#woke up to half the kitchen cabinets in completely new arrangements and never even a courtesy just letting u know we moved things

[dragonji]

ok so like. is it too much too ask for a heads up when entire areas of the living space you pay rent for is rearranged by your roommates or am i just a freak weirdo with control issues.

[emmyhem]

stormy fears & feelings (l.r.h)

a/n: hey everyone! here’s “stormy fears & feelings”, this is a nonfamous au with roommate!luke. (unedited as usual) this was really fun to write, i intended for it to be short and sweet but i ended up writing for longer than i had originally planned. anyway, i hope you enjoy and are having a great day/night/whatever. i appreciate any and all feedback, and as always my messages are always if you want to chat or anything :) thank youuuu - emmy <33

pairing: roommate!luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: a thunderstorm leaves you awake and scared, and going to your standoffish roommate, who you happen to have an extremely inconvenient crush on for comfort may be your only option to get a good night of sleep. 

warning(s): cursing, extremely minor injury, minor angst if you squint

word count: 5k

It really was an awful idea. In any other case it wouldn’t have even crossed your mind, but you had been on edge all week for no specific reason and thunderstorms had always spooked you. 

The storm had started unexpectedly. If you had known earlier you would have ran to the store to buy Nyquil before going to bed, but with it sneaking up on you, you were huddled under your blankets, eyes squeezed impossibly tight in hopes to drown out the loud crashes and blinding flares of light flooding your bedroom window. 

When the thought originally passed through your head it was more of an internal sarcastic remark than a possible solution. 

 I mean, you had been living with your roommate, Luke for over 4 months now, but you weren’t really friends. You would occasionally chat with him if you were both up and about around the apartment, which was pretty rare seeing as Luke seemed to avoid you for the most part. Hurrying out of a room when you entered, ending conversations quickly, and always being conveniently busy when you had attempted to make plans to get to know each other better. Your living arrangement had only come to be because you had heard through a friend he was looking for a roommate at the same time that you had happened to be on the lookout for a new place. Your relationship consisted mainly of half-hearted greetings and subtle avoidances of each other. So, going to him for comfort wasn’t a viable option to soothe your nerves. 

Even if you did, what would you expect him to do? 

Sit up with you? No, not when you knew he had to wake up early for work. 

Talk you down? He wouldn’t even know what to say in the first place, your typical conversations were made up of checking if there was still coffee, or deciding whose turn it was to do the dishes. 

Offer up a space in his bed? Absolutely not. That was the most unthinkable of them all. If it wasn’t for the fact that Luke had always seemed pretty adamant with his personal space, sometimes tensing up if you even sat too close to him on the couch. Your annoying and inconvenient crush that had started the day you moved in, just wouldn’t allow the two of you to be in such close quarters without your heart racing and your head dizzying.  

It was out of the question, end of discussion. 

With that being said it only took one more boom of thunder to have you shoot up from your bed and pad quietly into the hallway, with fuzzy sock clad feet and a large quilt wrapped tightly around your shoulders. 

You stared at his bedroom door hesitantly until the next strike, during which you knocked ever so lightly and muttered a soft,

 “Luke,”

After a minute and no reply you resorted to giving up on your plan and heading to the kitchen to drink a cup of tea, in hopes it may help. The idea was good enough, but you had failed to consider the noise that comes along with it. And as if the whistling of the kettle and clattering of the mugs wasn’t enough, the next roar of thunder sent you into a shock causing you to stub your toe on the corner of the cabinet and let out a pained yelp. You quickly slapped a hand over your mouth and sunk to the floor to assess the damage as you heard rustling and a door opening from the hall. 

Luke was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds, his long legs carrying him there within just a few steps. He hit a light switch, causing the kitchen to glow a dim yellow. 

“Y/n, you alright?” he grumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he approached your crouched position on the floor. 

“Yea, yea I’m okay. Sorry, I woke you up.” you responded, mentally kicking yourself for causing such a disruption. 

“S’alright. What’s goin’ on? Why are you up?” he spoke, offering you a hand to pull yourself up. 

You accepted it, trying your hardest to ignore how warm it felt, and how easily it enveloped your own as you returned to your feet. 

“Uh, I just had a hankering for chamomile.” you lied. You really should’ve thought this through. Now that he was standing in front of you, admitting your fear of thunderstorms seemed daunting. You were an adult for chrissakes, an adult that was left shaking at the mere thought of a considerably common weather phenomenon.  

His eyebrows tugged in confusion as he glanced between you and the kettle. 

“Did you knock at my door a couple minutes ago?” he questioned as you watched the window over the sink nervously. 

Your eyebrows raised a bit at the inquiry.

“Thought I heard something, but then I figured I must’ve just imagined it. Y’know, woken myself up.” he continued. 

“Um, yep that was me.” you admitted, turning your back to him in hopes to hide your embarrassment. 

“So, was there a reason, or?” 

“Right, yea a reason.” you paused, searching for an excuse in your drowsy and distracted brain. “I wondered if you wanted a cup.” 

“In the middle of the night?” your subconscious deadpanned as your face scrunched in displeasure. 

You turned back around to face him, holding a mug out for him. 

Confusion and a glint of amusement was painted across his features as he spoke, 

“You wanted to know if I wanted a cup of tea,” he peeked at the clock behind you. “at 2:30 in the morning?” 

As you opened your mouth to defend your admittedly bad excuse another crash of thunder rumbled from the sky, causing your body to jump in fear and your hand to release its grip on the ceramic mug. Luke took a step back just in time as it shattered to pieces on the floor. 

You brought two shaky hands to your face and pressed yourself against the cabinet, cowering as far back as possible. 

“Hey, s’okay. It’s just thunder.” Luke said, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

You peeked out through your hands before dropping them from your face all together. 

Realization sparked on his face as your eyes met his. 

“Are you afraid of thunderstorms?” Despite his tone being soft, sweet even, you were sure he was making fun of you. 

“I-uh, no. No I’m not.” you rushed out, attempting to push past him and scurry into your bedroom. 

“Y/n, the glass.” he warned, his grip on your shoulder tightened, not allowing you to move. 

“Was that why you knocked earlier?” 

You nodded, hesitantly your eyes dropping to the floor. 

“I don’t know why, I just- thunderstorms have freaked me out since I was little and I normally would take something to help me fall asleep, but I didn’t have anything and...I shouldn’t even have tried to wake you up in the first place, there’s nothing you could do and we aren’t even friends or anything. Probably don’t even like me, I mean you can hardly even stand to be in the same room as me. Anyways I’ll be fine, lemme clean this up and then i’ll just head to my ro-” you rambled, not even pausing to take a breath. 

“You think I don’t like you?” he interrupted. 

Fuck. Was the scare so intense oxygen had been cut off from your brain? Why would you say all that? He didn’t need to know that you took notice of the fact that he avoided your company like the plague. 

Instead of responding you opted for grabbing the dustpan, the sooner the floor was clean the sooner you could get back to your room. Where you would sit awake in fear, by yourself for the rest of the night, no doubt replaying this embarrassing interaction over and over again. 

Luke stood seemingly frozen as you kneeled down beside him attempting to gather the broken shards, which was proving to be difficult with such shaky hands. 

With another bolt of lightening your hand shuddered and slipped from the brush, hitting a shard and slicing a thin cut on the pad of your pointer finger. 

“Shit” you hissed, dropping the dustpan to examine the tiny gash. 

