wonder how long it’s going to be before Flip decides that he’s ready to go to the motel.

You thank the waitress for the food when it gets delivered, and immediately go for the milkshake. You pluck the cherries off the stem with your teeth and chew them slowly, before one at a time tying the stem into a knot with your tongue and teeth.

“One for my honey,” You kiss Flip, passing the first cherry knot into his mouth, before turning to Kylo and doing the same, “And one for my baby.”

“You’re real fuckin’ good at that ketsl, aren’t you?” Flip grins, chewing on the cherry stem for a moment, because your man isn’t nothing if he’s not a chewer, before pulling it out of his mouth and letting it rest on the little napkin coaster.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” You tease, a little bubble of laughter escaping your throat.

“What’s so funny?” Kylo asks, his hand creeping between your legs, squeezing your thigh with his big palm.

“I’m just excited. I hope they have a room open.” You say honestly, earnestly in a way that has Kylo licking his lips, giving you a little half smirk. Flip smiles, smokes his cigarette.

“Yeah? Your pussy’s wet for it?” Kylo asks, his voice very low, deep and dark in your ear. It sends shivers up your spine, your thighs press together.

He smirks again, he can feel it with the hand creeping ever closer.

“Mmhmm, want a feel?” You dare, making his eyebrows shoot up a little, looking up to Flip.

“Here?” He asks, nodding slightly to the reminder that you’re all in a very public space. No one is looking at you, no one cares, everyone too preoccupied with their own affairs, their own dinner.

“Touch her.” Flip nods, baritone rumbling through your chest. “It’s okay.”

Kylo carefully, ever so subtly, pops open the fly of your jeans and wedges his hand into your underwear. His fingers slip and slide through the folds of your pussy, his cock throbbing in his own jeans as you spread your legs a little further. It’s all so discreet, no one would ever know what’s going on under that booth. Kylo’s good about things like that.

He rubs at your cunt for a while, your clit pulsing under the heat of his thumb, big and broad and rubbing soothing little circles that make your nerves short out, make you slurp a little harder on your milkshake. Your hand holds his wrist in place, you grind against the heel of it, and Flip tries his best not to grin.

You make the sweetest little sounds, doing your best not to move, not to be loud, not to be heard over the chatter of the diner, but when your eyes start to flutter and roll back, Kylo knows he has to stop.

“Pretty fuckin’ wet.” He eventually decides, pulling his hand away before you come, because it’d be bad if he got you coming right here – you come so loud after all – and buttons you back up.

“Well I gotta fit both of you, so it better be.” You turn back to Flip and kiss him a little, a couple chaste smooches against the warm skin of his throat.

“Oh is that what we’re doing tonight?” Kylo regards you and Flip carefully. You turn your attention to Flip too, eager to see what he has to say.

“Yeah, it is.” He says, before taking another bite out of the burger.

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

True to your word you ride over to the motel with Kylo, knowing that Flip will get you on the way back. With each second that passes, you only get more and more worked up, practically shaking as Kylo waits out in the motel parking lot, while you and Flip go inside to pay for the room.

“One room please.” Flip requests, already pulling out his fat wallet. He always carries cash for things like this – not that he’s got anything to hide from anyone, because you’re right there with him, but it just makes life a little less messy when there’s no paper trail.

The guy at the reception desk sees Kylo outside, and glances over at you carefully.

“How many people?” He asks, a little too suspiciously, but not suspiciously enough for either of you to give a shit.

“Oh a single king is fine.” Flip replies, his tone brooking no argument.

“Check-out’s at eleven.” The man says, sliding a single tarnished key attached to a Paradise Inn key-ring.

“Perfect, thank you.” You flash him a winning smile, and you pretend not to notice the way he stares after you as Flip holds open the door.

Lucky number 17, you find the door of your room easily. There’s not much, but then again you’re not here for a five star treatment. It’s small, brown shag carpeting from the door to the bathroom, with nothing more than a king sized bed, a black and white television on the dresser, and a lamp in the corner.

You barely get a second or two to take in the surroundings before Flip’s hands are on you. There’s a reason you wore the halter top, with one zip your tits are out and your nipples stiff against the cool air of the A/C. He rubs them with his rough thumbs, and you loop your arms around his neck as his hands travel lower lower lower, working on your jeans.

“Hi.” You say to him, your voice breathy and soft, excited.

“Hey honey-bunny.” Flip smiles back against your lips and then frowns at you like he’s angry about somethin’. He grabs your jaw and gives your face a little shake. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?”

“Mmhmm, but tell me anyway.” You grin, bratty and naked as he walks you back back back towards the king.

“Lay down on the bed, let me take a look at you,” Flip licks his lips, strikes up a cigarette and puffs the smoke thick and heavy into the air. He breathes out through his nose  “Damn, goddamn, you’re beautiful. We’re going to fuck you so hard you won’t know anything other than how beautiful you are.”

Flip works on unbuckling his belt, sliding it slowly out of the loops. You watch the movement, and so does Kylo.

“Did you bring the camera?” Kylo asks, knowing that sometimes, the first time Flip fucks you he likes Kylo to take pictures, all sorts of pictures from all sorts of angles.

Flip surprises him by shaking his head.

“No, not this time, this time’s just for the three of us. Come here.” He tells Kylo, turns him so that he’s facing you on the bed. You’ve pulled down the comforter and have thrown it to the floor so it doesn’t get too filthy, arms and legs spreading out beautifully in the sheets. Flip gives Kylo a gentle nudge, asks, “Do you want to kiss her?”

“Yes sir.” Kylo’s response is quick, and it makes Flip hum out in approval.

“Kiss her nice and slow, finger her open I want her ready for me by the time I’m done with my cigarette.” He pats Kylo on the back, and with the new permission, climbs up onto the bed with you.

He pulls your body to his, so that you’re facing one another on your sides, those muscular biceps flexing as they hold you close. Before he can really start, you tug the black t-shirt over his head, his chest exposed to you. Your hands splay across his pecs, and you gasp happily into his mouth as his left hand finds your pussy with his eyes closed.

“Your cunt’s so tight baby, how’d you manage that?” Kylo murmurs against your lips, thrusting one finger, then two, then three inside.

“Magic – oh!” Your eyes shoot open as he pushes those three fingers inside you up to his knuckles. He keeps them there are rubs against your walls, spreads his fingers, stretching you carefully. Your hips push down on his hand and you gasp again, this time a little harder. Immediately, Kylo’s other hand clamps down around your mouth.

“We can’t be too loud sweets.” He whispers, not stopping his pace at all, not letting up on your pussy, “These walls are thin, we can’t have anyone hearing you, they’ll know how much of a cockslut you are.”

“Kylo,” You whine, the sound muffled against his palm but still legible enough for them to hear, “I’m gonna come, Flip? Flip I’m – ”

Flip’s been smoking his cigarette at the foot of the bed, watching Kylo touch you, watching Kylo prepare you for him. He nods, even though you can’t see it, your eyes shut tight from the sensation of Kylo’s fingers stuffed up your pussy.

“You get to come as many times as you can tonight ketsl, don’t hold them back.” Flip rubs your calf soothingly, smirks at how your toes are curled and how your thighs tremble already.

“Thank you Philly -- ohh your hand’s just so fucking big Kylo, pleaseplease – a little harder please -- !” You encourage, and Kylo listens, always listens to what you say, to what you want. He’s a little rougher with you, a little faster, his fingers stiffening and curling inside you to rub against your gspot so that you can get out a quick orgasm before the night really begins.

He doesn’t even have to touch your clit before your body is snapping up for a split second, relaxing right after, shocks of pleasure ricocheting inside your brain.

“She’s ready for you.” Kylo kisses you softly and carefully eases his fingers out of your pussy.

You’ve done this often enough, you know what’s coming, but it still thrills you every time, still sends a jolt of adrenaline up your chest. Your ribs ache for it, for the feeling of being pressed between them, your orgasm glowing over your body as Flip puts his cigarette out.

“Good, hold onto her for me, hold her steady.” Flip tells Kylo.

Manhandling you, Kylo leans against the headboard of the shitty bed that squeaks and creaks and groans, and pulls your back against his chest. It’s broad and warm and already covered in a sheen of sweat, and you grin blissed out and in love, as you watch Flip shuck off his clothes.

Kylo wraps his hands beneath your thighs and holds them open. Flip smiles and kisses your pussy sweetly, swipes his tongue through the come and slick between your legs just once, before licking it off his lips and swallowing it down.

You let out a long moan when Flip pushes the head of his cock into you, your hips widening for him as you adjust yourself back against Kylo’s chest. Kylo kisses your neck, sucks on your earlobe while Flip bottoms out inside you, the feeling of fullness all the way up to your cervix making your knees want to fight Kylo’s grip.

“Flip,” You whine, your mouth seeking his, “Holy shit that’s good.”

“Kylo, rub her clit for me.” Flip smiles against your lips, sucks on your tongue as he rolls his hips against yours. Kylo’s fingers find their way back to your clit and he presses down with steady pressure in little circles. Flip groans as the sound of his cock thrusting in and out of you fills the air, “Your pussy’s so wet, pretty girl.”

“O-oh!” You moan, before suddenly, the overstimulation has your nipples leaking, making your eyes snap open with embarrassment, “Oh fuck, I’m sorry I – ”

“What’s that?” Kylo says, as Flip stops fucking you for a minute.

“Milk, shit, hand me the little towel?” You groan, one hand covering your face as Kylo lets your legs down, as Flip gives you some space.

“No – !” Kylo’s brain short-circuits, realizing that it’s your breastmilk, suddenly strangely fiercely protective of it. He doesn’t want it to go to waste, not something so precious as that, something that comes from you, something for the life that you’ve created with Flip. “No I’ll, can I -- ?”

You and Flip look at each other, before looking back at him, and he feels his heart hammer in his chest. He doesn’t know how to explain it, he just…he just thinks it would be wrong to wipe it away, not when…not when he could savor it.

“Of course you can.” You whisper, and this is new, this is something you haven’t done before, either with Flip or with Kylo or anyone else.

But damn, you’re eager to try.

Kylo shuffles out from under you, and you settle down onto the mattress again. Flip moves over you again, his arms holding your legs up around his hips as his cock sinks back into your cunt. Kylo licks up the milk that’s dripped from your nipples and sighs at the taste, his finger returning to your clit as he lays himself down so his head can rest on your sternum, your breast in his other hand as he latches himself to your nipple and sucks.

“Mmmmm.” You moan, one hand pulling Flip down to make out with him as he fucks you, your other hand carding gently through Kylo’s hair.

The sensation is overwhelming – the suction on your nipple as Kylo drinks his fill, his rough fingers on your clit, Flip’s cock dragging in and out of you, in and out in and out it drives you insane, it drives you over the edge, it makes your back arch and your toes curl and your eyes sting with pleasure, with the overstimulation on all ends.

“Aw fuck, fuck Flip – Kylo – fuck I’m – ” You’re hiccupping, panting, sweat sweat sweating all over and Flip knows you’re going to come again, he speeds his hips up, brings you closer closer closer, and you’re sobbing out their names, “Flip, Ky! Please!”

You come hard on Flip’s cock on Kylo’s fingers, cunt clenching down around them. Flip fucks you through it, you’re not done yet, not yet, not even getting started.

“You think you can take both of us?” Flip asks you seriously, sweetly, calmly. He doesn’t want to hurt you, never wants to hurt you, and so he makes sure you can handle it.

“Please!” Your eyes are clouded from orgasm as it rips through you, but there’s clear certainty in your voice when you shudder through the pleasure that you want, that they’re going to give you.

“Ky.” Flip places a sweating hand on his back, getting his attention. Kylo nods, pulls off of your nipple and licks up the droplets of milk that linger on his red swollen lips.

Kylo lays down on his back, and Flip gets off of you, grabs you carefully and settles you right on Kylo’s cock. It’s roughly the same size as Flip’s, although not as thick around the shaft, and you’re boneless above him as you sink down on it with a great big moan.

Flip kneels behind you, and whispers into your ear to relax as he pushes his cock inside your pussy too. You let your hips drop to accommodate them, and your nipples leak onto Kylo’s stomach as you cry, it’s too good, it’s so much and not enough because neither of them are moving and if they don’t start to move soon you might just lose your mind.

“You’re doing so good baby.” Flip’s hands hold you up, you can’t do it yourself, you’re drooling all over yourself and trying your best not to scream. Still, Flip asks, “Does it feel good?”

“Uh-huhh, you’re both really fucking big I – oh!” You let a big string of drool land on Kylo’s face, and he just licks it up, eyes wide, pupils blown black with lust. You can barely see one another in the shitty light of the lamp, but it’s enough to see how fucking hungry they both are for you.

“I’m going to come soon.” Kylo grunts out.

Now that he’s got his cock in you too, he’s starting to lose the ability to form coherent sentences. The tightness of your pussy and the friction of Flip’s cock rubbing against his own have his whole body tensing and flexing, shuddering and shaking as you moan and cry cry cry on top of him.

“Not fucking yet.” Flip growls through clenched teeth.

“Flip,” You sob, rocking back on the two cocks that can barely fit inside you, on the cusp of another orgasm that you’re almost afraid is going to hurt from how good it’ll be.

Flip thrusts into you harder, faster, he’s close too, you know he is, you can tell, can tell with how he’s starting to bite down on your shoulder, bite enough that he could break skin.

“No, not yet.” Flip shakes his head, hair sweaty and falling in his face as he corrals your body up and off him, with a harsh, “Pull out of her. I’m gonna come in you okay ketsl?”

“Please Flip, fill me up honey.” You cry into his mouth as he kisses you deeply, passionately, rolling you onto your sides so he can have one hand on your hip and the other splayed out across your back.

He grunts with a muffled shout against your lips and comes, shoots a hot thick load into your cunt and groans through it, hips pushing it deeper. He stays like that for a few moments, before forcing himself to pull out of your throbbing aching pussy. His come oozes onto your folds, drips and pools onto your slit. He strokes himself to make sure that every last drop gets on your pussy, before he collapses down onto the mattress with a loud groan, chest heaving.