Luke’s head snapped in your direction, eyes immediately filling with concern. 

“Ow” you whined quietly. 

He dropped down next to you and took the finger into his hands. 

“You should clean this out, I’ll finish this up.” he nodded to the remaining glass. 

“I can get it.” you protested. “You should get to bed, you have to work tomorrow.” you continued, making your way to the sink. 

“So do you.” he responded flatly, already finishing up cleaning as you looked around for a band aid. When you finally located the box of bandages Luke was behind you. 

“Lemme see.” he said, taking one from the box while he examined your finger. 

You watched his face intently as he carefully wrapped your cut with squinted eyes and a small pout. 

You had never seen Luke during the night. There was a certain softness to him that was completely foreign to you, one that made the thought of cuddling into him seem far too appealing for your liking. 

“I do like you, y/n.” he broke you out of your thoughts, uttering it so quietly you thought you may have imagined it. 

You nodded in acknowledgement, not knowing how to respond without further embarrassing yourself. 

“I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t” 

At this point he had finished bandaging you up which made the fact that he was still standing a mere inches apart from you with his hand wrapped around yours, all the more affecting. 

“M’sorry I even brought it up, I’m just tired cause of the storm, and apparently I lose a filter with no sleep.”

His hand lightly squeezed yours as you spoke, and the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as he did so told you it was time to go back to your room. You gingerly tugged your hand away, ignoring the way Luke’s expression faltered when you did. 

“I’m sorry again, about all of this. You should get some sleep.” 

“Will you be able to?”

“I’ll be fine, one night of lost sleep is hardly the end of the world.” you responded, taking a step towards the hallway. Luke caught your arm before you got far. 

“Yea, but you lose your filter when you're tired, you said it yourself.” A small grin grew on his face as he continued. “Can’t have you spilling all your secrets tomorrow.” 

Was he joking around with you? 

Before you could stop it, a pleased smile appeared on your face. This was new. You didn’t even know he had a sense of humor, he had never attempted to share it with you before. 

“I’m sure I can control myself.” you returned, attempting to go once more. Of course, his voice stopped your movements within a second. 

“Y/n, let me help. How can I help?” 

The plausible reasoning for his sudden generosity was that he was feeling guilty or maybe even embarrassed that you were under the impression he didn’t like you. But that didn’t stop your entire body to warm at the offer. 

“There’s really not much to do.” you started. “I think the only reason I knocked in the first place is because I’m used to having some company when I get scared. Big family, y’know there was never a shortage of beds I could crawl into.” 

“Company!” he repeated, eyes lit up. “I can do that. I have it on very good authority that I’m an excellent cuddler.” 

Your body froze at his words. He couldn’t be serious, right? There’s no way he had any interest in that, even if it was just for your sake. 

He must’ve noticed your tenseness at the proposition because before you got a chance to respond, a bright red blush overtook his cheeks and he squeaked out, 

“Or the floor, I could always take the floor. I mean company can be just my presence in the room, I guess. If you want.” 

“No. I mean-um, I could go for a cuddle.” you heart answered before your brain got the chance to interfere. 

He smiled at you warmly. 

“Alright then.” 

You had never been into Luke’s room before, I mean not really. Sometimes you would sit his laptop in there if he had left it out or lay a sweatshirt of his on the foot of the bed but you had never actually been inside. It was slightly messy, there was a pile of clean, unfolded laundry on a desk chair, and a few empty water bottles scattered around but for the most part it was clean. On his bed the blankets were strewn about from where he must’ve been sleeping earlier, a pile of pillows stacked high on the right side, and it could’ve just been how tired you were but you had never wanted to crawl into a bed more. 

“I like your room.” you whispered, as he spread the pillows out more evenly across the top of the mattress. 

“Why’re we whispering?” 

“It’s nighttime.” 

“Y/n, we’re the only people who live here and we’re both awake.” he teased, laughing while shaking his head. 

“Oh, right.”

He gestured a hand to the bed, “Ladies first.” 

Hesitantly you sat, your back pressed against the mound of pillows Luke had compiled for you, shortly after he took a seat next to you, leaving a few inches of space between your legs. You looked down to your lap, aware of how awkward of a position the two of you were in, neither knowing how to go about this. Luke spoke first, 

“Are you warm enough?” 

“Yea, thanks.” 

“Mhm,” he hummed in response. “Do you wanna watch something?” 

“M’pretty tired.” you replied. “We should probably just go to sleep.” 

“Yeah, right.” he nodded, watching you. 

It seemed he was waiting for you to get comfortable, like he didn’t want to push any boundaries that you weren’t ready to cross. 

Unsurely you scooted your body down in the bed till you were fully horizontal, took one more glance at Luke and then turned your back to him, pulling the duvet up over your shoulders. With his blanket pulled up just under your nose you subtly breathed in the pine and vanilla aroma that you recognized as his body wash. You’d never admit to it but occasionally you’d spend a little extra time in the shower inhaling the fresh scent. 

A dip in the mattress told you that Luke had laid down and within a few minutes you were sure he was sleeping again. You were feeling a bit more calm, trying your hardest to ignore every loud crash of thunder and instead focus on counting the seconds between each soft breath Luke exhaled. 

Just as a drowsy haze began to come over you, straining your eyelids and fogging up your brain a particularly alarming rumble broke the silence causing your body to jerk and your breath to catch. Luke grumbled quietly beside you and you could feel him rolling around. As you opened your mouth to apologize for waking him a warm hand slipped just under the hem of your shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto the bare skin of your hip. Your body tightened at the unexpected contact and you strained your neck to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Luke,”

“Go to sleep, m’right here.” he mumbled without even opening his eyes. 

You faced back around but placed a hand over his and removed it from your body. This must’ve worried Luke because he pushed himself up on his elbow, eyes blinking open as you turned to face him. 

“Was that not good? I’m sorry, I’ll keep my hands to myself.” he rambled through a defense. 

“No,” you shushed, pressing a hand to his chest to lightly push him back down. “s’good.” you assured while pulling his arm over your body as you tucked yourself into his chest. Your bodies were completely flush in this new position. “This is better.” you murmured, your nose bumping his chest as you made yourself comfortable. 

He hummed softly in agreement, his hand finding its way to your hair, cupping the back of your head. 

Sleep was sweeping over you fast like this, the sound of Luke’s heartbeat drowning out any daunting noise coming from outside. Not to mention that anytime your body so much as twitched Luke’s arms would tighten around you ever so slightly as if to assure he was still there with you. 

When the sun had risen you woke up to the sound of soft snores, and the feeling of tiny puffs of air on your forehead. As you tried to roll over and stretch your limbs you found your legs were tangled with someone else’s and your cheek was practically glued to the faded grey cotton that adorned your roommate’s chest. 

“Luke.” you called, using your hand to shake him awake.

“Shh” he whined, repositioning you both so your back was snug against his chest. 

“We have work.” you mumbled, trying to squirm out of his hold. It proved ineffective as he just tightened his arms around your stomach. 

He grumbled something incoherently that sounded an awful lot like “No, stay with me please. So warm.” but that couldn’t have been it. Right? 

Afraid he would dig himself further into this hole of sleepy deliriousness, you began to rouse him, prying yourself out of his arms and promising him a hot cup of coffee if he met you in the kitchen within ten minutes. 