“Fuck my come back into her, slowly Kylo.” Flip orders the man who had been fucking his fist to keep himself from shouting out your name. Kylo’s so quick to scramble back on top of your body, that Flip lets out a chuckle as he lights another cigarette and breathes, “Go slow, don’t come yet.”

“She’s so hot, you’re so fucking hot, sweets.” Kylo moans as he rubs the head of his dick into Flip’s come, pushes it through your folds and into your cunt. The squelch is slick, heady and so thick, the room smells so much like sex that Kylo almost blacks out from that alone, from the all consuming feeling of you.

“Thank you Kylo.” You slur your words, blissed out of your mind, the world moving in slow motion as Kylo takes long drags in and out of your pussy, pushing more of Flip’s come back into your body with each thrust.

“C-can I come, Flip, please,” Kylo sweats all over you, it drips down from his nose, the ends of his hair. He drools into the pit of your throat, and Flip breathes smoke through his nostrils like a great languid dragon, watching your face.

“No, not until she comes one more time.” Flip smiles at you softly, turning your face to meet his as he kisses you, his tongue hot and thick against yours as he sucks on your bottom lip. “You’re gonna come like this, aren’t you ketsl?”

“P-Phil I – yesyes I –” You cut yourself off and come for the last time of the evening, nothing but sensations, lights and sounds and feeling all around you. You feel like you can taste it, up in your throat, how much come there is inside you. Your hands rub at your lower stomach, it’s like you can feel it, sloshing around inside you. “I’m so full.”

“Here honey-bunny,” Flip gives Kylo a nod, “You can take some more, here.”

Kylo comes so hard that his arms give out on top of you, and he falls with a thud onto your messy chest. You’re all disgusting, covered in spit and tears and sweat, milk and come, all mixing all over these sheets. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you make a reminder to leave more cash for the maid in the morning.  

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

Everything is quiet, as the three of you catch your breath. Kylo comes in you just as much as Flip does, and you moan in the back of your throat at the thought of it mixing together, your two favorite boys inside you.

“Thank you Philly, thank you Ky.” You mumble, your eyes shut, mind already starting to drift off to sleep. You’re exhausted, after all that, and the pillowcase is cool and so inviting.

“You’re welcome sweets.” Kylo pulls out of you, his cock softening enough that you only wince a little from the overstimulation.

“Anything for my girl.” Flip pulls you to him once again, never wanting you too far away, wanting you close to him.

“Sleep?” You tuck your head under his chin, already snuggling against him, not caring about anything else in the entire world other than the heartbeat underneath your cheek.

“No, no not yet, we gotta get cleaned up.” Flip cards his fingers through your tangled knotted hair, picking apart the sweatier pieces and coaxing you up with little kisses. “C’mon ketsl, shower time.”

“I can’t get up.” You complain, and Flip chuckles because after the night you just had, he’d be surprised if you’d be okay to walk for a couple of days.

It was a good thing the weekend was just around the corner, he thinks, because he doesn’t envision you getting out of bed at all when he gets you back home, when you leave the motel in the morning. Still, you can’t not shower and use the bathroom, so he pats Kylo’s shoulder.

“Ky, give me a hand?” He asks, hoping to get some help from the man.

Thankfully, Kylo’s awake enough to shoulder some of the weight as the three of you shuffle your way to the bathroom. The hot water is blissful on your sore muscles, and you groan and moan and sigh with happiness as big strong hands wash your body, your hair, your face.

In the morning, the three of you will sneak out well before anyone will have any clue that you’ve gone. You’ll wrap your arms around Flip’s middle as he rides the motorcycle back towards home. You’ll pick up your daughter from your dear friend who knows what you get up to and doesn’t judge, and whenever anyone else asks where you’ve been, well…you won’t be lying when you tell them paradise.

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

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 27

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Angst, slight fluff

; Word Count: 4k

; Warnings: Not really an argument but close to it, depictions of anxiety and stress

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: This is one of the more angsty ones, not as bad as before, I swear! I hope you don’t think too harshly of the MC, she’s trying :( the next one is super fluffy...as it’s their anniversary! :D so fear not. As usual, please reblog if you enjoyed it so others can read it and leave me comments, feedback and asks! Thank you!

; Flower Masterpost

-

Straightening up from the bent-over position you’d been in for the last five minutes, you wince at the pain in your back and rub at it with a slight pout to your lips. You don’t remember if moving into your apartment had been this stressful or tiring, but then your place had been much smaller and you’d had less stuff. 

Even with the help of Jimin and Jungkook, it had taken Hoseok and you three days to get everything out of both your old apartments and into your new place. The two of you had started looking for somewhere soon after agreeing to the idea and it had been pure luck to find your new home.

The two-bedroom house that you were both renting was only half an hour away from your parents. It was bigger than you’d originally anticipated but small enough to make it perfect for a couple. There was a backyard that was currently a little overgrown but offered a surprising amount of space while the driveway had space for both your cars. 

The interiors needed a little rework initially but the landlord had promised to have everything repainted and fixed for you both, which they had thankfully. You also had permission to put up decorations on the walls and treat this place like your own home, as long as it all went back to looking neutral at the end.

There had been no reason for either of you to turn it down, especially as the rent was low and the utilities more than affordable. Okay, so you both would need to drive a little further to get to work every day. But both of you were making up for it with the reduction in what you would be paying now compared to before, so you’d eagerly signed the lease agreement as soon as possible.

Which was how you were now here, kneeling on the floor of your new living room as you let out a deep sigh of resignation. Even though you’d been the one to ask Hoseok to move in together, which had surprised pretty much everyone you both knew, it had unsurprisingly been you who’d ended up having issues about the whole thing.

The issues were nothing to do with him or even the idea of living with him. Instead, they were everything to do with the fact that you hated, and struggled to cope with, change of any kind. There probably wasn’t a bigger change out there than uprooting your entire life to a new house and then sharing that house with someone else, a person whom you were romantically involved with. 

Suddenly, any decisions you made regarding your home would need to include Hoseok in them. You wouldn’t be able to change things on the fly like you were used to, nor would you be able to be by yourself at home when you were feeling overwhelmed. It sounded silly when you thought about it logically, or said it out loud, but you’d found yourself struggling over it all.

You’d thought you were ready for it all. After all, you’d been the one to ask him the big question. Only you’d had more than a few meltdowns in the process of packing up your apartment. It made you cringe to think back on them, embarrassment and shame flooding you as you recall the way you’d handled it all.

If there was one thing you’d learnt over the years, it was that you didn’t handle things well in all honesty. Which was why you bottled it all up until it got too much. The results of those explosions got you even more upset, producing a never-ending cycle. Which was why you would often get set off by the smallest, most unimportant thing.

Only last week you’d slipped into, what could only politely be termed, a temper tantrum. A big, fat, adult tantrum. You’d been in the process of breaking down one of the bookcases in your old living room, unscrewing everything carefully after you’d packed away the contents.

The combination of tiredness from all the packing, the stress of moving and changing over debits, the strain of all the lifting, the fact you were doing all this after a full day of work and how your body ached from all the lifting and dismantling had accumulated after you’d accidentally dropped one of the wood sections onto your foot. Almost immediately you’d yelped out in pain before cursing loudly, frustrated tears seeping as you’d visibly trembled in rage at the stupid bookcase.

It had taken half an hour locked inside your bedroom until you’d finally calmed down enough to go back out and carry on. Thankfully, Hoseok hadn’t been there to witness that moment.

Your boyfriend was far more than you deserved as he hadn’t complained about your slowly souring mood. If you were being honest with yourself, he’d probably seen it coming. He had been the one to make completely sure that you were okay with the idea and had tried to make things go as slowly as possible so you didn’t freak out too much. But you were still struggling with it all.

Your antidepressants were working fine and you were thankful that you hadn’t fallen into a slump, but you just felt like you couldn’t think properly. Nothing was in its right place and everything was just...wrong at the moment. Then there was the fact that you were going to have Hoseok’s stuff here too and you’d both bickered about whether or not to set up the second bedroom as a spare bedroom or an office.

He was truly a saint, you were positive, because despite how grumpy you had slowly become he had taken it all on the chin with a patient smile. You, however, just wanted to go to sleep and for everything to be ready to use in the morning. 

It frustrated you to look around the house and see everything that still needed to be built and put away. If you stared too long then you often ended up feeling the heat build in your eyes, tears threatening as exhaustion buffeted you. But that wasn’t how it went, and so you had been unpacking box after box only to find it was more stuff that needed to go in the storage unit that Hoseok was going to build.

Or rather, should have built. He’d promised a few hours ago that he’d get it all set up for you so that you could at least get these boxes out of the way. This unit was going to store all the books, board games and Hoseok’s vinyl records. Instead, they were all still in the boxes and you were glaring at the box that held the storage unit. Still not made.

“Hoseok!” You yell, the tone of your voice a little harsher than you’d intended it. He wasn’t used to hearing you get angry or annoyed but he’d certainly gotten used to it in the last two weeks. Being the good person he was though, he hadn’t snapped back at you. Yet.

“Yeah?” Comes his muffled response and you hear the quiet, low voices of the other two men from the main bedroom. They’d been putting together the bedroom furniture all day while you’d unpacked the kitchen, carefully storing the fragile dishes and glasses before finding homes for the food that you’d run to the store for.

“I thought you said you were going to build this unit?” Even as the words come out of your mouth, you can tell that you’re being unreasonable. He’d spent all day sweating and swearing as he’d set up bedside cabinets, drawers and even the bed. The two of you had decided to invest in all new furniture given you both had rather dated furniture that didn’t match at all.

Unnecessary? Yes, but you’d just wanted to have a nice home that looked right. Yet again, more unreasonable demands from you and more expense. But he hadn’t complained about any of it, instead just going shopping with you and getting it all. Maybe he thought there was no point in complaining or something, but you had the furniture you’d wanted in the end.

And you weren’t being a mean person. You had offered to help them build it all but they’d waved it off with the eagerness of men wanting to be manly and build things. Plus, you were pretty convinced that Hoseok knew how frustrated you’d become just dismantling furniture and didn’t want to risk you getting even angrier if something went wrong while building. 

After repeated offers to help them being rebuffed, you’d finally just shrugged and settled yourself for putting away everything that you could. You liked doing that much better really as it gave you a sense of peace and satisfaction to see things in the places you wanted them and looking tidy.

Maybe that was why Hoseok had suggested you do that. He’d been amused the first time he’d seen your food pantry all in neat lines for ease of storage and access but had slowly learnt that you liked everything to have a place and always be in it. 

As it was, the kitchen was pretty much completed and so was the ensuite bathroom and the guest bathroom. The living room had Hoseok’s couch and your coffee table while there were a dining table and chairs towards the back. Perfect for both eating and gaming, of course.

But there was no storage in here because...well because Hoseok hadn’t built it!

“Sorry, I’ve been busy here. We’ve just got to finish up with these drawers-” Huffing, you scowl at the unopened box before looking over all the other boxes that haven’t even been touched as his excuses wash over you. The rational part of you knows that they’re valid excuses and you even want to tell him it’s fine, the living room can wait until tomorrow.

The dark cloud of annoyance, stress, anxiety and tiredness has settled fully over your mind though and you grit your teeth as tears form in your eyes. Why did you always have to cry when you were angry? It was pathetic.

“It’s fine. Whatever.” There’s a terse silence that follows your short words and you can practically hear Jimin and Jungkook cringing at the tension that’s suddenly ratcheted up. Pursing your lips, you wipe at your eyes furiously before closing the box back up and pushing at it harshly.

“I’ll build it now for you.” Hoseok’s voice is much closer and you look up, noting his carefully neutral expression on his tired face. Almost immediately you feel remorse for being short with him but the words get stuck in your throat. His hands are a little dirty from the dust of the furniture he’s been building and you note they’re also a little red, probably sore from using the screwdrivers and stuff. 

You go to look for some of your hand cream to rub into them for him before realising that you have no idea where it is and the negativity comes rushing back. The box that he’s carrying clinks quietly and you know it’s got all the tools he needs in it to build the unit.

“I said it’s fine. We can do it tomorrow.” Looking away from him, you rub at your forehead from the headache you’ve got while rolling your shoulders, trying to stretch the aches and pains away. There’s a deep sigh from Hoseok that sounds incredibly controlled and you wince slightly, realising that he’s holding his temper back.

“It’s okay, it’s a quick build. It’ll take half an hour or something and then it’ll be done. Better to get it done now and then we get some of these boxes gone, right?” Closing your eyes, you bite your lip hard as you try to settle yourself. When you’re in one of these moods, you normally just take yourself off somewhere to be alone so you can’t be rude or mean. 

But there is nowhere to take yourself to here. Nowhere that’s ready, anyway.

Pressing your hands to your eyes, you feel the hysterical urge to just cry and scream. The knowledge that all your safe spaces have vanished for the moment and you have nowhere to go to be calm tipping you further. Even Kasumi is stuck just sleeping on the floor as her stuff is also packed away, waiting to be rebuilt.

You just want it all done so that you can settle back down and allow yourself time to get used to the new environment you live in. Let it all become familiar and warm once more, a home that you can retreat to and feel comfortable in. Right now, it resembles more of an IKEA and you hate it.

“Baby-” Hoseok starts and you shake your head furiously, wiping hard at your eyes before pushing the box of books as hard as you can in front of you. It’s a futile way to get out some of your anger and stress, but it feels good. Better than saying something that might hurt the one person who’s understood you more than anyone in years.

“Leave me alone. Please. Go build the bed or whatever. It’s fine. Tomorrow. I just, I need you to-” You’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore and you feel the anxiety of it all building up. Leaving your old apartment was so much harder than you’d expected and you’d struggled with the idea of knowing you no longer had anywhere to truly be alone. If you got mad at Hoseok in the future, he’d still be in the house somewhere.

You’d spent so many years making your place somewhere that was comfortable and familiar to you, a home that you enjoyed being in and now it was all gone. Now you have to relearn how to make this space comfortable and learn entirely new ways of how to cope with your moods and behaviour with another person.

The quiet sound of the door shutting clues you into the fact that Jimin and Jungkook have left. Unsurprising really, because you sure wouldn’t want to hang around to hear a domestic argument. Particularly given one of those involved is perhaps the quietest person they’ve ever known.