You quickly washed your face, brushed your hair and teeth and made your way to the kitchen to fix two cups of coffee. Luke stumbled out of his bedroom just a few minutes later, his eyes squinted under the natural light flooding the windows and he seemed to almost glide across the tile until you and his coffee were in arm’s reach. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” you greeted in a teasing tone, pushing the mug across the counter to him. 

He hummed and took two large sips before turning his attention fully to you. 

“G’morning, did you sleep okay?” 

“Yeah, I actually did.” you affirmed. “Thank you for everything last night, Luke.” you rested your hand over his on the countertop, squeezing it once lightly to express your gratitude. 

When you pulled it away Luke’s eyes lingered over where your hand had previously been before he dragged his gaze up to meet your eyes. 

He released a deep sigh before speaking, “Happy to help, I’m honestly glad the storm happened.” 

“Happy to see me scared shitless, are we Hemmings?” 

He laughed through a denial, leaning forward to press his forehead on your shoulder where your loose fitting shirt had slipped. 

Your posture straightened as your stomach tied itself in knots, each one tightening with every exhale that brushed your bare skin. 

“No, I’m just glad that we can finally y’know, be-” 

“Friends.” you cut off. Because that’s what you would be, you had to remind yourself. You wouldn’t have Luke’s bed to crawl into every night. You wouldn’t have his firm chest under your palms each morning, or his hands tangled in your hair. Especially not in the way you really wanted them. 

Luke pulled off of you like he had been electrically shocked. 

“Friends” he repeated, and if you weren’t so busy pitying yourself you may have heard the subtle lilt in his voice that caused the word to come out as more of a question than a statement. 

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air, and as the minutes passed this interaction was starting to feel more like the ones you typically had with Luke. 

“We should get ready for work, you have to go soon.” he spoke up, already walking away. 

“We should do something tonight.” you suggested. This is what you were afraid of, you had grown attached already. “Maybe watch something or, I don’t know.” Anything to be near you again. 

“I won’t be home.” he clipped, closing his bedroom door behind him. 

It really was an awful idea.

You hurried through your morning routine, carefully selecting any time you had to leave your bedroom to avoid bumping into Luke. What had gone wrong? Had the word friends spooked him? If that was the case, what would he have done if he found out what you really wanted to say? 

Either way you left feeling confused and rejected, so quickly you didn’t even realise you had forgotten your car keys until you were on the sidewalk outside your complex. 

“Shit.” you cursed, turning on your heel and storming back in the building. 

Once you had expertly made your way back inside the apartment and retrieved your keys, being as quiet as humanly possible to not alert Luke to the fact that you had re-entered, you were halfway out the door when the utterance of your name froze your movements. 

“She just left for work.” 

Luke must’ve been on the phone, but why was he talking about you? Curiosity got the best of you and you quietly shut the door with you on the inside, work could wait. 

“Because, Cal that’s not what she wants.” he sighed.

He was talking to Calum? The only friend you shared, and the connection through which you got a room here in the first place. 

“She wants to be my friend and I can’t do that. Not with her.” 

“Why not?” you whispered to yourself, taking a step further inside to hear him better. 

“No, it’s not better than nothing at all. I can’t be her friend ‘cause anytime she’s near me all I can think about is kissing her.” 

Your stomach dropped at his words and a small gasp escaped your mouth. All the dots began adding up in your head. The avoiding? Well he had just explained that, and honestly it was the best excuse you’d ever heard. His behavior last night? You had caught him with his guard down, he was forced to let you in. His sudden annoyance at the word friends this morning? You had shot him down and you hadn’t even realized it. You liked Luke, and he actually liked you back.

“Actually, avoiding does work.” he continued, breaking you from your thoughts. 

You could hear the mumble of Calum’s response but unfortunately couldn’t make out any of the words. 

“Last night was an exception, she was all cute and scared. There’s no way I could’ve turned her away. I’ll go right back to avoiding, and things’ll go back to normal. Suffer in silence, I’m telling you it works.” 

That’s not what you wanted, not at all. The creak of floorboards alerted you to Luke’s approaching and you hastily snuck out the front door, your mind running through possible solutions the whole way to your car. 

Luke hadn’t lied when he said he wouldn’t be home, which meant he was taking this whole avoiding thing seriously. It was 1:30 am and you were still up waiting for him, your seat at the dining room table was losing its appeal as your back cramped in pain. The original plan you had concocted in the hours you spent daydreaming about him at work was to wait up for him, lure him into a movie night and make a move while the two of you were cuddled up on the couch. You hadn’t planned for him to be out this late though, and in all honesty you were starting to worry. You hoped he was just crashing at a friend’s, you hoped he wasn’t alone, you really hoped he wasn’t with another girl. 

Discouraged, you moved your pity party into your bedroom, flopping onto your bed and groaning loudly into a pillow. You rolled onto your back, wasting time by counting the blades of the ceiling fan in each slow rotation. 

You were at 231 in your counting when you heard the front door open followed by the clambering of footsteps. You perked up and angled your ear towards the hall. 

“Please be alone. Please be alone. Please be alone.” you repeated quietly to yourself as the steps got closer. From the light protruding the crack under your bedroom door, you saw the shadow of a figure approach. You held your breath in anticipation of the knock you figured was coming. A few minutes passed, nothing came, and soon enough the shadow disappeared and Luke retreated to his bedroom. 

You stared out your window and for the first time in your life found yourself hoping for a storm. The sky was clear, hardly a cloud in sight, and the moonlight was warm and prominent. It would look so pretty on Luke’s face right now, all soft eyes and drowsy expressions. 

It seemed a shame to sleep by yourself, he was just across the hall, the promise of his warm embrace taunting you. 

You huffed in exasperation and jumped to your feet, “Here goes nothing.” 

You didn’t bother being quiet as you advanced to his door, leaving three heavy knocks on the worn oak. 

You could hear him shuffling inside and then the intimidating creak of the hinges, revealing him to you. 

“Are you okay?” he questioned sluggishly, his body slumping against the door frame.

“Can I sleep in here?” you asked instead of answering. No time to waste here. 

“Um, it’s not storming?” 

“I know. Can I?”

“Is there a reason?” he breathed, his heavy eyes drifting down your face to land unabashedly on your lips, which you were chewing in anxiousness.

“I have a crush on you.” you blurted, causing him to shoot up from his languid lean. 

“What?” 

“I have this big stupid crush on you. I have ever since I moved in but I thought you hated me because you always avoided me, but now I know that you like me too and I don’t see the point in us sleeping in separate beds anymore.” you continued, your eyes glued to a dip in the hardwood floor. 

“How did you ev-” 

“I heard you on the phone with Calum earlier.” you interrupted to explain, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I swear I wasn’t spying or anything, I forgot my keys.” 

Without saying a word Luke stepped to the side allowing you entrance. You shuffled past him but didn’t make it far before his hand caught your forearm and smoothly tugged you a mere inches from him. 

He spoke through heavy breaths, eyes flitting to your own as you faced him for the first time since your declaration. 

“You like me?” 

You could only nod, your brain completely fogged by the close proximity. 

His eyes fell from your eyes to your now bitten lips, “Can I?” he sighed as his hand found your chin, thumb brushing the skin timidly. 

“Y-yea” you agreed, leaning into his touch. 

He closed the gap between you with a gentle press of his lips, his hand slowly dragging up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake until it was tangled in your hair. As you relaxed into his hold his movements became more fervent, his tongue begging for entrance which you allowed when your mouth fell open with a flustered sigh. 