Standing, you pick up one of the boxes that are filled with your board games and move it to the other side of the living room, providing plenty of space to build furniture tomorrow. Going back, you don’t look at Hoseok and you’re not entirely sure why. Maybe you’ll explode on him or maybe you’ll burst into tears. Who knows?

You don’t, which is why you clench your jaw. 

There’s an awkward silence between you both as Hoseok doesn’t move, simply watches as you rearrange the boxes in the living room. It makes absolutely no difference now that they’re on the other side of the room but you feel a small sense of relief and peace when they’re all lined up neatly in one area, stacked on top of each other carefully.

The floor is visible once more and you frown at the sight of all the dust covering it. You should vacuum that, only you don’t think you have a vacuum anymore. That may have been one of the things Hoseok said to throw out as yours was ancient and he didn’t even have one. 

Scowling at it, you go to the kitchen to grab some cleaning spray and a cloth to at least get the coffee table looking nice. There was no reason for it as it was just going to get dirty again immediately from all the furniture dust but you just needed to make it look clean for now.

“I’m not gonna fight you, Y/N. Please tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok says quietly, his voice carefully neutral and you pause at the kitchen cabinet, fingers on the door handle. “Please. I don’t want to argue with you when I know you’re not mad at me.”

He sounds so reasonable and calm that you don’t snap at him immediately, instead frowning down at the countertop and rubbing at a mark on it. For a few minutes, you don’t respond and he doesn’t push either. You’re not entirely sure what nation you saved in a previous life to get him, but it must have been a big one.

There’s plenty of other men who would have had a full-scale argument with you by now. The kind of argument that would have let you in tears while you struggled to breath from the anxiety of it all. But t Hoseok knew you. After almost a year together, he knew what upset you and made you angry. Most of all, he knew that you didn’t respond well to conflict. Which was he was just waiting for you to talk to him instead of shouting at you.

Maybe the knowledge that he wasn’t going to snipe at you or be mean was the final straw. All you know though, is that his soft and reassuring words seem to cause something inside of you to crack and all the stress that’s been building up inside your mind finally bursts free. 

Lips quivering, you frown hard as you wonder how you’re meant to get across what you’re feeling and thinking. You don’t even really know yourself, so trying to describe it to the one person who you want to understand the most is even harder. Made more so by the fear he might find your excuses pitiful.

“I don’t...it’s just,” Your throat closes tightly as thick tears slowly start to fall. “It’s a lot. Everything’s a lot right now and I just...I can’t handle it. I don’t know how to. I mean...I don’t feel comfortable here yet and it’s making me so anxious and unhappy. And then everything is in these fucking boxes and nothings built properly, we don’t even have the television set up and it’s just...I’m just struggling. I’m trying Hobi, I’m trying.”

You whisper the last words, wiping at your eyes and nose as you try your hardest not to completely break down. If there’s one thing you hate the most in the world, it’s probably crying. It makes you feel pathetic, and when you’re struggling with something as simple as moving places it makes you even more so.

“I just...nothing’s where I like it and I don’t know where everything is. It all feels foreign to me and even Kasumi doesn’t have her stuff! I don’t even know what I’m saying, it’s not even that bad but...but...I just want it all finished so I can start getting used to it! Start thinking of it all as a home and getting used to a routine here! And I’ve had to change all my routines around now because it takes longer to get to work so I have to get up earlier which means I have to go to bed earlier and find out the traffic and-” You’re interrupted by Hoseok wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tightly.

For a few seconds, you do nothing until the warmth of his embrace causes you to turn around and link your arms around his waist too. Inhaling deeply, you take in his scent and start to cry once more as everything all comes to a head in your mind, all the ramblings thoughts and stressors and worries you’ve had flooding out as you ramble on to him.

Finally, though, you run out of things to tell him about why you’re so upset about seemingly nothing and instead just hold onto him silently. Your tears are soaking his shirt and you feel a little embarrassed at your minor meltdown but most of all, you just feel safe in his arms. Like no matter what you say or how silly it sounds, he won’t judge you.

In the chaos of your mind and surroundings right now, he was stable and familiar. Comforting.

“Why didn’t you argue with me? I could practically hear you restraining yourself. I was being so stupid and mean for no reason.” You whisper after a while, lips brushing against his shirt with every word. His chest shakes as he chuckles, a hand stroking along your back reassuringly.

“Oh, I almost did. Today was the closest I’ve ever come to snapping back at you. There’s every chance I might’ve done if you’d been someone else. But I know you. And even though you haven’t confided it to me...I know you’ve been putting a brave face on with this whole moving thing. We’ve been together for almost a year, sweetheart. I know what makes you upset and I’ve learnt that change is one of them. And this? Is a big change. I’m stressed over it all so I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling.” The tears return to sting at your eyes, pricking at them hotly and you sniff almost pathetically at his sweet, soothing words.

“I’m sorry. I just…” He cuts you off once more with a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“It’s okay, honestly. I’m just happy you’ve finally told me. I’d pretty much figured all of this out and I knew you weren’t coping too well. But you weren’t talking to me and I didn’t want to push it if you didn’t feel comfortable. But baby, please, in the future just talk to me. I don’t want us to get into another situation like today where we’re on the verge of an unnecessary argument over something as stupid as a storage unit.” He’s rubbing his hands along your arms in a warming gesture, giving you a soft smile that has the tears banking once more.

“I’m sorry. I just...I always feel so stupid. It’s not even anything that bad and I’m here acting like a baby over it all.” Your words are a little thick from how tight your throat is and Hoseok sighs once more, only this time a little more affectionately. The small smile he gives you cuts through your wallowing self-pity.

“You’re not being a baby. If you’re upset over it, then you’re upset over it. I don’t want you getting stressed or anxious over anything but I’ll take having your routine changed and the places where you feel safe and comfortable changing over you getting pissed at me just because I hadn’t built something on time. Those are real reasons to get upset, emotions that are a part of you and I’ll try my hardest to never be angry at you for feeling them. I can’t guarantee it’ll always work because Lord knows I’d almost reached my point today but I will try. Because I know you don’t mean it. You’re the least angry and mean person I’ve ever met, to be honest.” A kiss to your forehead once more seals his words and you sniff, wiping at your face again.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or upset you. I’m sorry. This is just, really big. And I’m scared too. Because if something goes wrong between us then this,” You gesture round to the house in general. “Makes it harder for us to go our separate ways. That frightens me.”

“Hey, it frightens me too. But you know what’s good about that? I have zero plans of leaving you anytime and I’m pretty sure you have zero plans too. Right?” A head tilt from him adds to his questioning tone and you can’t help the soft smile as you nod. Enveloping you in a tight hug once more, Hoseok does his best to reassure you before pulling away slowly.

“Okay, we finished all the bedroom off so...how about we just get the bedding sorted, order takeout and then just watch something on my laptop? No more negativity and no more work today, okay? Let’s just cuddle up and relax.” Looking out over the living room that you can see over the island in the kitchen, you twist your lips at the sight of everything still packed away before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

[agoodpersonrose]

You want to WRITE again and I want you to WRITE again so #20 You walk out of a dressing room asking if the outfit suits you, but it’s not your friend waiting outside the room like you thought.

I KNOW this is a meet-cute prompt, but I also knew that there is already an INCREDIBLE fic based on this very concept right here by chthonicheart, and I couldn’t work out a way to write it without stepping on their toes. So, instead, I made it a mini canon divergent fic, I really hope that’s okay!

Patrick is desperate.

He’s really desperate, and he’s terrified. He truly had no idea when he woke up this morning that it would be such a momentous- such a life altering day.

But then, David was making a fuss over a man asking for a gift receipt, and then he was asking Patrick about birthdays, and that could only add up to one thing. It all came tumbling out after that; the invitation to dinner, the suggestion of 8pm (the universal date time), and then of course, the water out of the spray bottle, all over the carrots that Patrick then spent the next ten minutes dabbing anxiously with a piece of tissue, trying not to look too flustered.

But the truth is, Patrick is flustered; he finally did it. He finally asked David Rose out on a date. The same David Rose who has been the sole focus of all his attention; all his affection ever since he wandered into Ray’s house all those months ago.

It’s for this reason that Patrick is desperate to find some way to make this date go well. He needs it to succeed, because if it doesn’t, then he just knows he will always look back on this night as the one where he missed his chance. Where he lost out on the one thing he knows for sure that he really wants.

Except as soon as Patrick gets home, he finds that he has little- no, nothing that he could possibly wear that could live up to his expectations for this evening.

He’s still got five hours, so he tries not to panic. There’s plenty of time to hurry down to the clothing store in Elmdale, although, even if he did do that, there’s no guarantee that he could find something that he would like; something that would be worthy of sitting across from David’s monochrome glory.

He should have thought this through properly.

“Patrick? Are you okay in here? I hope you’re not intending on wearing that shirt soon, it’s going to need some considerably good ironing to get it back to the usual Brewer standards!”

Ray’s voice in his bedroom doorway startles Patrick out of his thoughts, and he looks down to find the one shirt that was in the running crumpled up in a ball in his hands.

“Patrick?” Ray repeats, stepping further into the doorway and looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just- I need to choose something. To wear to dinner. Tonight.”

Ray brightens up at the statement, seeming excited just to be involved in this important discussion. “To dinner?” he asks, suddenly turning sly. “I didn’t know you had a dinner planned for tonight. Anyone I know?”

Patrick can feel himself heating up and just laughs brokenly. “Ha, um, well, actually. It’s David’s birthday, so I asked if he wanted to go for a meal?”

“Oh, a meal?”

“Yes, a meal, and--”

Patrick pauses, thinking hard about what he’s about to ask, but eventually he gives in to the impulse.

“What are you doing this afternoon, Ray? I could really do with your help.”

This is how Patrick ends up accompanying his roommate/landlord/former boss on the forty-minute drive to one the only clothing stores in Elmdale.

Ray had agreed almost too quickly, seeming eager to get Patrick ‘out of his comfort zone’ and ‘into some colour’. Patrick is trying very hard not to regret his decision to bring his only friend along on the shopping excursion, though that is getting harder by the minute, as Ray rattles on and on about differing pattern swatches, and fabrics, and “ooh, maybe a little bolo tie!”

They pull up at the only viable store in the area, Ray shooting out of the driver’s seat in a fit of golden-retriever-like frenzy and rushing Patrick in and over to the men’s clothing section.

Surprisingly enough, Ray is conservative with some of his choices. Sure, there is a crocodile patterned vest thrown in, and a sweater with a cow on it which really would cause David to lose any affection he might possibly hold for him at this stage.

“I think these should do for the first round,” Ray says cheerily, bustling them into Patrick’s arms and pushing him in the direction of the changing rooms. “Go and try them on and I’ll be right with you with the next load.”

Patrick goes, unable to argue when Ray is acting this way, and wanders cluelessly past racks of shirts, suits, and jeans.

He smiles politely at the changing room attendant, and slips into one of the empty stalls, immediately letting out a huffed breath and glaring at himself in the mirror. He’s going to find something today. He’s going to look for his date, and he is definitely going to sweep David off his feet tonight.

And he’s going to kiss him.

That one he’s less certain about but he’s working on it.

Patrick slowly unbuttons his blue shirt, one white button at a time, and pulls it off, placing it carefully on a spare hanger while he slips on a bright orange sweater over his under shirt. He looks again in the mirror, wrinkles up his nose at the gaudy pattern, and goes to take it off.

“Patrick?” he hears Ray’s voice, and groans internally as he pulls the curtain back for his opinion. “Oooh, wow, well I think that’s a winner! What do you think?”

Patrick winces and looks down at the sweater, pulling the sleeves over his hands and making an uncertain noise. “I think maybe the colour isn’t quite--”

“Say no more, I’ll be right back with the next selection. Try this next!”

With that, another handful of clothing, this time majority black fabric.

“Ray, what are you--”

“Try them on, Patrick!” Ray calls without turning back, already disappearing behind another clothes rack.

Patrick does as he’s told again, stepping behind the curtain and pulling on a tight black fluffy sweater, leaving his work jeans on. It’s surprisingly, nice; soft fabric and a tight cut, and Patrick finds himself smoothing his hands over his chest several times with a pleased hum.

“I don’t know Ray,” he calls when he hears footsteps heading into the room. “I just don’t think David is going to be that impressed if I show up to our first date looking like his twin.”

There’s a small intake of breath, but Patrick pays it no mind, and instead steps out into the brighter lighting of the corridor, turning towards the large mirror leaning against the far wall.

Patrick whistles air between his teeth. “I’ll tell you what. It’s soft though, it’s pretty touchable,” he says, turning to one side, his hands continuing to skate along his own shoulders and arms. “Maybe too informal, you know? I want to impress him tonight; I just don’t know what he’ll think about this.”

Suddenly, a hushed conversation and some fast footsteps heading out of the changing rooms alert Patrick that something is happening, and he turns to look behind him.

“Oh. David.”

David Rose is standing in the changing room across from him, impeccably dressed and pale with surprise as he stares down Patrick from three doors down.

“Hi--”

“What are you doing here?”

David looks embarrassed all of a sudden, as if he is the person who just admitted in front of his crush that he was trying to impress him. “Well, um, Stevie actually brought me, she thought she might need a new outfit for- for tonight.”

Patrick’s heart drops through his stomach. “You’re going out with Stevie tonight?”

“Well, no, she was kind of under the impression that we all might be going out, um, after dinner. So, she wanted to get an outfit ready to collect some Randoms, not that that means much more than a vile new flannel shirt and jeans off the clearance rack, but you know.”

“Stevie is coming tonight,” Patrick says slowly, and then finally stops his hands where they have continued to brush against his sweater in an almost self-soothing manner. “To our dinner, tonight.”

David winces, looking uncomfortable.

“Okay, Patrick. I have a few more options here for you. Now, I know that blue is perhaps your statement colour, however, have we considered trying something a little more out there that I really think will catch David’s attention.”

Ray appears in the doorway and holds up a sequin covered sweater which changes colour from purple to pink when pushed in the opposite direction.

“Oh, um--”

“I don’t know Ray, I’m really quite enjoying his current get-up, don’t you think?”