Luke stumbled backward dragging you along with him until the back of his calves met the foot of the bed and he dropped to sit on the edge, you standing between his legs. You pulled apart to breath and he spoke raggedly, 

“My heart…” he trailed off catching his breath. 

“What?” you muttered. 

“Feel it.” he continued, taking your hand and pressing it to his heart which you could feel thumping rapidly through the warmth of his skin. 

You laid your forehead against the top of his head, moving both of your hands to your own chest. 

“Me too.”

He tugged on your sweatshirt until you were seated securely on his knee, his hands grasping at your waist. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” he drawled before he began alternating pecks, and light nibbles down your neck until he reached the spot he could feel your pulse thrumming from. He lets his lips rest there for a while and reveled in the fact that you were just as affected as him. He pulled away when you spoke up.

“Where were you tonight?”

“Moped around Calum’s place until he kicked me out, told me I needed to deal with my shit.” he answered, the hand he was resting on your upper thigh caressing the skin through your pajama pants.

“I heard you outside my door earlier.” you admitted leaning into his side. 

“I came home with every intention of telling you but I chickened out.”

“What would you have told me?” you wondered aloud. 

“That I like you, and that last night was amazing. That I don’t want to sleep without you again if I don’t have to.” 

Luke took notice of the fact that your eyelids were drooping as he talked and began to scoot you both back in the bed as he continued.

He watched in awe as you curled into his side. 

“Up for a breakfast date tomorrow, love?” he asked, pulling the blanket over you both. 

“Yes, please.” you agreed, laying your palm flat against the warmth radiating from his stomach. 

“So what should we do with your room?” Luke said drowsily, sleep beginning to creep up on him as well.

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you won’t be needing it anymore since you’re moving in here.” he comments casually, pushing your hair out of your face with soft movements.

You laugh lightly but it’s drowned by the yawn that slips out when you respond. 

“In your dreams, Hemmings.” 

“If I’m lucky.” he replied, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “Goodnight y/n.” 

“Night, Lu.” 

[ohholyfanfics]

Daycare 0.3|Tom Holland

Past Parts: One| Two 

Author’s note: I thought it’d be easier to gave y/n an actual name so after much thought I’ve decided that the name Evelyn Rose Smith. 

Tom’s weekend was spent between taken care of Liam and y/n, all while leaving Harrison completely frazzled by his best mates state. He watched as Tom lowly talked on the phone as he held a pen writing no doubt whatever else he needed to get from the store. Harrison wasn’t no fool and knew that Tom had been going out to see someone every couple of hours, it settled into a routine and followed it’s way into Monday and Tuesday as well.

“Leaving again?” he asked as Tom jumped not expecting him to be creeping from the sideline. His cheeks were flushed as he fixed his tie and nodded his head. Harrison looked down at his watching knowing Tom still had another hour and a half before he was due to pick Liam up. “It’s not time to pick little man up yet though..” he breathed testing the waters out.

“I just need to stop where beforehand.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow in question, he thought he knew Tom well enough to know there was something else. Or in this case someone, yet he wasn’t sure how to even approach the topic. The last time just as much mentioned dating, Tom nearly shit himself at the mere thought.

“Oh.”

Harrison watched his friend collect a few things from his office including a paper bag that seemed to have a few grocery items insides. He leaned back in the leather seat as he watched him fix his hair once more in the reflection of the glass windows. There had to be someone and he just hoped it was the same person that he had in mind.

The ride to Evelyn’s, Tom couldn’t help but feel a sheer wave of panic built up within him. He had promised himself that dating wasn’t something he was ready for and yet all he can think about was her. From the moment he woke, to the second he fell asleep. Yet even in his dreams her sweet smile and soft laugh hunted him. There was a longing feeling that loomed around him and he knows she was the only one that could tame it.

He ached to see her smile.

He wanted it directed towards him. For him. Because of him. He wanted to bring her joy; be the source of the way her eyes lit up and those cute dimples he loved so much to appear on her full cheeks. He watched her bring countless amounts of joy and happiness to everyone who knew her. He craved the warmth she’d give him.

He wanted her to show him the beauty she found in everything. Tom found himself craving things he’d never thought of before and the thought petrified him. Since the moment Tom had adopted Liam as his own, it’s always been the two against the world and now having her in his life scared him. It scared him to know that even time he closed his eyes he imagined her there, sharing even the tiniest of milestones Liam hit.

As much as he hated to admit it, he found himself falling and he was falling harder than he had ever expected it.

That afternoon things were slightly awkward between them, she was more put together than the past few days. Her hair wasn’t thrown in a messy state, that he had learned to love, no instead it was pulled back into a neat sleek ponytail. Her sweats had been switched to a pair of leggings but her torso remains covered in a sweater. Her face had color again and her voice was slowly returning to that velvety silk-like song he adored.

“You know you don’t need to keep checking up on me..” She breathed out as she took the last spoon full. As much as she appreciated everything he was doing, he was making it harder on her.

“I know..”

She studied him with a sigh before collecting both of their dishes and walking it towards the sink. Tom Holland was by far the most complex man she had ever met in her twenty-four years of living. She thought she had him figured out, but the man sitting behind her was most definitely not the CEO  she was used too. This was the same man that had walked into Evelyn’s office a little less than two months ago.

“I just-I wanted too Evelyn.” He spoke a few moments later as her cheeks flushed. She was more than grateful to have her back to him. “I don’t look at that phone call as a mistake.” He pointed out as she nodded her head.

Looking back at him she couldn’t stop the swirl of butterflies within her, the same feeling that showed up that very night. Biting onto her lower lip, she allowed herself for the first time to feel everything that she had been locking away. She was falling for this single father, at a rapid speed that had her gasping for air. It was all so sudden it had her begging for some sort of relief.

Much to Evelyn’s joy and disappointment, it was Tom for leave, Liam’s day at the center was coming to a close. Standing by her door, she gave him a soft smile as he nervously stuck his hands in his suit pockets. His heart thumping rapidly as he looked into her olive-green eyes. She couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at the situation, it was almost comical as she looked into his soft eyes.

“Um, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

She smiled softly as she leaned forward, his breath cut short as she placed a soft kiss on his cheeks. His eyes fluttered shut as the feeling of her lips lightly brushing against his flushed skin, sent his body into overdrive.

“Bright and early.”

The rest of her day was much uneventful other than the few texts from Tom and a very promising one from Harrison. She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips as he waltzed into her kitchen. It was clear he had come straight from work, a bottle of her favorite cheap wine and a bag full of take-out. She raised her eyebrow as he pulled a glass filling it straight to the rim.

“Rough day?”

She teased as she reaches inside the cabinet as he took a long sip. It wasn’t long before the pair were both seated at her table surrounded by Chinese take out and a glass of cheap wine. It was silent for a few moments before Harrison spotted the same bag Tom had been holding earlier. He couldn’t help but smirk before taken a good look at his friend.

“Feeling better?”

“So much Haz you wouldn’t believe the shit days I had.”

He smiled softly knowing Evelyn never took being sick well, he also knew she never allowed others to care for her either. Hence his lack of presence lately, but he couldn’t help but wonder made her cave. His thoughts were eating away at him that he didn’t even notice her talking to him.

“Have I lost you Haz?” She hummed softly shaking his shoulder causing him to flush and roll his eyes before giving her a soft smile.

“Sorry just thinking..”

“Penny for your thoughts..”

“Just thinking…”

“Oh no, that’s never good Haz.”