Patrick blinks and turns toward David, who seems to have regained his confidence and is smirking at Patrick with his hand perched on his chin as if deep in thought.

“I think it looks touchable,” David continues. “And we all know how important that is for a first date.”

Ray looks between Patrick and David with an expression of pure elation on his face. Before he can open his mouth to say anything else in response, Stevie is suddenly back in the room too.

“Ray, I’m so glad you’re here. Do you think you could give me some advice for a--” she hesitates a minute, clearly coming up with something on the spot. “For a business meeting, that I have.” Ray’s grin grows ever bigger, and he is soon rushed away back to the store, though Patrick doesn’t miss the thumbs up Stevie shoots at David as they round the corner.

As soon as they’re alone, David steps up to Patrick and puts his hands on his shoulders. His touch is tentative and careful, but warm, as he slowly rubs up and down the seam of the black sweater.

“Mm, very touchable,” David hums, “But aren’t you supposed to ‘be yourself’ on a first date?”

“David--”

“I for one, will be wearing my very favourite Neil Barrett sweater. It has a lightning bolt across it, and my tightest pair of jeans.”

Patrick lets out a breath and slowly raises his hands to David’s waist. He’s still in the heart sweater from this morning, and the fabric is soft and warm from his body heat. “Oh, and why’s that?”

“I just think it shows off my best assets.”

Patrick clicks his tongue and leans back, pretending to look behind David for a while. “I don’t know, these seem to be doing the job just fine in my opinion.”

The laugh David lets out in response is miraculous, and his grip tightens on Patrick’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me it was a date?” he asks, dropping his voice slightly. “When you asked me to dinner.”

“I thought I’d made it obvious!” Patrick exclaims, unable to stop himself from feeling embarrassed despite how close David is standing to him. “And I’d hoped that if you didn’t know before, then you would know by the time you got there.”

“Not if Stevie had come and crashed it!”

“Mm, well, that just sounds like poor planning on your part.”

David pulls a face and sways closer. “You should kiss me now,” he mumbles, almost nervous in the way he’s pawing at Patrick, and dropping his gaze.

“You should at least buy me dinner first,” Patrick manages to get out before David’s lips are on his.

It’s a short kiss really, considering how long they’ve been waiting, though not by Patrick’s choice, as he makes a disgruntled noise of annoyance when David’s mouth is pulled away, and moving.

“Wha--”

“I said, how set are we on the café for our first date?”

Patrick blinks incomprehensibly, unable to stop his gaze from straying back down to David’s lips. Not that he knows what they feel like, how they taste, he can’t help but want to dive in for a second try.

“It’s just- There’s a diner down the road from here, I was thinking we could maybe--”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” David says, grinning and kissing Patrick quickly again. “Go get changed. This is lovely, but I want to go on this date with the blue-button-up, discount jeans Patrick who has been driving me mad these past few months.”

Patrick kisses David again, just because he can, and hurries off to change.

He’s got a date.

[malethirsty]

Loyalty - Tyler Lockwood

Summary: When Klaus’s #2 makes eyes with you, Klaus sets the two of you up. But when you encounter an issue, it’s down to you to pull through for the both of you.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (However Orgasm occurs once Tyler pulls out, make of that what you will), Homophobic comments, Elena and co. become villains

Inspired by: https://twitter.com/MaleThirst/status/1196818509830819841

Life had changed drastically since Klaus had found out how to make hybrids. He moved you quickly into his house & got his new army to guard you in case Elena and her friends tried to pull any punches, The Council did indeed cut you off, but the Mikaelson fortune was extended to you by Klaus & the day spent shopping with Rebekah helped you both to bond. What was the most surprising thing was that you were now spending more time with Tyler Lockwood. You expected Elena to surround a support group around him, or ask him to spy on Klaus, but she ditched him, as it had been found out that Klaus had sired Tyler, and thus Tyler was now fiercely loyal to him. It was good to have someone else to share an admiration for Klaus & on days when the Original Hybrid had to battle against Damon & Mikael, you took time with Rebekah to train the newest hybrid. It was a Friday night that you all finally got to take a break from hecticness of it all. “Don’t you usually go to the Mystic Grill on Fridays, love?” Klaus pondered as he saw you flopped down, trying to find something on Netflix. “I mean I would, but Elena and all her friends are there, and I know they’ll send me out of the bar.” Klaus could tell you were still a bit down following your exile & leaned in to give you a kiss “Y/N, You need to boost your confidence. I’ll send Rebekah to watch from afar, but also, to make them that much more pissed, tonight I’ll send you out to the Mystic Grill with Tyler as a date, make Caroline jealous.” You snorted, it did sound like a good idea but “Is Tyler up for this?” You asked, you wanted it to be his idea & not Klaus planting him there “I asked him, he said yes. He also said he has a thing for you as well, so I’ve booked you next to her hotel room where she’s staying for the night before flying out for some Miss Virginia thing, keep her up all night.” “And how would I do that?” Klaus leaned up to whisper in your ear “You know how love. Do you always do with me every night” you knew that Klaus meant to fuck Tyler and while the idea sounded good.

“I’ll let Tyler know to be ready at a quarter to 8.” Klaus smiled, dimples on show as you headed into the closet, to pick out some good clothing. In next to no time, whether it be a need to impress you or due to his newly acquired speed, Tyler was ready & waiting as he walked you down the street, hand in hand. Right behind you was Rebekah not only your escort but also giving dirty looks to those who were giving you & Tyler side eye, which was comforting to you, it was nice to know Klaus, Tyler & Rebekah at least cared about your wellbeing, even if the world around you was less than sympathetic. As you entered the Mystic Grill, you saw the majority of the building taken up for Caroline’s big title party. Rebekah positioned herself near the door as You & Tyler selected the same secluded booth that you had gone to the night You & Klaus became partners. Ordering your usual Chips & Garlic Bread, Tyler ordering the same with a massive burger, you eventually opened up the conversation. “So Klaus told me about you having a thing for me.” Tyler gave a slight grin “When did you know & why didn’t you tell me earlier?” “Well it was a while ago, after Dad died, I realised I was free from his vileness, and I was going to tell you after the funeral, but then everything with Mason and turning happened, I threw myself into what I had become instead of managing both my crush & that.” Tyler swallowed, clearly not used to letting out a lot “It’s alright Tyler, you went through a lot so quickly, I’m not angry and you had every right to work on yourself before hand.” Tyler grinned as his burger got placed on the table “Jesus Christ, That’s massive! How are you gonna get through that?!” Tyler shrugged “You know that before I was a hybrid, I played football right Y/N? I’ve always had a big appetite.” “What exactly is the appeal of football? I’ve never understood.” Tyler shot a grin at you “Y/N, tonight I’m gonnna give you a crash course.”

And indeed he did, outlining the rules of the game, his favourite team and some spectacular moments that he had achieved with Mystic Falls during his tenure as a player. Usually you’d scoff at sport talk but Tyler was so engaging in great conversation, that you didn’t mind a second, and as much as you listened to him, he listened to you discuss your likeness of musical theatre with the same enjoyment plastered on his face as you had when he talked. “Y/N, I’m having one of the best date nights ever, Little Miss Blonde over there couldn’t compare” you were about to start laughing when at that exact moment, Elena’s group came over to your table. “Well hello there” Damon said somewhat curtly “Hello Damon, I guess you’re here to intimidate us” you responded, “Now Y/N, me intimidate, never!” Damon mockingly feigned outrage “Well it’s not for the bourbon since there’s none at our table” you quipped back, Elena stepping in. “No we aren’t here to intimidate, we wanted to take a look at the man who stabbed me in the back last week, who sold us all to Klaus, who made me a blood bag, how you had the nerve to show up at our bar and stage some sort of mock date to get under Caroline’s skin”. Whilst Elena was right about trying to get Caroline riled up, she had no business questioning Tyler’s feelings for you, which made you angry, and looking over to where Tyler sat, you noticed he was gripping his fists angrily, trying bot to let an outburst emerge and ruin the night. Looking to your left, you saw Rebekah had heard what was going on and had stepped up from her table, with your own group of friends ready to back you up, you decided that you might as well strike back, wasn’t as if she could do worse “Wow Elena, your ass is jealous at the amount of shit that just came out of your mouth” Seeing Elena’s shit eating grin thinking that she had intimidated you fall was quite possibly the sight of the year, but you weren’t done, not at all “Firstly, Tyler was close to dying, so if I hadn’t said anything, he wouldn’t be here, also when was the last time any of you acknowledged me in your supernatural group of expertise? I didn’t owe you a God damn thing. And this ‘mock date?’ How would you know that Tyler’s feelings are genuine?” “Because I dated him for several months & as an ally I can tell when someone has feelings for men.” Caroline said now stepping forwards next to Elena to survey the scene. You turned to face Caroline, intending to give her the same verbal lashing as Elena “It’s about time someone told you Caroline, but having a group of Gay Friends who help you shop & quoting lines from RuPaul’s Drag Race does not make you an ally, it makes you an insufferable cunt.” A snorting laugh came from your left, and without turning, you knew that Rebekah had enjoyed your comment Now Caroline was looking like she’d been hit over the face with how red she’d turned, embarrassed she’d been called out at her party, good.

“Why would you have even gotten up with Klaus though?” Inquired Bonnie, “Yeah, what did he offer you: Money, Power, Immortality?” Jeremy seconded. “Nothing, what he did do was tell me about his loneliness & I remembered the times I felt pushed out and I thought if others could give me grace after being tossed to the side, the least I could do is return it to others.” “Oh Boo Hoo.” Damon prodded in, “Klaus is making an army without asking any of the wolves if they want in.” “How-” Tyler began angrily and Rebekah’s feet began to stomp towards the table, which Elena & Bonnie had acknowledged by the look of intimidation on their faces, however you stood up very suddenly, determined to stand your ground “How’s Vicki? Did you make sure she wanted to be immortal? You know, after you gave her your blood & snapped her neck.” An uncomfortable silence filled that section of the bar. “Bonnie, how is carrying Anna’s death going? You know the woman your current squeeze was dating? How were all the vampires minding their own business going before you tripped up the device & caused so much disaster, that almost caused Jeremy to die? Wasn’t that because all vampires were the same?, a pity story after your Grams passed, yet you stand with Damon and have the audacity to lunge after me. And you two” Y/N pointed at Elena & Jeremy, “You two are cut from the same cloth. Jeremy you knew about Bonnie tripping up the device, killing Anna & yet you two are dating and Elena you complain about Klaus needing your blood for something so little as turning which is somehow so bad, yet when Katherine didn’t open her legs to welcome Damon, he snapped your brothers neck, yet you forgave him somehow. I’m not saying you can’t forgive him, but if you’re going to let Damon’s miniature things go, then you need to let Klaus’s go. I’m aware that Klaus isn’t the picture perfect idea of humanity you all want, but you keep excusing the darkness in your own supernatural partners, not to mention yourselves, so you have some nerve isolating me like I’m the only one lavishing in it. Stay the fuck away from me.” You grabbed Tyler’s hand and marched out of the Mystic Grill. “Nice work-“ Rebekah began, but in your angry mood, you marched right past her with Tyler in tow. “Rude” she muttered under her breath as she reached for her phone to tip off Klaus that whilst you’d blown her off, you finally grew a backbone.

You walked several streets in a huff before stopping to breathe, at that point, Tyler hugged you. “T-Tyler, are you alright?” You questioned, “Yeah, it’s just that you could see me getting angry and you stood up for me instead. You were so scared of being confronted by them, but you stood your ground to their faces. You may not have faced down a vampire or a wolf, but you Y/N are the bravest out of us all.” You smiled “Thanks Tyler” he leaned in & kissed you. You took a moment to let Tyler endulge before you began to kiss back, running your hands down Tyler’s back before you were slammed into the lamppost. Whilst you wanted Tyler, you didn’t want to be written up for public sex, so you broke the kiss “Let’s get back to Klaus’s and continue this there.” “But what about antagonising Caroline?” Tyler questioned, but you had your answer ready “I think we’ve antagonised her enough, besides she’d probably rub herself to your moans and shit, I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.” Tyler let a cold smirk cross his face, he knew you wanted to be fucked hard, and that’s what he planned to do. Deciding to test out Tyler’s compelling skills on a homeless person, you gave him the room Klaus had booked out & you both made your way back to The Mikaelson Compound. It was empty, so you & Tyler could fuck as loud as you could, so he sped you up to your room and as the door closed, Tyler slammed you up against it, kissing you passionately, the same as he did on the street, however this time, your clothes were removed with vampire speed. Standing there naked, Tyler took in your nude form with a twinkle in his eyes, you blushed slightly which made Tyler smile “You’re cute when you’re flustered Y/N.” Tyler commented and with that he began to undress as well, intending to take time so you could see the goodies under his clothes.

As he removed his shirt, Tyler pulled you in for a kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he deepened it. You began to feel around his shirtlessness, tweaking at his nipples which make the newly turned hybrid moan in your ear, the sound like molten gold to you. Suddenly you were thrown with all of Tyler’s might onto the bed, Tyler made sure you were looking up as he disposed of his pants and underwear in one go, his cock standing proud and hard. He began to walk towards you, cockily flaunting all the while “You want this dick don’t you Y/N?”, you nodded, but that didn’t appease the hybrid who sped towards you and gripped you by the neck, softly yet dominant “Talk to me Y/N, do you want me to fuck you all night?, have you crying my name as I make you cum from my stroke? Answer me.” He spoke the last part cooly as he playfully tightened his grip on your throat, making you feel a bit light headed “Yes Tyler, please fuck me as hard as you can.” You moaned out, making him laugh “As hard as I can? God this is gonna be good.” He laid his hand out, spitting onto it before stroking his hard member, coating it with the makeshift lube all the while looking at you all sprawled out, naked for him, and while he tried to maintain his cockiness, you could see from the ripples of pleasure on his face. Once he had lathered himself up enough, Tyler didn’t waste anymore time and used his newly acquired speed to to thrust deep into your ass, making you cry out at the sting. “Fuck, shit, your tighter than Caroline.” Tyler moaned out, you couldn’t even form words from how big he was and how he was stretching you out so right, all that came out was a mewling cry, which the hybrid smirked at. Rocking his cock deeper inside your tight canal, he began a passionate pace, looking down into your eyes as he fucked you deep so he could see how you crumbled apart for him, how desperate you were to take his dick. He locked you in another kiss again, moaning into it as you trailed your hands down his back, until he slammed in balls deep, colliding head first with your prostate, you cried out & instictively tightened your grip, sinking your fingers into Tyler. “Sink it in pretty boy, scratch down my back till you draw blood while I fuck you the way Vicki & Caroline could never handle, but you can, you fucking slut.”