“It’s nothing like that Evy..” He breathed out as he sighed wondering if she would even react to what he had to say. It wasn’t that he was meddling, no he liked to think that he was helping. “I just, I think Tom has so much on his plate lately..” He tested the waters as she raised her eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“I just think he’s been so cooped up with Liam, he hasn’t had much time to himself.” He explained a she smiled softly and placed a hand over his. “I think he just needs to let lose a bit.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” She asked as he nodded his head. She tilted her head to the side taken a sip from her drink as she thought back to Tom. He did seem a bit dazed these past few days. “Maybe he just needs a night out.”

“He needs to get laid,” Harrison mumbled with a wicked grin as she chocked on her wine. Her cheeks were flushed as she let out a little awkward chuckle before filling her glass up. “Much like you.”

“I don’t need you insulting my love life mate.”

“Not insulting, I’m pointing out the obvious.” He stated as a wicked thought came to mind. She couldn’t help but sit straighter once she saw a wave of excitement flash across his features.

“Harrison no.”

“You don’t even know what I have in mind babe.”

“I don’t need to know what it is, to know it won’t be pleasant.”

“Just trust me, Evelyn Rose Smith.”

She walked into the center with a skip to her step as she welcomed Sophia who couldn’t help but chuckle. It was clear that she was better than ever as she helped the other teacher’s set everything up, as she rearranged the last few decorations for the spring. Taken a seat at her office, she looked at the pile of new applications knowing she had a few moments before Tom would be showing up.

“Knock knck.”

Looking up her heart swelled as she cheeks flushed at the beautiful flower arrangement that was starring right back at her. The pinks and whites blended so well it had her head spinning slightly as she met his bright brown eyes.  

“Morning darling.” he breathed out with a soft smile as he placed the beautiful vase of flowers on her desk. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of pride wash over him as he took notice of her flushed expression.

“What are these for?”

“They’re a welcome back gift.”

“You didn’t have to Tom.” she smiled softly as she stood infron of him. The vase now in her hold, as she brought them towards her face. Her eyes closed as she took in the sweet smell mixed eith pollen. Biting her lip, she looked at him as a wave of apperication and adortion took over her. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anything for you..” he mumbled as he shifted his weight on his feet, he lookeed at the clock on the wall and chewed on his bottom lip. “Um I should get going.” 

“Um yeah of course..” 

“I’ll see you later?” 

“Um yeah, I’ll be here..” 

Watching him walk away she couldn’t help but let out a soft squeal as she held the vase tighter in her hold. Tom Holland was going to be the absolute death of her. 

Taglist: 

@greenarrowhead​ @xinsonyax​ @rescue3000​ @abschaffer2​ @fav-fan-fic​ @cutiepiemimi13​ @starkerismysexuality​ @jackiehollanderr​ @obsessed-librarian​ @parkeret​ @peterparkersdestiny​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @tomkindholland​ @yourbiggestspiderfan​ @ditzymoon​

[gdotsand]

Que sera, sera

Pairing - Armitage Hux x Reader (Modern Au) 

Summary - Coming home for Christmas with bad news is nerve wracking, but coming home to you is all he needs. 

Word Count: 2,700 (ish) 

Warnings - Nothing, I wrote something without the word fuck in it so y’all should be proud 

A/N -  Well, this whole lockdown situation is getting to be a little bit. So I did a thing! This might be slightly self indulgent but I just, i’m soft for husband Hux and I love him and wanna protect him. So I guess that’s where this comes from at almost 6am. 

It was late when Armitage arrived home. Granted, it was always late, very rare was it to see your husband walk out of the office earlier than around 7:30 pm. Yes, he always made exceptions for birthdays, ballet performances and the like (even if there was the odd missed violin recital but to be quite honest if you heard another kid old play twinkle twinkle little star again you were going to lose it yourself, so you couldn’t quite hold a grudge for his absence for too long).

Armitage always made time for the important moments, however, the memories that when he was old and grey, he could look back on wistfully and remember a time when he loved nothing more than coming home to his girls. Especially on Christmas eve. Because unfortunately, there was always a small part of his brain that knew kids grow up and go off to university and he wasn't yet ready to wish for the fantasy of having you all to himself again. Just as he had as a younger man. When there were no hints of grey, when he wasn't such an important partner at the firm, his name never gracing an office door. An all together simple time. Armitage was finishing up his law degree and you were halfway through your own in English Literature and everything seemed to be possible.

Your lives could have taken you anywhere, you could have done absolutely anything and boy did you take that as a challenge. Never once taking for granted the memories that made their way into photographs that now littered your house. Filled with bright smiles and younger faces, without laugh lines and any sign of sleep deprivation or hesitation of any kind. Vacations and trips captured and kept within trinkets you had collected on the way, sat on bookshelves and kitchen countertops as though they weren't a lifetime ago.

He took a moment stepping out of the cab into the stark white-covered streets, the bitter coldness of the snow seeping through the very sole of his dress shoes making his teeth chatter together just a little bit more as he watched the soft glow through the front window.

He half expected to see the house in darkness and have to unwrap his various layers whilst holding onto the substantial pile of paperwork that was nestled firmly in the crook of his arm without a single shred of light and he was almost positive if he knocked over the fern to the left of the front door one more time you would kill him. So, he let himself, there at the bottom of the driveway, watch the gentle flicker of a clearly dying down fire and thanked the stars that he would not have to babble out apologies whilst cleaning soil of the tiles once more.

It's at least a minute more before he completed his journey home for the holidays, pushing through the front door as he shook the soft white flakes out of his slicked-back hair, damped at the ends by the elements. The snow melting away before it even had a chance to settle on the floor.

Firstly, his scarf, unwrapped from around his neck and placed on the hook closest to the door, then his coat and suit jacket, shrugged off his shoulders however caught in firm hands numbed from the cold before being placed on the same hook.

Armitage was always methodical, routine centered at the very core of every action he made, something from his childhood with a military father that he just could not shake for the life of him. Everything had a place and every place had a thing. Which is why he toed off his shoes firstly left and then right, never right then left, and lined them up with yours on the mat by the door.

It truly did smell like Christmas, soft notes of cinnamon and vanilla somehow not drown out by the overwhelming pine and firewood and the scent filling his senses as he padded his way into the living room. Nimble fingers rolled up the tight sleeves of his once crisp white shirt exposing strong forearms as he called out your name softly, it was dangerously close to midnight after all. All of this before catching sight of the bundled up trio. All softly breathing, light snores falling from your eldest's (if only by 18 minutes) open, drooling mouth as she clutched her tiny hands into your jumper. A spray of bright red ringlets fanned out over your chest and she slept deeply.

Of course, they had his hair, as if some higher power was adamant that everyone who laid eyes on the girls needed to be reminded that they were Armitage's pride and joy. When the twins were born they were completely bald, not a single hair graced their head and you mostly overcompensated by colorful headpieces and bows and then they got older only for bright red ringlets to form after a few months and Armitage couldn't have been happier.

Soft blue eyes fell to your youngest, tiny thumb firmly pushed into the roof of her mouth as she used your hip as a pillow. All rosy-cheeked. Her other hand gripping onto a stuffed bunny's ear with more force than you would think a 6-year-old was capable of.

Finally, he looked over you from head to toe. From the fuzzy socks still encasing once cold toes, to the book that now lay ignored against your stomach. Of course, you were reading 't'was the night before Christmas', you had read it to them every single year since they had been born and although the book which was once a gift from your own mother to you now had a broken spine and dog eared corners you could never bring yourself to part with it. You'd always say that most loved books were battered, tear-stained and torn in places but treasured none the less.