The rough dirty talk emerged a desire in you to meet Tyler’s challenge head on. You dug in harder as Tyler cried out from the mix of pain and pleasure, all thoughts of Caroline and the confrontation gone, all you both wanted to do was chase down your orgasms. Your fingers began to feel a bit moist and you took them away from Tyler’s back to see you’d got him deep that there was blood dripping “Taste it” Tyler panted in your ear “Taste me Y/N, I know you want to.” With Tyler’s encouragement, you locked eyes with him drew your tongue across your fingers, tasting Tyler’s blood. You moaned out from his taste, knowing it would incense him into fucking you rougher and indeed, Tyler began to rock into you so hard that the bed began to slam into the wall with every thrust. ”God, this is amazing, keep this up and I’ll cum for you Y/N.” “Do it Tyler, cum.” Once again Tyler squeezed your neck “I’m the hybrid here baby, you’re the human, I control you, I won’t cum till you cum apart from my dick.” Tyler’s words were accompanied by a sharp thrust deep inside you, well and truly smashing into your prostate, the driving force combined with his words was what it took for you to reach your peak and crying out Tyler’s name, you came in spurts over yourself. “Fuck, that’s hot, seeing you cum for me. You want to taste me again?” You nodded and began to move your hands to Tyler’s back again, intending to leave new marks, but instead you were met by Tyler’s full force as he slammed your hands to the bed. Groaning and spluttering out of ecstasy, his body also rippling with the same energy, Tyler pulled out and with a few simple strokes let out a loud moan as he came all over you, splattering you with even more hot cum.

As he calmed down, Tyler wiped his hand in his load, covering his fingers with the sticky white substance and held it up to your mouth “Taste it” he said again, reminiscent of when he wanted you to drink his blood, except this time, there was a more erotic tone to his voice, he wanted all of his essence inside you. Never losing eye contact with the Lockwood, you licked across your hand, taking in his salty sweet seed, even sucking it off your fingers while moaning which made Tyler grin “Fuck, if people only knew how perfect you are.” He breathed out “I do” came a distinctive british voice that could only mean... “Klaus!” you both exclaimed as you looked over to see the hybrid standing in the doorway, watching you both with a smirk on his face “I thought you were at the hotel making Caroline sulk.” “No, you should have seen though, Y/N pretty much tore them all a new one” “I don’t doubt that, Rebekah texted me and told me about it. She also told me you’d left without talking to her.” He eyed you closely “I was in an angry mood” you tried to explain, but Klaus held his hand up to silence you and you obeyed his command. “I have to say nice technique Tyler, you wanted Y/N to take his fill you of you and that you did. But now I want you to step back” With the sire bond in affect, Tyler took several steps away from the bed, Klaus grinning at his power as he walked towards you and to your excitement began to strip his clothing off “You’re going to watch as I now fuck Y/N, cause while you know how to fuck, you don’t have a thousand years of experience to you. You can masturbate to us if you want, as long as you cum once we have.” Klaus stopped at the foot of the bed, Tyler nodding as he fisted his hardening length “Good. Now love” he turned his gaze to you “Tyler’s got you ready for me, like a good sweet progeny, ready for another hybrid cock inside you.” He palmed at himself and nodding, you threw yourself back on the bed, spreading your legs. Oh yes, this was the life.

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 16

A/N: This chapter is very Justin-centric. I felt like Addy and Justy needed a day where they didn't need to worry about boys or moms. Just a day to be kids. It’s kind of filler but I like it. It’s a light chapter. As always, feedback is always nice and much love. - Em 

Things were awkward between us for the next week. We had agreed to table the discussion about his dad and had come to a tentative understanding about Justin. We had never had a fight like that before so, we weren’t really sure where the lines were yet. I learned that his dad was a line you don’t cross unless invited. He learned that Justin was a line that was going to run parallel to our relationship, whether he liked it or not. Monty’s behaviour at school was different too. He was a little nicer for people to be around. Not Tyler Down, but I couldn’t really blame him. The kid was fucking creepy. Monty was even sort of polite to Justin.

By the following Monday, things had gone back to normal. Our texts were longer and less to the point. He was… well he was more Monty at school than he was for a few days. His friends didn’t seem to pick up on the change. But I did. He’s trying. I got dressed in in my comfy light wash jeans, because Justin and I were going to the mall after school and paired it with a light pink tank top with an old red and black flannel. The flannel had been sitting at the back of my closet for quite a while. I found it while I was going through and cleaning it out for donations. “Morning Dad.” I called as I heard him pass my room. He cleared his throat and grunted in response. He must have just woken up.

Downstairs, dad was making a cup of coffee while he read the paper. “Morning Addy.” He nodded when he heard me. Definitely just woke up. Grabbing a granola bar for breakfast, I went through and gathered up my books for school. Once they were neatly arranged in my backpack, I set it by the door. My book from last night was still sitting on the island. I took it and flipped it open to my last page since I had a little time to kill before leaving for school. Deciding I would get too lost in the book, I rethought and took it over to my bag to take to school.

“Justin and I are going to the mall after school. He needs help shoe shopping. And I need to grab a few replacement shirts. I had to throw some out that were too old.”

“Have fun. Don’t forget to grab your mom’s prescription on the way home.”

“I won’t. Do we need anything else while we are out?”

“No, we should be okay. I’ll text you if I think of anything today. Your mom will be late today too. One of her students needed to schedule an afterhours meeting.”

“Okay. See you later dad.”

“Bye.”

Justin was early today, which surprised me. At least until I noticed his duffel bag. He must have spent the night at Bryce’s last night. He was mingling with his friends. I waved as I passed them to my locker, not paying anyone much mind. I watched them a bit from across the hall. They were goofing off as usual. Justin’s smile seemed a little forced. I’ll talk to him after school. My eyes scanned the group. When they landed on Monty, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. And I will admit I may have possibly spent more time than strictly required, simply checking him out. It was during my perusal of his body that I noticed something familiar. A little too familiar. My eyes widened and I looked down. That… that’s… we are wearing the same shirt. Spinning around and opening my locker again, I ripped off the flannel and shoved it in my locker.

Casually making my way over to the group of boys, I made sure to rub my arms like I was cold. “Morning Justin. Morning Boys.” I shivered.

“Morning Addy.” Justin said, as he leaned in to hug me gently.

“Where’s my morning Addy?” Bryce smirked.

“Oh, I’m sorry Bryce. I must have forgotten we say morning to each other. Morning Walker.”

“Morning Addy. Are you cold or are you finally going to tell us all what your secret to doing well in school is?”

“I’m cold. And I’ve shared my secret with you before. It’s called actually opening the books they rent to us and reading them. Hey Justin, do you have an extra sweater? I spilled water on my other shirt like right after I left the house.”

“Yeah, I have one in my locker. Go ahead and grab it.”

“Thanks. Have I told you you’re the best lately?”

“Nope.” He laughed.

“Well, now I have.”

I was in a good mood when lunch rolled around. I nodded to Courtney in the hall on my way to the cafeteria. She was talking to Marcus about one thing or another. Tyler was watching Hannah in a way that had it been anyone else, wouldn’t have been weird. Clay was watching her too. I smiled and waved at him. He nodded back. “Hey Addison.” Tyler called. I turned around and he waved his camera at me. I waved my book in the air like I was busy but stopped for the student life photographer anyway. He snapped his photo and I continued on.

Since I was in a good mood, I didn’t even think twice about sitting with Justin and his friends. “Are we eating at the mall?” Justin asked when I sat down.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll have to stop at Baker Drugs on my way home though. Mum has a refill waiting.”

“Okay.” He nodded and bit into his sandwich. Jeff bounded over to the table.

“Guess who got above a C?” He asked, proudly.

“You?” Anders asked in response.

“Yup. Now I can finally make Clay make a move.”

“He’s going to hate it Jeff.” I said.

“I know. But he needs to put himself out there.”

“Make a move on who?” Monty asked.

“Hannah Baker.” Jeff replied. “Everyone knows he likes her.”

“I don’t really pay attention to the Jensen kid.” He shrugged.

“He hates dances.”

“I know. But a deal is a deal. I get above a C he goes to the dance. Are you going Addy?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, no.”

“Why not?” Bryce asked. I rolled my eyes.

“I hate school dances. The only not crappy part is that Tony is DJing.”

“You have to go. I’m going.” Justin begged with his mouth full.

I shook my head. What is it with boys not chewing their food? “I went to the last one. It’s Bryce’s turn to babysit you.”

“I babysat last time.”

“No, you didn’t. You were sneaking off behind the bleachers with your date. I babysat. Plus, I can’t tie a tie. And neither can Justin. Ergo, your turn.”

“Yes you-.” Justin started. I kicked him under the table.

“I’m not going to the stupid dance. Besides, I have homework.”

“Addison. The dance isn’t for like three weeks.” Jeff complained.

“I know Jeff. But I am not Clay Jensen. I have friends. I have a life.”

“Aren’t you friends with Clay?” Scott asked.

“Yes. So, I know he keeps to himself. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to the dance.”

“You’re not going to the dance yet.” Justin smiled devilishly. I rolled my eyes.

“Did you finish your English paper?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Did you?” He challenged. Monty choked on a laugh. Smooth. Bryce quirked his brow.

“Did you just ask her if she finished a homework assignment?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged.

“Yes, I did. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious. Since you’re on me about my homework.”

“Justin. The last time she handed something in late, was like seventh grade because she was out of school the day it was due.” Monty added.

“I remember. She had a stress rash because of it. How do you remember?”

He shrugged. “It had never happened before.” He noticed that? And thought it was important enough to remember? Thankfully before any more questions could be raised, the bell rang.

“I’ll meet you at my locker after school Justin.” He gave me a thumbs up before walking away, already in conversation with Zach about something.

Justin and I drove to the mall, singing along to whatever was on a Spotify artist radio. “Do we want a pretzel now or later?” I asked as I pulled my purse out of my backpack in the car. I had changed back into the flannel from this morning while I waited for my best friend at my locker.

“Now.” We said in unison.

Pretzels in hand, we wandered around the mall for a while. “I need some new shirts. I had to throw a bunch out because they were really old and not able to be donated.”

“You want opinions?”

“Of course.”

“Shoes first?”

“Sure.”

“DSW?” He shrugged and nodded. At the store, we headed straight for the men’s section. I pointed out a few pairs that seemed like they were his style. He made a face at the first couple of pairs and shook his head. Shrugging, I pointed out a pair of Nikes that were on sale. He gave me his best seriously look and I laughed. “They could be nice.”

“Yeah. If I want to look like my feet are three sizes bigger than they are.”

“You know what they say about guys with big feet though Justin.” He flipped me off. “What about these?” This time, he actually tried them on. They were not the right ones.

After a few more busts, we decided it was time to try a different store. Famous Footwear was having a sale. We stopped in there. Once again, we headed straight for the men’s sneakers. He tried a couple of pairs of Converse. Neither of us were very big fans. “White?” I asked, pointing out a pair of Pumas.

“No.” He shot down. I nodded and we kept looking. He picked up a pair of grey and white Nikes. “These are nice.”

“They are.” We found his size and he tried them on. “How do they feel?”

“Good.” He flexed his foot a few times before trying them out to walk. “Yeah, these feel good.” I smiled and we placed them back in the box to go pay.

Shoes in hand, we made a quick pitstop for coffee. Justin brought up the topic of the Winter Formal again while we walked around trying to find some shirts for me. “Are you really not going to go Addy?”

“No Justin. I don’t want to go. And besides, I have no one to go with.” At least, no one I can go to a school dance with.

“You can go with us.”

“Go with you and Bryce. And Bryce’s boys?” I quirked my brow, sharply.

“Yeah. We don’t bite. We are fun.”

“Fun. Sure.” I muttered.

“You could see Clay try to talk to Hannah.”

“Or I could sit at home and binge watch Pretty Little Liars.”

“I thought you said you had homework Addy.”

“You know that was just so Jeff would let my excuse slide. For now, at least.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.”

“If I say I’ll think about it, will you drop it?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Then I will think about it.” He made a fist pumping motion and I burst out laughing. “You are such a freaking dork.”

We stopped at Target and looked around the clothes-he wasn’t going to let me look at anything else-for a while. But nothing really felt like me when I looked at it or tried it on. American Eagle was a little better. I was able to at least find things I liked on the hanger and on me. “This?” I asked Justin when I came out of the dressing room in a soft purple shirt.

“It’s nice. Makes your boobs look good.”

“That’s always a plus.” I added it to the small yes pile. A blue one was next. He shook his head.

“Not your colour.”

“Didn’t think so.” A couple more noes were added to the pile before we checked out. Aritzia and Zara were close by, but I didn’t like anything on the rack enough to try it on. We made a quick stop at Madewell and I got a couple of plain white t-shirts.

“Can we make a Sephora stop? I need to replace my foundation.”

“We can if you give me your wallet, so you don’t spend all of your money.”

“I won’t spend it all. I literally only need a new bottle of foundation.”

“Alright. You have ten minutes to get in line tops.”

“Yes Dad.” I shook my head. Justin scoffed jovially. He followed close behind me in the store to make sure I stayed true to my word. They were out of my shade in my usual formula. I grabbed a bottle of my backup formula instead. By the time we were done, I didn’t even have the energy to make a stop at the bookstore. We decided to grab a slice of pizza to go instead of sitting in the food court.

Back in town, we stopped at Baker Drugs and got my mom’s prescription. I grabbed a box of gobstoppers for good measure and grinned at Justin. “Are you spending the night? We can do movies before bed as long as you aren’t a pain in my ass in the morning.”

“Sure. I’ll let my mom know.”

At home, I texted Monty while Justin was in the bathroom. Hey, Justin is spending the night for movie night.

Okay. How was shopping?

Good. I got some stuff.

Awesome. Enjoy your movies babe. Justin came back before I could reply. “Who you texting?”

“Just Zach about our Government assignment. Do we want snacks?”

“Of course, we want snacks.” Together, the two of us went downstairs and raided the cabinets.

“Hi Justin. Hi Addison.” Mum greeted as she came in the door.

“Hi Margot.” Justin replied.

“Hi Mum.”

“Make sure you don’t eat too much candy you two.” She chuckled when she saw us trying to stuff a box of Swedish berries in Justin’s sweater.

“We won’t Mum.”

“Yes Mom.”

I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave. Justin and I ran upstairs with our contraband. We both changed into comfy clothes and arranged our candy on my bed. When the microwave beeped, I ran back down to get it. Mum pretended not to notice me grabbing an extra chocolate bar. I heard her laughing with dad about it though.

“They really are quite cute together.”

“I suppose. Thankfully we don’t need to worry about them being another kind of cute.” Dad said. No, you really don’t.

Justin had Netflix pulled up when I got back to my room and shut the door. He was scrolling aimlessly. “I put butter on in the middle and the top.”

“Wonderful.” He grinned. “What mood are we in?”

“Superbad?”

“Addison! That is an R rated movie.” He exclaimed, scandalously.

“But it’s funny.”

“Superbad it is.” We got settled and hit play. After it was done, we scrolled through and picked The Social Network. Finally, just for fun to end the night… er, morning, we decided to watch the 2011 Footloose. Between the three films, we ate so much candy we knew we would wake up with stomach aches on Tuesday.

[tittty-bitty]

Nemuri struts from store to store like an empress gracing her presence on her citizens. Really it was businesses being graced with one of her clients limitless creditcards and her impulse shopping. Who ever invented financial domination was a mastermind.

“Come along darling! Just a few more shops then we can be done!”

“You know Miss Midnight, when you said you needed help with extra curriculars, I didnt think it would make me a pack mule for your personal spending habits.”

“Your still a pillar of peace! It’s just now you have a metal hook for me to hang my shopping bags on.”

She looked over her shoulder to see Yagi struggling with the shopping bags. Yagi isn’t weak by any means, even with out his quirk. She’s seen him spar with Shota plenty of times. Which is totally just two coworkers sparring for exercise Shota claimed, with no sexual tension at all thank you very much. But any one would struggle with that many bags, especially a man with only one lung.

They manage to make it into Gucci with out any lungs popping. Yagi sprawls on one of the ottomans with a poof and start to rub his wrists. She starts to look at the purses and leather belts. Not even glancing at the price tag before adding them to her haul. When she goes back to the waiting section she glances at Yagi. Who is scrolling away on his smartphone. Despite losing over 200 pounds of muscle, he was still an attractive man. Sharp cheek bones, piercing eyes, and such a sweet smile. His handsome features multipled when he gained more confidence in this form. Everyone could see after the truth was out about Allmight that he wasn’t comfortable in his true form. Scared to talk to other adults, skiddish and horrifically terrified of making mistakes. Not including how he obviously avoided reflections and wore only baggy outfits. But a year after his retirement and him making friendships with his colleges at UA, he finally started accepting himself and it’s amazing on the amount of progress he’s had. She’s so proud of her coworkers, especially her boys to make Allmight’s retirement less lonely. Even if one is especially passionate with the task but wants to be an edgy teenager about it.

Despite the progress the man made, he still didn’t know how to dress himself for shit. He may of got himself a few outfits that arnt 5X but he still loves to drown in his clothing. If she has to be assaulted with that damn yellow suit one more year she’s going to ask young Todoroki to set it on fire for extra credit.

If only he would wear clothes that actually fit him. Show off his long neck, his collar bones, long legs narrow waist, she could go on and on about why Yagi needs a new wardrobe. She needed to show the world how Yagi is still a fine ass man. She has checked him out countless times to be confident with that claim. There was one day where he had to actually put on pants that fit him way too well after a coffee spill and had to borrow some pants from mic. She doesn’t understand how a man so skinny could still have an ass. Nothing to go over the moon about but it was so cute, so perky for a man his age. It almost distracted her from the front, his buldge which is probably the one thing that stayed the same from his Allmight form. It was extremely hard to maintain eye contact with him that day. Not that she was complaining about the eye candy, the yellow sleeping bag that pretended to sleep on the floor didn’t seem to mind either.

While thinking about the potential of jokes about Yagi’s pillar of peace to bring up in front of Shota later, Nemuri comes across a sweater. The sweater was a high quality wool, cream colored with some green trim on the collar that goes down to a v. It would be perfect for his form, a little snug but still covered everything to start him off slow. The arms a little long for the average person but perfect for his long arms. The bottom might come up a little short though. Showing off his midriff when he reached up. Potentially showing a nice v of his hips, maybe even a nice little trail of blond that dips into his pants. Oh the thought of sweet little Yagi in a crop top is intoxicating. But baby steps. She needed him to trust her with fashion first before she tries anything to scandalous.

He was still reading on his phone when Nemuri grabs the tall man by the wrist and yanks him out of his seat. With a cute little yelp he is brought up to his feet and shoved into a changing room with the sweater being thrown at him.

“Your not coming out till you put this on.” Nemuri says as she chucks over some black jeans to go with it.

After watching awkward arms reach above the door and listening to the general struggle of a man menuvering in a changing room that doesn’t accommodate him, he steps out. His black blue eyes shine in contrast with the creme color of the sweater. Giving off a sweet older man who waters flowers in the community garden than his usual look of a man who got lost in a deflated blimp.

“Oh my god honey you look so sweet.”

He checks himself in a mirror and twists to see the back. She could see his ribs poking through the fabric wile it rides up his toned stomach not as much as she hoped unfortunately. But the fitting pants made up for it. Although they don’t show off his front for the sake of the students and people who actually want to get work done in the teachers lounge, it still shows off that cute little ass of his, and that’s all she can ask for.

Yagi actually holds his attention to his reflection of the mirror. Giving the look an actual chance. From the relaxed look in his eyes, he might actually like it.

“I never thought I would wear a wool sweater like this again. I forgot how warm and comforting they are.”

Nemuri comes up in front of him and adjusts the collar for him, opening it up a bit so his collar bones peek out a little. “I can’t imagine the amount of sheep needed to make a sweater for Allmight.”

He chuckles at the comment and how her nails tickle his chest, now used to her touchy nature. “It was in high school. My mentor forced them on me when she found out that my foster home didn’t try too hard to find winter clothes that fit me.”

He rubs the end of the sleeve to feel the texture, smiling slightly, reminiscing the memories he had with her when wearing the sweaters. It was always interesting to hear about his life when he was young. He was usually guarded when it came to anything about himself before his hero days, so to hear any little tidbit about him was to be met with a neutral yet encouraging reaction.

“Well I’ll be sure to make her proud by making sure that your fabric needs are taken care of.” Nemuri says while coming around behind him and placing her hands on his shoulders, admiring his smile in the mirror. “And I can make sure she rests peacefully by getting rid of that ugly yellow suit.”

He looks up from his sleeve. “Hey! I love that yellow suit!”

“You look like the noodle balloons that are outside of a car dealership. Im no longer letting my dear friend to walk around looking like a mustard bottle.”

Yagi takes the light roast with little grace with a small groan. He looks down at his wrist to look at the tag. He reads it with a puzzled look.

“I think we need to call an associate. I think they’re missing a decimal on the price-“

“Alright! Time to head out! I’ll meet you outside the store!” She shoves the bags in his hands, rip the tags off his wrist and waist and hurries to the counter.

“Ah. I can pay for my own clothes-“

“Nope! This is my treat! You can pay me back by meeting me at the car!”

Yagi looks at the minimum of 20 bags in his hands and accepts his fate. Trudging his way back to the car with the mini fortune in toll.

———

“Alright come on this is our last shop.”

“Ya no. I think I’ll wait in the car.”

“Dont worry, this place is very professional and no one will mention you being here. They are very strict about privacy. Also it will stop random men from asking me out.”

Yagi goes over the definition of professional in his head as he walks into a sex shop named “The Bimbo’s Boneyard”. It was suprisingly sleek inside despite the name. Defiantly one of the more higher end sex stores he’s been to. It was similar to a tech store with all the LED lights and plexiglass display boxes. It would be less weird if some of them didn’t have sex dolls that were determined to stare him down.

He decided to walk away from the display, trying to find something to look at with out actually looking at anything. His eyes catch a box with a cute little cat on it. He smirks a little. It reminds him of the stray cat that lives in the brush that’s on the way to campus from the dorms. He would give it pets every morning and eventually leave cans of food every morning. One morning he found a hunched black blob taking a nap on the grass. He was about to ask the obvious homeless man if he wanted his bento when he realized it was his coworker Aizawa. Sleeping on the cold ground at 5:30 in the morning with a cat that, while a sweet heart, was probably ridden with fleas.

“Excuse me sir, the food bank is on the other side of town.”

“I know but they were offering a cash prize for who ever found the dementia patient that ran away from his nursing home. Looks like I just found him.”

He chuckled at the memory. When their odd friendship really started to bloom. Not only with Aizawa, who while he was probably the closest too, took the longest compared to his other coworkers. He loved talking to Mic about classic American rock and fighting with him on how Nikki is so much better than Cardi. He loved trading tea with Thirteen as they go on about a new show Yagi has no clue what their talking about, but loves the passion. And Nemuri, who took pity on him the first day and decided to spoil him with attention and gifts that mostly ranged from sugar free candys and cute pens. It makes him feel like a toddler more than anything, but he thinks it’s sweet. He just never expected to have so many friends after Allmight was gone. He half thought if Nighteyes prediction didn’t kill him, then his loneliness will.

“My my my, I must say I’m surprised.”

Toshinori shook out of his self reflection and looked at his friend.

“I had my theories but I must say I never expected pet play from you. To think I thought you were just a vanilla cradle robber.”

He flushed with shock in confusion. Only to find that the box with the cat he was staring at for the past 2 minutes was for a bundle for a cat headband, a leash, mouth gag, and plug tail.

Absolutely horrified Yagi stammers to regain his reputation of role model rather than creepy old man. “Shit! No! No! I was just looking at the cute cat!”

“There’s no need to be ashamed, I am a professional after all. If you ever want to talk about that kind of stuff with me, I’m always open for questions.” She assured him calmly. “I’m gonna go to the check out if you want to look at the other options. I will say that you would look a lot better with the black ears.” She struts off with a few leather tools and some weird egg looking balls.

“There’s nothing for me to fucking look at because I’m not interested in that! Wait.. WHAT DO YOU MEAN CRADLE ROBBER?” He stomps off to catch up with her.

————

The staff Christmas party is filled with decorations, overworked teachers and spiked eggnog. Coworkers chatting and playing games as the snow falls outside. Yagi is chatting with Aizawa about how much Nezu is going to lose in poker after he demands people play with him. He takes a sip of his sugar free hot cocoa, very glad that his friends get a well deserved break.

“Merry Christmas Yagi!” Thirteen shouted as they shove a fancy bag in his face.

“Oh thank you Thirteen! I hope you didn’t spend too much on me.

“Oh no it wasn’t me!” Thirteen corrected. “Midnight was your secret Santa. She said she’s a little too tipsy to walk in her heels right now and asked me to give it to you.”

He looks past the smaller teacher and sees Nemuri in a tight red dress and tall stilettos. Giving him a wink when she notices him receiving her present.

He smiles and waves back at her. He pulls out the first item from the bag. An expensive looking cologne. He brings it up to his nose and gets notes of Cuban cigars and vannila. He sees a little tag attached to the bottle. With lovely cursive script it read “Garenteed to even get the angriest cats purr~”

He reads the tag as he hands the cologne to Aizawa. Shota sniffs the bottle and his eyes roll back a little bit. Obviously enjoying the scent.

“Wow she picked out something that matches your pretentious persona.”

“Maybe you can ask her to pick out some bar soap that you desperately need.” Yagi rebuttles without even looking up. Still trying to figure out what the tag ment.

“Is there something else in there? If not that’s a heavy bottle.” Thirteen comments before being passed the cologne to take a sniff.

Oh ya, maybe look at the rest of the gift before over analyzing the card. He opens the bag wider and is smacked in the face with realization on what the message ment. His blush going to his ears as he looked at the “Kinky Kat Play” bundle that he repressed from his memory. He looks up at Nemuri with shock as he finds her staring at him. Raising her glass with a smirk as she turns back to her pile of chips and angry, losing boss.

He shuts the bag quickly before Thirteen and Aizawa gets a chance to peek. “Ahhh ah. It’s a very personal gift that I don’t want everyone to know about.”

“Alright I understand.” Shota replies. He turns to Thirteen. “Thirteen get your hand vacuum ready.” The nosy prick demands as he lunges for the bag. Thank god for these stupidly long arms as he gets the bag out of Shota’s reach.

“It’s none of your fucking buisness you asshole!” Yagi cries as he goes on his toes as Shota climes him like a tree. Thirteen is giggling at their weird friendship while not helping anyone. Yagi would rather die than have the present be shown to his coworkers and worst of all Shota, who would NEVER let this go.

While he hates to do it, he’s desperate, and it has to be done.

The sickly man expands his diaphragm in such a way where when he coughs, he gets enough blood out of his mouth to put on a show. He makes a display of coughing and catching his breath. Blood covering his hand and dripping out of his mouth. He goes a little too far by making his hand shake but he needed extra sympathy points.

It seems to do the job as Thirteen rushes to his side to support him. “Shota you know you can’t be to rough with him.”

Aizawa stares at both of them in disbelief, then back at Yagi. “You are not seriously trying to play the sick old man card right now.”

Thirteen loops Yagi’s arm around their shoulders.“Shota you were to rough on him. The man has no stomach and only one lung. You should know better as a professional.”

“A professional knows when someone is faking when said person has no problem taking and dealing punches while sparring, but suddenly can’t handle a few grabs.” He cannot believe Yagi is trying to make an escape route by making Aizawa look like the asshole that beats up sick old men.