It was only as he plucked the glasses from falling off the tip of your nose that you woke with a groan, only cracking one sleepy eye before being met with your husband's gaze.

You hummed a greeting as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss against your brow.

“They really wanted to wait up for you” you gestured with your only free hand to the small bodies entangled in your limbs to which Armitage just gave a soft huff. “long day?” you asked, all soft in the eyes just happy to have him home.

"Something like that, we should probably untangle you from these two" and he ruffled the curls on top of Fliss's head before gently prising her sleeping figure away from you and into his arms before she started to stir awake. Armitage shot you a look of panic, thinking he had made an absolutely terrible mistake and awoken the sleeping dragon as it were. However, Fliss just buried her nose further into her father's neck, smacked her lips around slightly and once again became a dead weight in his arms. You huffed out a chuckle and Armitage exhaled dramatically enough to get the point across before turning and making his way upstairs.

You followed behind, carefully lifting your youngest to be placed against your chest before following closely on his heel.

After you respectively flicked off nightlights, placed gentle kisses against cheeks and whispered wishes of sweet dreams, bedroom doors were closed and the real work would begin. It took around half a second, your hand still clutched around the metallic knob before you felt your husband's palms run around your waist, resting his chin right on top of your head.  Needy fingertips making themselves known against your hip bones. He wasn't a man with a lot of words, not really into small talk, Armitage was always a man of touch. To be honest, it's all he needed to get by, there was nothing that man could say that could not be conveyed through the smallest of actions.

You know somethings playing on his mind, however, you know there’s a pile of paperwork and documents on the sideboard by the door with confidential, bold and red spread across the top page because you eyed it on your way up here. But you’re also aware that the grandfather clock at the bottom of the staircase has informed the pair of you that time has steadily crept past midnight and into Christmas Day and this conversation isn’t one for this very second.

So he breathes you in for a moment longer than necessary and lets you pull him back downstairs and into his office.

He didn't use it all that often to be quite honest but it still housed dark woods and floor to ceiling bookshelves all the same. Still had his favorite wedding photo set in a golden frame, it's not his favorite for aesthetic reasons.  No no, it's his favorite because every time he sees you in that white dress, arms draped around his neck, cheeks rosy from one too many glasses of champagne it really hammers home the fact that he found such love and stability in you.

It's only then that he spots the mountain of presents that need to be arranged around the tree. Golds and rich browns of wrapping topped with any kind of bow or decoration you could think of and he side-eyes you from the corner of his vision.

It was clich�� that you always said you 'aren't going crazy again this year' and yet there was always an abundance of gifts, always cookies in the treat jar that sit on the counter, always some form of chocolate or candy piled into a cheesy decorative bowl you would never part with and most importantly always a good bottle of scotch hidden at the back of the drinks cabinet, only to be opened once the clock struck midnight and there was no more preparation to do.

You know what he's thinking as you move across the room and start gathering boxes into your arms, careful not to tread on anything that may have fallen from the pile that you look up and say "next year, next year I promise I will" and Armitage just rolls his eyes, smiling whilst he does and moves to help you gather everything together to take into the living room.

You're carefully filling the last stocking hung high on the fireplace, and the familiar squeak of a cork leaving a bottle almost brings you out of a trance. Before you can fully acknowledge how tired you are a rocks glass is being pressed in your hand. You take it, looking up at your husband with an all too knowing face, he's trying his most damn to find words in the back of his throat that just won't seem to string together. You bring your face close to his and whisper a soft 'Merry Christmas' against pink lips before pressing him into a kiss.

The sentence is bearly audible but the kiss not quick and it's not lacking in any form of understanding or love, and it's definitely not simply out of habit. You did this a lot, whenever something plagued the back of his mind you would simply result in kissing it out of him, and Armitage, always the man who firmly believes that actions speak louder than words, lets you.

He lets you with all the enthusiasm in the world.

"Ren's taking over from Snoke, he's out, there are going to be newly named partners" came out all at once, when you pulled away in an attempt to catch your breath and in all honesty, the confession did nothing except knock the wind right out of you. All together you thought it would take a little more coaxing, a little more of the brown liquid burning his throat before he fully let go of whatever was bothering him.

You take in his creased brow and watch as a half sigh half huff passes through his lips. You're all too eager to find out what this means, what this means for the firm, for him, for you and the girls and the only thing you can do really is rub a small pattern on his shoulder and let him spill out every bit of information he has. So you offer him some expression close to pleading and slowly take a sip of your scotch.

"He wants me to head up the London office full time, he says he's going back to New York. Something about tensions in the family, I didn't really press for too much intel. I don't really think it's my place" and he punctuated his continuation with another sip.

You hum something that vaguely sounds thoughtful to his ears, really just trying to let more time pass so you can gauge his opinion on the situation. It's not hard, from the grip on his glass to the strands of red hair that is no longer slicked back but messy because hands have been raked through the locks over and over again. He's indifferent, as always, this isn't his normal shade of indifference. It's careful and it's still trying to be calculated because you can quite frankly see the cogs in his head turning ever so slowly. but You press.

"Well, how does this affect us"

He pauses and a small smirk plays against the corner of his mouth, it's small but its there and you focus on that before he explains. "It means that my name, our name, will be above the door"  A beat. "next to his". Its information that has you whistling on a downward key and mouthing a 'wow'.

Your tentative about your next question, not because you're afraid of the answer, because you know what being a named partner at such a big firm will mean. It will mean that his schedule will be wilder, his business trips longer and stress levels too boot. You know all of these things but his eyes, those ever so muted blue eyes are saying more than his mouth could ever speak because he's staring at you carefully, almost as if he's trying to anticipate the worst possible reaction his brain could come up with. So you decide to put him out of his misery and lay it all out there.

You're trying not to let the partial sadness be shown in your own delicate features in the soft lamplight but evidently, it's not working.

He's instantly reaching his hand in search of yours, instantly needing your soft warm skin to ground him into the moment because he knows he's about to break your heart. Because from his perspective taking this position means leaving the only thing he loves in this world without him. It means that he will miss things, he will be so late home that the house will be in darkness and he will knock that damn fern over. He knows this. But part of him, the small piece of him deep down that craves the power his new position will come with wants him to accept blindly and ignore the fact that you will wake up next to a cooling dent in the bed and fall asleep with the same empty pillow next to you. He knows, Armitage knows that this would be good for business, he knows it would be good for the family's future in the long run but right now it's tearing him in two practically in front of your eyes.

So you adjust your gaze, run your soft thumb over the back of his hand and press another kiss to his lips. With the same message as always. Unweaving support, unconditional love and a fierce commitment to your family that's etched into the very DNA of you.

His gaze softens slightly, and he knows. Knows in his heart that all of it will be okay when you look at him like that when you kiss him like that.

And just in case he's wondering, you add your trademark saying to seal the deal.