“You don’t need to defend me Thirteen.” Yagi says, adding a little tremble to his voice. “He just can’t handle losing to an old man. Could we go to the office? My nebulizer is in there.” The asshole making sure to add some pity coughs at the end.

“Of course Yagi.”

Shota stares openly in shock on what happening in front of him. Not only at Yagi’s pathetic stunt over something stupid, but Thirteens naiveté.

“A nebulizer treats asthma! Not bleeding lung asshole!” Shota shouts like an absolute child.

As he watches the duo walk, no sorry, LIMP to the office, he sees Yagi readjust his arm. To give an undeniable middle finger to Shota behind Thirteens head. The shameless bastard smiling back at him.

[woah-were-halfway-there]

The Most Stressful Time of the Year.

A/N: Just a little something I thought up over these past few days that is pure fluff. (And my first hockey player one shot, yikes, so please be nice) Hope you enjoy 😊.

Word Count: 2.1k

“Aus, hey.”

Although your boyfriend was partially aware that he was being called, he was too focused on his phone to even bother giving whoever was talking to him any attention.

“Auston?”

His brows furrowed as he read through his text conversations with you. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The two of you were talking about a possible date to the Toronto Christmas Market in the upcoming weeks before you wished him luck, and he had to put his phone away to get ready for the game in Philly.

It was a tough loss against the Flyers, and the entire team was in pretty low spirits because of it, but what threw Auston off, even more, was how when they were getting ready to leave the arena, and he finally looked at his phone again, there wasn’t a single notification from you.

He was almost positive it was nothing, but he’d grown accustomed to having at least one message from you as soon as he got off the ice. It was your thing. After every game, you would always say how proud you were and how much you loved him, regardless of the score. Auston appreciated it immensely, and although he had grown so used to such a small yet meaningful action, it still made the butterflies in his stomach flutter with affection. So, to not see a message from you after a game; made him worry a little bit.

You were in the midst of exam season at uni and up to your ears in homework, which was why you didn’t tag along for the trip to Philadelphia in the first place so that you could attend the game in Toronto the following night; maybe go to the Raptors game the night after. Before the game, you told Auston that you’d be up late finishing your assignments and would meet him at Pearson just like you usually did. What you didn’t tell him though, was just how exhausted you were with everything going on in life at the moment. Although he did ask you how you were doing on multiple occasions earlier in the day, you insisted that you were fine and made sure to not show how tired you were during a brief facetime call the two of you shared.

As soon as he dipped out of the dressing room, Auston called you. Again, it was something he always did after a game; but when he was instantly met with your voicemail… he was a bit confused. So, he sent you a text.

Auston

Heading to the airport now. Can’t wait to see you, x.

He couldn’t help but anxiously glance at his phone every time it buzzed with a new notification in hopes that it was you saying you’d gone to get a bite to eat or something. However, when the device dinged, and it wasn’t a message from you, his facial features would fall slightly, and he’d let out a sigh; gestures that didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates as they made their way through the airport terminal.

As everyone boarded the plane, Auston tried once more to call you, getting in the way of John and William as they tried to pass him in the narrow hallway. He didn’t realize at the time, but a few of the guys were watching as he began pacing and stressfully pushing his free hand through his hair once reluctantly hung up his phone after being met by your voicemail again. It was then they decided maybe someone should see what was going on.

Freddie was the one who decided to step up and ask what was up. But it still took him a few tries to actually gain his teammates’ attention.

“MATTHEWS!”

Jumping at the sudden outburst behind him, Auston was quick in whipping around to face Freddie. “Woah! What’s your deal?”

“My deal? What’s your deal? You’ve been acting weird since we left the arena. Everything alright?”

Auston sighed.

“You’re going to think it’s pathetic.”

“More pathetic than I already think you are?” Freddie quipped. “I’m kidding. Clearly, something is bothering you. What’s going on?”

With another sigh, Aus explained the situation. He said how he didn’t want to think much about it because maybe you were just busy with schoolwork, but there was also this weird feeling about it all that he couldn’t shake. What if something happened to you?

Freddie was able to see where he was coming from easily. He knew of yours and Auston’s cheesy antics, having seen it first hand since the two of you started dating, and to be completely honest, even he found it a little strange that no one could get ahold of you… especially Auston.

“That is a little weird, not going to lie.”

“I know,” your boyfriend huffed as a flight attendant came by to say they’d be departing soon and for them to please take their seats. “I’m probably overthinking it, but, ugh, I don’t even know…”

“It’s part of your routine, man,” Freddie reasoned. “You’re worried cause you’re not used to suddenly not hear from her, any of us would be if it were our girlfriend. But, we’ll be back in Toronto in a couple of hours. I’m sure she’s fine and will be there waiting to pick you up.”

“You’re right, thanks, man,” Auston replied with a smile before getting into his seat and trying to relax for the flight home.

As soon as the plane landed and he was able to turn his phone off airplane mode, Auston stared at his phone, hopefully, thinking it would light up with just one simple message from, but still nothing. His face fell immediately, growing even more anxious as he gathered his things and exited the plane.

You ended up not being at the gate waiting for him, and that made him feel even worse. Panicked even. So, he tried calling you again to make sure you were ok.

All he cared about at that point was knowing that you were safe. He couldn’t have cared less about you not picking him up or texting him after the game; right then, all he wanted to know was that nothing had happened to you, and all would be fine. But yet, he still couldn’t get an answer.

“Hey, she’s probably at home asleep or at the library studying or something,” Mitch spoke up from behind him. “I just got off the phone with Steph, she was talking to her earlier tonight. Said she was exhausted but had a lot to work to do, I’m sure she’s fine, Aus.”

I’m sure she’s fine. No matter how many times he was told that it was becoming harder for Auston to believe. However, there wasn’t much he could do while stuck at Pearson and you somewhere downtown.

“Yeah, um, I think I’ll just stop by her apartment… Don’t think she’d be at the library this late. Think I could catch a ride with you and Mo?”

“Of course, let's go.”

The three men made their way into the city as quickly as they could with the odd late-night traffic. Your apartment was a one-bedroom in the Church-Wellesley Village. It resided above a coffee shop, and even with its small size, you never complained, despite it being in a rougher part of Toronto’s downtown core when comparing it to where Auston’s fancy condo was. You found it after your first year of university as you were moving out of student residence and had stayed there since. However, after dating Auston for as long as you have, you pretty much lived with him and had plans to not renew your lease in the spring so that you could properly move in together.

But your apartment was near your school, so it made sense that you crammed yourself up there rather than at Auston’s with how early some of your exams could be, and how much you hated waking up for them. Also, that’s where you said you were when you and he talked earlier in the day.

You liked your apartment, to put it simply, and although you’d never admit it… you much preferred being at Auston’s when he was there as opposed to alone because it didn’t quite feel like home just yet.

When Morgan pulled up outside of your building, Auston was quick in grabbing his stuff and bolting. He muttered a quick thanks and goodbye to his teammates, saying he’d keep them updated, before digging the key you gave him out of his pocket so he could use it to let himself in. He made his way up the dingy staircase to the second floor and walked down to the hall to your door, taking a deep breath before opening it and hopefully seeing you on the other side.

But your apartment was dark and empty.

Auston could see indications that you were there at some point when he switched the light on, but after a quick look through the space, he determined you were definitely not there. But where could you be? It was too late for the library to be open, he was sure someone would’ve known if you’d gone to a friend from school to study… but no one knew anything. It was as if you had vanished.

He raked his mind for ideas of where you could be, and the only other place he could think of was his condo. Again, although you never admitted it, Auston knew you didn’t love being at his condo alone. He was determined to make it feel like home for you and things were definitely progressing in that direction, but you still hadn’t moved in fully and he was pretty sure you wouldn’t want to be there on your own until that happened. But he figured there was nowhere else you could possibly be, so that’s where he headed.

It was a short Uber ride from your apartment down to where his condo was, but for Auston, it seemed like ages. He didn’t make very much conversation with the driver, just the basic hellos and how are yous, all while his knee bounced anxiously and, he wished he could just get there faster.

As soon as he arrived, he was rushing through the building's front doors and to the elevators. It took dreadfully long for him to finally get to his floor before the doors opened again and, he hurried down the hallway to his unit. He was quick unlocking the door and pushing it open, before letting out an audible sigh when he was able to see inside.

You were completely passed out. Curled up on the large sectional in the living room, surrounded by various notes and textbooks with your laptop still open on the glass coffee table. The blinds on the windows were still open, showcasing the nights CN tower light show in the distance, while Sportsnet's late-night reruns of NHL highlights played on the flat-screen TV.

Auston couldn’t help but chuckle at himself over how worried he’d gotten, but also at his relieved he was just to know you were safe.

With a slight shake of his head, he dropped his things by the door, took his shoes off, and made his way over to you. He gently scooped you up off the couch bridal style, smiling as you unconsciously nuzzled into his chest, and carried you to the bedroom. He tried so hard to not wake you, but struggled in opening the door while making sure to not drop you in the process; ultimately resulting in you being jolted awake.

“Aus?” You muttered sleepily while knuckling at your eyes. “W-when did you get home? What time is it?”

“Almost 3am,” he replied with a soft smile.

“What!? I- oh my god, I thought I set an alarm to wake me up if I fell asleep. I didn’t even see the whole game.”

“Trust me, you didn’t miss much. Was worried about you though, couldn’t get ahold of you regardless of how hard I tried.”

“Oh,” you said quietly as he laid you down on the bed and tucked you in before beginning to strip down to his boxers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- oh shit, I was supposed to pick you up I-.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he chuckled as he switched off the light and crawled into the bed beside you. The loud yawn you let out as he pulled you into his chest didn’t go unnoticed by him, and he couldn't help his smile as you instinctively cuddle up against him. “I’m just glad you’re safe. Are you ready for your exam tomorrow?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Let’s get some rest then, yeah?”

“Deal,” you answered while letting your body gradually relax as you began falling sleep again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied and placed a soft peck to your forehead before holding onto you just a little bit tighter than usual, and eventually let himself drift off into a peaceful sleep as well.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Letters from your lover

A/N: I love Gee in The Ghost Of You... he’s so handsome. This is my second story posted in a few hours because I have so many drafts I need to finish which I am going to try and do before I start anything new. I have a bad habit of starting stories and no finishing them. Maybe a part 2 to this? I’m thinking about it, but let me know. Requests are still open! Pairing: F!Reader x 40s AU! Gerard Word count: 1687

The war was hard enough for everyone domestically. But when your fiancee was shipped off to war, it made everything even more difficult. You had begun working at your father’s shop, repairing bikes and such, as most of his men were shipped off as well. You were lucky to have finished your high school education before the war. There was no way now that any student would be able to finish, they would have been shipped off or put in factories and fields to work.

“Papa?” You called from where you were, your trousers has oil stains and grease on them, “Would you pass me the wrench?” “Here you are, darling.” He responded, giving it to you.

“Thank you.” You continued twisting and turning various areas of the bike, tightening some of them. You did that for another few minutes before getting up and sighing, looking at the completely bike. “That one done?” You father asked. You nodded. “I’ll check on it. Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” You smiled, going to find your mom. You walked into the office, not seeing her, so you turned down the hallway and into the main shop.

“Y/N!” You heard her voice echo, “What do you think you’re doing, young lady?” “Trying to find you.” You stated.

“We can’t have people see you dressed like that!” She exclaimed, “Do you know how much business your father could lose if people saw his daughter in these scrubby things?” You wanted to roll your eyes, but you prevented yourself.

“Of course, mother. I’m sorry.” She lightly smiled.

 “Now come back, you have some mail.” You followed your mother, who was in a form fitting blue dress, back to the office you were previously in where she handed you a letter with your name on it. You could identify that handwriting anywhere, it was Gerard’s of course. “Is it that wonderful boy you have?” She smiled. You nodded. “He’s a keeper, sweetheart.” You nodded at that too.

You placed the letter in your bag, waiting to get to your and his small apartment to read it privately. “Great job on the bike, kid.” You father entered the hall from the garage. “You can go home now.” “Thanks Papa.” You lightly smiled. “I love you.” You waved, going to the bathroom to change into a skirt. You quickly did so, anxious to get to the comfort of your home and read your lover’s letter, writing one immediately back to drop off tomorrow morning you knew.

You hastily walked, getting to your place in a short 10 minutes and walking up the flights of stairs, your small heels clicking with every step. You grabbed your keys, unlocking the door and immediately shutting and locking it behind you. You and Gerard by no means lived in the nicest part of town, but you afforded what you could.

That was one of the hardest aspects of him being gone. You always felt safe when he was at home, the mindless drunks at midnight below never used to bother you. The sounds of crashing glass never startled you. All because he was there. But he was gone now, until at least the ending of the war.

You put all your belongings down, stripping your aching feet of the high heels which you dreaded wearing day after day. Settling comfortably on your small sofa, you ripped open the letter, as always, he had neatly folded it into three sections. Unfolding it, you could already see his neat cursive, written in black pen.

Dearest Y/N,         How are you doing, love? I miss you more everyday, my fingers long for your touch, my ears for your beautiful voice, my lips for your kiss. The thought of you is keeping me sane.        I’m sorry about your parents and the job. Not that I expected any less from them putting you to work, but I understand it is difficult. I promise when I get back we can relax. Just the two of us. How does that sound? Maybe we can settle down, actually get married in a beautiful chapel. Or a garden maybe? A little less traditional... but it is really whatever you want, darling. I’ll buy us a house, I was thinking at least two bedrooms, a nice backyard. It’ll have the perfect kitchen for you to make your apple pie in. I miss your apple pie, not as much as you, but still. And then we can get a dog. A Labrador or Golden Retriever I’m thinking? Or am I going too far ahead... it seems I am.

You blushed at his words.

       The war is getting extremely difficult, Y/N. Everyday it tests us more and more. I’ve seen things that no man can unsee. It’s heart wrenching- war. Men fighting men over a disagreement. Granted this is different I suppose. We are fighting for not only our freedom, but the freedom of others as well.         I can not wait to come home. To be able to be with you yet again, hold you at night. I miss your scent of vanilla and roses, it’s become nearly intolerable to live without. And you’re so incredibly gorgeous, I keep your photo in my jacket pocket, the one over my heart. Quite cliche, I know, but it seems to fit so perfectly. I can’t wait to see you in the flesh... it would be even better if you were in that red number you got for my birthday last year (you know what I mean, love).