"Que sera, sera"

[wordywarriorwrites]

Chapter 14: Vortex

Masterlist: The Boss of Brooklyn  A03 Story Link Author: @wordywarriorwrites Summary: When it comes to being The Boss, James Buchanan “JB” Barnes rules with an iron fist. For him, there’s no room for sentiment, and certainly no time for distraction, even if it is in the form of an old flame. Steve Rogers had bowed out of the life a long time ago, but a twist of fate brings him right back into the fold, and face-to-face with a man he once loved. When a game of cat and mouse turns into a matter of life and death, both will be forced to decide whether they’ll be loyal to the business, or faithful to each other. A/N: Bucky Barnes Mob Boss AU. Stucky. For: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Star’s Multi-Fandom Follower Celebration with the prompt, “Why did you do it?” & @sherrybaby14 Sherry’s Fall Into You Challenge with the prompt, “Show me. Prove that you can handle me.” Warnings: Language, violence, drug use, alcohol, smoking, explicit sexual content, illegal activities. *Re-blogs are welcome. Plagiarism isn’t. *

The McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas. Glaring Cirque du Soleil posters, cheesy merchandise, overpriced grub, and soul-sucking slot machines.

Steve didn’t really much care for all the bells, whistles, and neon lights, but since he hadn’t quite decided where he was headed to next, he parked his ass at a bar, and ordered a drink. And when it was gone? Well, it didn’t take long for the bartender to pour him another. And another. And another.

The Families’ forefathers had never had a problem executing traitors. Theirs was very much a world of talk-shit, get hit, and people who stepped out of line were either put in their place or sent to their grave. Many generations had come and gone, but things hadn’t changed that much; there were some things that could not be ignored or forgiven, and they still dispensed brutal, bloody justice.

Nick had truly believed he possessed more than enough power and authority to guarantee nobody on his team would ever go rogue. He’d had a solid, profitable game going, but he wasn’t complacent, and he sure as hell wasn’t stupid. Maria may have had other people do the dirty work for her, but Fury would’ve eventually seen past the subterfuge, and the end result would’ve been the same.

All Steve did was make it happen sooner, rather than later.

Somewhere after shot number five – that’s when it dawned on him. None of it mattered anymore. Fury wanted to retire anyway, so, he’d walk, take his fortune with him, and more than likely collect on an annual finder’s fee from the Families. Since they didn’t like to waste talent or opportunities, the business and rest of the crew would probably be absorbed, and given Natasha’s propensity for turning shit piles into gold, she’d probably be sent in to run things.

At the end of shot number six, he realized something even more groundbreaking – he was truly free. For the first time in his adult life, he didn’t have to answer to anyone, and could do what he wanted. He could stop running and hiding, vacate his seat with the Families, and finally get out for good.

“Drinking to victory or drowning your sorrows?”

Steve groaned and sat his tumbler down, “How did you find me?”

Natasha perched on the stool beside him, “You forgot to toss your phone after you called Thor.”

He sighed, retrieved his cell from his pocket, and took out the battery. Steve also removed the memory card and snapped it in half.

“What do you want?” he muttered.

“You need to come back with me,” she said quietly.  

“No, I don’t.”

“This isn’t a request, Steve -- it’s an order.”

“I don’t take orders from you. And I don’t take orders from him, either.”  

Natasha attempted to argue her case, but he didn’t listen. Instead, Steve hailed the bartender, and asked for his bill. He put enough cash down to cover the tab and a generous tip, but before he could get to his feet, she placed a hand on his forearm, and held tight.

“Let go of me,” he bit out warningly. “Or I’ll break your fucking hand.”

“Hey, that’s no way to talk to a lady.”

As soon as he heard Sam’s voice, Steve closed his eyes, and forced himself to count backward from ten. He should’ve known Natasha would bring backup for the ambush. Steve considered trying to make a run for it, but he couldn’t escape them without causing a scene, and the booze he’d dumped down his gullet had made him a tad unsteady on his feet.

For the next five hours, Steve remained miserably sandwiched between. When they landed in Brooklyn, Bruce was there to pick them up, but whatever happened after the show got on the road was a complete blank. He must’ve either fallen asleep or simply passed out, because when he came to, he was no longer in the car, and had no clue where he’d ended up.

The only thing Steve knew when he woke was that he was still a little drunk, a lot pissed off, and whoever put him to bed had taken the trouble to undress him and cover him with a sheet. A clock on the nightstand revealed it was almost ten in the morning, and though Steve wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, he was hungry, and reeked of booze. The combination made him queasy, which prompted him to hobble out of bed, and weave his way to the adjacent bathroom.

An overhead light kicked on automatically, and when he entered, he found his clothes, which had been washed, primly folded, and stacked in neat a pile on the left side of the sink’s oversized countertop. Lined up in a row on the opposite side were a fresh towel, a packet of Tylenol, a bottle of water, a new toothbrush, and a box of toothpaste. After he utilized the facilities and the hangover kit, Steve fired up the hot water, and stepped into the shower stall.

On a recessed shelf beneath the showerhead was a bottle of shampoo and an unused bar of soap. As soon as the fog lifted a bit, he set about getting cleaned up, and when the scents of Oribe Signature and Côte d'Azur filled the air, he knew precisely where he was.

He finished up quickly, and as he dried off and got dressed, Steve clocked it all. The Sauvage cologne tucked behind a box of tissues; a rolled-up wad of what had to be at least five-grand in the medicine cabinet; the fully-loaded nine-millimeter behind the toilet tank; a switch blade hidden in a basket of haircare product; an interconnected walk-in closet filled to the brim with posh labels, custom tailoring, and an alarming amount of shoes.

Heady, menacing, and rich as fucking Croesus – yeah, he was in the King’s castle all right, and His Majesty was using the trappings and authority of his position to fuck with his head.  

Instead of waiting to be summoned, he headed back toward the bedroom, and out into the hall. He made it all of three steps when he heard Bucky’s voice, and the low-timbered tone was hard-edged and steadily rising in volume. When Steve entered the living area, he found Natasha typing furiously on a laptop, and the reason for her strained expression was revealed when Bucky began bellowing at the top of his lungs.

“Don’t give me that shit!” he roared. “You do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it!”

Steve rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen. Situated in the middle of the island was a bowl of apples, and after he snagged one, he took it to the sink to wash it. Bucky carried on with his tirade, never once paused for breath, and it wasn’t until Steve took a seat at the counter that Bucky even realized he’d entered the room.

Even though the man was still busy ranting, Steve knew he was the one who had his full attention. Bucky had always had a bit of a knife kink, and he’d been using a paring blade to cut away pieces of the fruit, and eating the slices directly off the steel. When there was nothing left but the core and seeds, Steve opened his mouth, and very carefully dragged the knife from bolster to spine slowly along his tongue.

“Stop it,” Bucky barked curtly.

Steve jutted his chin, “Or what?”

Any challenge issued could not be ignored, and he did what Steve predicted he’d do; he hung up on whoever he’d been shouting at, and stalked toward him. Bucky tried to intimidate him by crowding him, but he didn’t balk; he simply quirked an eyebrow and waited for him to make a move.

Crisp, white dress shirt strained against heavy muscle; haphazard tie; disheveled hair; eyes bright and a little too wild. It would’ve been easy to assume Bucky was either strung out or about to take a swing, but the lust-blown gaze, flushed cheeks, and damp brow suggested he had something else on his mind.

If they were alone, Bucky would have tried climbed him like a fucking tree, and he knew it.

Steve vividly recalled the last time they’d gone at each other’s throats, and while Bucky was looking for a repeat, Steve wasn’t. He was trying to get out, not drawn back in, and there was just too much history, bad blood, and unresolved hostility between them. Behind the passion was a lot of underlying rage and ugliness; it had been left to fester like an unattended wound, and sex – no matter how mind-blowing – wasn’t going to heal it.