You blushed even deeper at the thought of that. The most untraditional and risqué thing you and Gerard had ever done before.

    Unfortunately my time to write has run up, sugar. I ache for you everyday I am away, but I can not wait for my arrival at home. I will be back for you sweetheart, I promise.            Love,                Gerard

Attached was a small drawing of you, as usual. It was quite realistic, done in the same pen as the letter was written in. It highlighted all your facial features that were dominant, even some of the subtle ones, and your smile. It was beautiful, you had to admit.

You smiled like a fool at the piece of paper, the words always hit deeper than you thought they could. You carefully folded the letter and small sketch back up, placing it in it’s original envelope, and placing that in a small basket you had of all the letters he had sent you.

Later on that night you were preparing yourself a small dinner. You turned on the radio to listen to a mixture of news and music. Swaying your hips to the melody, the music halted to a breaking news alert. You stopped what you were doing. The Germans have officially surrendered to the allies. The war in Europe has ended. Troops are to be sent home over the course of the next few days. Your mouth feel open, a small smile curving at the edges. He’s coming home.

-Time skip- It only took a few days for Gerard to be shipped home. You awaited patiently at the crowded peer, shoulder to shoulder with parents, lovers, and families. Finally, a large boat of men pulled up, letting all of them go. You immediately began looking for your raven hair boy.

It took you a few minutes before you found him. His strong facial features sticking out amongst the crowd, as you could see he too was looking around, presumably for you. You noticed how he had become more muscular, his torso now more of a triangle shape then a square. Granted it had been a year.

Your lips grew to a smile as you dodged people walking up to him. Within a few minutes he looked to see you, a large smile growing on his face as he began running to you, you following. Once within arms reach, he grabbed your entire body with his arms, tossing you in the air and spinning you as you squealed. He finally let you down, both of you still smiling. He gave you a kiss, your lips connecting like two puzzle pieces. It was soft and needy, you running your hands up and down his shaven face, his hands moving along your hips and waist.

“I missed you.” He finally said, letting go of the kiss.

“I missed you too.” You smiled, looking at him, your hands and arms still intertwined behind his neck. He placed his forehead to yours and let out a soft sigh.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

“And you’re so handsome.” He lightly laughed.

You two had talked and laughed, him holding you in his arm, all the way home, until you hit the small hallway that led to your apartment. “Wait,” You said, Gerard turning towards you with a confused look on his face. “Close your eyes.” “Why?” He asked and lightly smiled.

“Just do it.” He sighed.

“Fine.” You could see him partially close his eyes, only partially.

“Really?” You asked and he lightly laughed. You stepped on your tip toes, your heels not assisting you, and covered his eyes with your hands. “I should’ve brought a blindfold.” “This is just find, sugar.” He smiled, running his hands up and down your arms. Once inside, you released your hands, letting him see.

“You made it?” He smiled even wider. You nodded.

“Of course.” You said, “I know apple pie’s your favorite.” He leaned in and gave you another kiss.

“You’re the best.” He mumbled in between his soft lips touching yours. He gracefully picked you up, placing your legs around his waist, and moving his mouth to the sweet spot on your neck, making you lightly moan and throw your head back.

“Gee,” You moaned out.

“Yes, darling?” He stopped looking at you. You looked down and lightly smiled, running a hand through his neatly done hair.

“Can you at least take a shower?” He immediately frowned, huffing in defeat.

“Fine.” He sighed, setting you down. “But we are continuing this right after.” He ran out of the living room and down to the bathroom and you giggled.

[singledarkshade]

Days Like This

Summary: Gideon's new circumstances are sinking in, but the doctor coming to see her may help. Sequel to Can I Return This Gift Author’s Notes: Second part of my Chuck AU – more will be written but doubtfully in any order.                                ********************************************* Gideon Ryder lay on her bed listening to her brothers in the other room making breakfast and talking over the news, trying to force herself to get up and face the day because two days ago, everything in her world had changed.

Her former best friend, Miranda Coburn, turned out to have been a rogue Argus agent who sent Gideon an email filled with secrets that were downloaded into her brain when she looked at the computer screen.

Now Gideon not only had the information appearing at random times, she had two Argus agents watching over her at all times. One of which had been very fixated on killing Gideon not that long ago.

“You know you start work in less than an hour,” Gilbert called through the door, “Hurry up or you’ll be late.”

Sighing Gideon fell out of bed and headed for a shower before sliding on her uniform, it was time to face the day.

Stepping into Palmer Tech, Gideon winced to hear Ray call to her. He was the nicest manager anyone could ever have but he also left the team to their own devices a lot so he could work on his projects. But if he talked to you then he usually wanted something.

“Good morning, Ray,” she turned to him with a smile, hoping he wasn’t upset she was late.

“Hi, Gideon,” he nodded, “We have a new member of staff and although they’re not for the crew, I know you’re the best person to train her.”

Turning Gideon froze to see Sara Lance, Argus Special Ops, standing there, dressed in the black trousers and red t-shirt that the Palmer Tech sales team wore.

“Meet Sara Lance,” Ray introduced them, not noticing the look of astonishment on Gideon’s face, “Sara, Gideon knows the store better than anyone so I will leave you in her capable hands.”

With that said he disappeared into the manager’s office.

“Well,” Gideon started, trailing off as Sara frowned at her.

Sara motioned her to walk and Gideon reluctantly followed the other woman towards the empty AI Crew desk.

“Here’s the deal,” Sara got straight to the point, “Rip and I are here to protect you until we work out a way to get all our secrets out of that head of yours.”

Gideon nodded, “Okay.”

“So, I am stuck here in this…” she grimaced in disgust, “Pathetic sales job while Rip will be playing your boyfriend.”

Feeling her eyebrows raise into her hair, Gideon squeaked, “Boyfriend?”

“Well, your friend already saw you two go on a date,” Sara rolled her eyes, “So it won’t be such a stretch. This means you do as we say, when we say it and any time you have a flash, you tell one of us.” When Gideon said nothing, Sara demanded, “Understand?”

Gideon nodded.

“Good,” Sara replied, “Who do I get around here to do my work for me?”

Shrugging Gideon noted, “Probably Nate.”

Sara nodded, “Great. Oh, and one more thing,” she gave Gideon a dark look, “Make sure you follow the rules, don’t make me regret being nice.”

With that said, Sara disappeared to join the other red shirts leaving Gideon watching her back.

 Lunch finally came and Gideon headed out to the café across from the shop to get something to eat. Grabbing a chicken salad, Gideon headed out surprised to see Rip standing waiting for her. He was wearing dark jeans and a grey t-shirt under a brown leather jacket with sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Hi,” Gideon smiled despite herself, “What are you doing here?”

“I thought we could have lunch together while we go over our story,” Rip explained.

Gideon nodded, “Okay.”

Resting his arm around her shoulders, Rip drew her to the picnic tables on the edge of the park just behind the shop. Taking a seat Gideon smiled when he placed a soda next to her, her favourite kind. He placed one for him before he pulled out a sandwich for himself.

“I’m assuming Sara has already spoken to you,” Rip noted, “And I understand that it might be a little uncomfortable for you, but I promise there will be nothing untoward.”

“Rip, you have to understand I have not been in a relationship for a long time,” Gideon told him, “My brothers will be all over me to find out about you, they’ll demand to meet you and will try to intimidate you.”

“I’m not easily intimidated,” he gave a small amused smile.

Gideon chuckled.

“We have a doctor coming tonight to do some tests in the hope of removing the secrets from your brain, then you can get rid of us for good,” Rip told her, “So I will pick you up for date at eight tonight.”

                                 *********************************************

 Zari smirked as she leafed through Gideon’s closet, “Second date with your new guy. Are we going for sweet and innocent or sexy and seductive? Or did some things happen on your first all night date you won’t talk about?”

“I am going for comfortable,” Gideon replied, pulling out her favourite green top, “And nothing happened.”

Taking the top out of Gideon’s hand, Zari replaced it with a black one with lace sleeves, “This is a date top,” Zari told her, “That thing is for clearing out the cupboard with your brothers. This guy is hot and likes you, so maybe make an effort.”

Gideon watched Zari turn back to the closet before she shook her head sadly, she hated how excited Zari was that she’d met someone. The annoying thing was Gideon had liked Rip, and she thought they had really clicked except they hadn’t.

“Are you going out?” Gilbert asked appearing through the door, Gary following behind.

Gideon nodded, “I have a date.”

“Is this the same guy you were out with all night at the weekend?” Gary demanded.

Taking a long sigh Gideon nodded, “Yes, and before either of you try to be the overprotective big brother, don’t.”

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy,” Zari spoke up, instantly getting a dark frown from Gideon when the two men turned to her sharply.

Pushing them out of the room, Gideon stated, “No.”

“We should get to meet this guy,” Gary tried to protest as they were shoved out the door, “Just to make sure…”

“I will break every one of your computers if you even think about finishing that sentence,” Gideon threatened, “Now, go away. I am getting changed then going out.”

Shoving them through the door, she slammed it before either could say anything else.

“Don’t say another word,” Gideon stopped Zari speaking, before she snatched the top out of her friend’s hand.

 Gideon felt her mouth go dry as Rip drew up in front of the building in a gorgeous black convertible giving her a smile when he stopped.

“Are you ready?” he jumped out and opened the passenger door for her.

Nodding, she slid in and watched him close the door before returning to the driver’s seat and drove them away. Gideon wished briefly that this really was a date, that instead of going to see some kind of doctor they were heading out for dinner or the cinema or anything fun, but they weren’t.

As handsome, interesting and sweet as Rip had been, it had been an act, so Gideon had to accept that - despite the appearances he’d made in a few of her dreams.

She frowned as Rip drew up at the store she worked in, “You really know how to show a girl a good time.”

He chuckled, “We’re using the Home Cinema room for the tests, we didn’t want to expose you to an Argus facility.”

Relieved by that thought, Gideon didn’t notice Rip get out the car until he opened her door and offered his hand to help her out. Taking his hand Gideon felt Rip squeeze it briefly.

“Okay,” he said as he led her to the curtained off section of the store, “You have no need to worry about this. It’s just a few non-invasive tests, Sara and I will be here the entire time.”

Taking a seat on the couch, Gideon put the headphones on as Rip directed and turned to look at the screen. Rip disappeared leaving her alone and Gideon wished he was still there.

“We’re going to start now,” Sara’s voice came suddenly, “Alright, there are going to be some images on the screen. All you have to do is say what you see.”

Shrugging, Gideon leaned back and started to talk.

 On the other side of the store Rip stood with Sara and Dr Wells, all listening to Gideon recite the secrets she had in her head as pictures were shown to her, her voice altered so he couldn’t identify her in any way. The man they’d brought in listened a look of amazement on his face, while Sara made sure he didn’t try to meet his patient.

“Well, Doctor?” Rip asked as the test ended.

Wells shook his head, “Incredible. We theorised that someone could hold that type of information in their head but all the tests we did showed it would be one in a million. The fact Patient X is not only storing but able to access these so well is astonishing.”

“But can you remove them?” Sara demanded.

Sighing Wells shook his head, “No,” he quickly held up his hand to stop them snapping, “At least not just now. The Intersect project was a specialist team and none of us worked on removing the information until we knew how to put it in.”

Rip frowned, disappointed for Gideon. But even though he knew Sara hated being here, Rip actually didn’t mind it. Central City was one of the more peaceful places he’d been sent to and, so far, this protection detail was one of the easiest.

Wells pulled together his things, “I will speak with Director Waller and perhaps next time, I’ll get to meet my patient.”

“I’ll see you out, Doctor,” Sara said, nodding to Rip before leading the other man out.

Rip headed back to where Gideon was waiting for him. The moment he opened the curtains, she looked round and her grey eyes looked at him hopefully. Taking a seat at her side, Rip took Gideon’s hand.

“I’m guessing the answer is no,” she said, looking down at his hand for a moment.

Rip sighed, “It’s not no, just not yet.”

“So, until then…”

“Until then,” he said when she trailed off, “You work with us and we will keep you safe.”

Sadly she nodded.

Against his better judgement, Rip wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her, “It’s going to be okay.”

                                 *********************************************

 Rip connected his comm to the TV screen in his new apartment and waited as it activated. A few seconds later Amanda Waller, Director of Argus appeared.

“Ma’am,” Rip nodded.

“Agent Hunter,” she stated, “Dr Wells has given me his report and it looks like you will be remaining in Central City indefinitely. Agent Lance will be joining us soon, but I wanted to speak to you first.”

Rip winced inwardly knowing exactly what this was about.

“Due to your personal history and connection with Agent Coburn,” Waller continued, “I want to know if you can do this job.”

Taking a slow breath Rip replied, “I can do whatever I need to. You sent me to protect the Intersect and I will do that to the best of my ability. Miranda betrayed not only the agency I took an oath to but everything I believed in.”

“Very well, Agent Hunter,” Waller nodded, “Your priority above and beyond everything else is Gideon Ryder. Her safety and her well-being, including her mental health is your main concern. The Intersect must be protected.”

Rip nodded just before Sara appeared on the other side of the screen.

“Agent Lance,” Waller nodded to her, “How are you settling into your new apartment?”

Sara’s distaste was obvious, “Just fine, Ma’am. I have the surveillance of the asset installed fully both in the apartment complex as well as the store.”

“Excellent,” Waller told her, “I know you usually both work for different departments, but you have been chosen for this assignment due to your unique skillsets. I expect you to work together to ensure the asset is protected.”

They nodded in agreement and the screen went blank. Alone once more Rip dropped to sit on the couch and pulled out his phone, flicking through the photographs of him and Miranda. They’d met the first day of training and were instantly paired together, when they finished training and were sent out into the world, they made sure to stay in touch. Meeting up whenever they were close to each other, and Rip loved her.

Finding out she had betrayed them to steal the Intersect had cut so deeply, and it was one of the reasons he was going to protect Gideon Ryder.

Because he wouldn’t let Miranda’s betrayal destroy anyone else.