“Boss,” Natasha called out from the living room. “We don’t have time for this.”

Much to his relief, the subtle reminder was all it took for Bucky to come to his senses, dial it down, and take a step back. He ordered Natasha to finish making transportation and flight arrangements before he spun on a heel and headed toward his bedroom. A few moments later, the door slammed, and the sound made Natasha flinch.

“Is this what you dragged me back here for?” Steve wondered.

She walked into the kitchen and plopped down on the stool beside him, “They’ve negotiated Fury’s golden parachute, but there’s a problem.”

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, “Go on.”

“Scott, Carol, and Rhodey are skittish and don’t want an outsider running things. And even though they were all cleared of any wrongdoing, the Families refuse to let them promote from within.”

Steve didn’t need to hear anymore, because he knew very well where the conversation was headed, and what the Families wanted him to do. In order to keep their profit shares and maintain control, they needed someone to not only settle the waters, but also steer the ship.

It didn’t matter what he wanted – they were going to pull him back in and never let him go...

Natasha sighed and got to her feet, “They’re are flying out to today, and they expect you to be there to attend the meet and sign the paperwork.”

She didn’t wait for him to acquiesce or argue; she just handed him a cellphone and told him his boarding pass and itinerary were on it. When he brought to the screen to life and checked the destination, he couldn’t help but snort, because he now knew where he was headed to next.

Steve was being forced to go back to where it all began…

He was going back to Bermuda.

Chapter 15: Imperfect Union

Everything: @jennmurawski13​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​

Steve Rogers: @patzammit @hearttoearth​ The Boss of Brooklyn: @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @captain-rogers-beard

[littlemissgot7]

fever

Youngjae | 1800 words requested by @septetoile: you’re sick and youngjae cooks for you and does all he can to cheer you up

Being this sick was the absolute worst, but having a cute boyfriend to take care of you would make it better. Right?

Your day hadn’t started out that badly. You’d felt a little off when you woke up, but nothing that you couldn’t explain away with your record of sleep deprivation and stress, so you didn’t think much of it.

Cut to an hour later when you found yourself dry heaving into your toilet and wondering what you could have possibly done to deserve this.

You leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, as you tried to steady your breathing. Your throat hurt, your stomach hurt (in addition to feeling nauseous), your head hurt. Everything hurt and everything was terrible and you were pretty sure you were going to perish there on the floor of your bathroom in one of Youngjae’s old t-shirts.

Ah. Youngjae.

You clenched your jaw. Time to stop being melodramatic and get up. There had to be something in your apartment that you could keep down.

You made it all the way to your living room before you gave up, dropping down onto the couch and curling into as much of a ball as you could manage, groaning loudly. “I hate everything,” you mumbled to no one in particular, shaking slightly from the physical effort it had taken to get this far. This was the absolute worst.

---

You lifted your head when you heard the keypad sometime later, trying to decide if you should get up and fight the intruder or just let them finish you off. You hadn’t quite made up your mind when a face appeared above you.

Ah. Right. Youngjae.

You’d forgotten to text him to let him know you Felt Like Death and wouldn’t be able to meet him for your date that day. Right. Apparently he took matters into his own hands. Okay.

He wrinkled up his nose, staring down at you as he leaned over the back of the couch. “You don’t look so good.”

You reached up, the tips of your fingers brushing his cheek in the weakest possible attempt at a play-slap. “Ya jerk.”

He reached down, pressing his palm firmly against your forehead. “You’re really hot.”

This time, you gave him the best smirk you could manage and a sloppy wink. “You bet your ass I am.”

He laughed, leaning down further to press his lips to your too-warm forehead before his face broke into a smile. “I’ll make you something to eat! That’ll help you feel better! Have you taken any medicine? You stay here, I’ll get you some!”

Before you could protest (yes, you’d tried medicine, and no, it didn’t help, not when you’d just thrown it up barely five minutes later), Youngjae had disappeared from view, shedding his thick winter jacket. You thought about yelling after him but decided that would do more harm than good, and nestled back into the couch cushions.

You were asleep before he came back.

---

The loud clanging of a pot hitting tile floor ripped you from a fitful sleep. You stayed completely still, wishing you’d misheard, but more clanging followed and you grudgingly pulled yourself to your feet. You stopped when you were upright, clinging onto the back of the sofa until the nausea passed. When you were fairly certain you were able to walk, you straightened. Time to go see what Youngjae was up to.

---

“Youngjae.”

He looked up, a wave of guilt flashing over his face for just a second before he frowned. “Why are you up? You’re supposed to be resting!”

You were standing in the doorway, eyebrow raised.

There were noodles all over the floor, some half cooked and some raw. Sloppily-cut pieces of raw chicken were spread out across half of the counter, and he’d just dumped the largest chunks of carrots you’d ever seen anyone attempt to put in soup in the pot he’d retrieved from the floor. Your carefully-arranged spice cabinet was open and had been torn through; spice bottles littered the counter, one tipped over and spilled out everywhere.

“What’re you doing?”

Youngjae blinked. He gestured lamely at the mess around him. “Making you chicken soup.”

It was sweet. It was so sweet that he wanted to go through the trouble to try to make you soup from scratch when you were sick, but your head was still pounding and the state of your kitchen was definitely not helping you feel a whole lot better. You shuffled to the pantry, yanking out a can of chicken soup and shoving it into his hands.

“Please,” you mumbled. “Just canned soup is good.”

All the tension fell out of his shoulders and he beamed, carefully steering you back to the living room. “I’ll fix it up real quick, you wait on the couch!”

“I can–”

“No, I got it!” He pressed on your shoulders until you gave in and sat back down. “It’ll just be a second!”

“Don’t–Youngjae–you can microwave–take it out of the can first please–”

You groaned, dropping your face into a pillow. Death truly was determined to come for you this day.

---

It took longer than it should have for Youngjae to open a can of soup, dump it in a bowl, and microwave it, but he got it eventually. He attempted to feed it to you and you did your best to keep it down, stubbornly ignoring the way your stomach was twisting itself in a million directions while he went back to clean up the mess he’d made. You’d offered to help (though you weren’t sure if you actually could) but he refused, demanding that you stay on the couch until you felt better.

You whined.

You didn’t want to stay on the couch. You were tired of the couch. You wanted to go hide under blankets on your bed, which was infinitely more comfortable and further away from the noise coming from the hallway (seriously what the fuck were your neighbors even doing–oh, right, the new people were moving in). But every time you tried to get up, Youngjae would cheerfully push you back down before dashing off to scrub the chicken goop off your counter.

You finally saw your chance when he left for a couple minutes to take out the garbage. Fighting down the ever-present nausea, you shuffled to your bedroom and collapsed on your bed, a contented sigh escaping your lips. So much better than the couch.

A second later, you felt something heavy and soft fall over your body; you blinked open your eyes to find Youngjae pouting over you as he tugged your favorite blanket up to your chin.

“I was gonna carry you back here when I got done,” he mumbled dejectedly in response to your confused glance.

A genuine smile blossomed over your lips and you grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry I beat you to it.”

He sighed dramatically, sitting on the edge of your bed and carefully brushing your hair out of your face. “How could you?” He tried his best to sound hurt.

You laughed, but it dissolved into a cough and you groaned instead. “Sorry about our date too.”

He shrugged lightly. “S’not your fault you got sick.”

“Yeah, but…”

He patted the top of your head. “You know how you can make it up to me?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Letting me kiss you senseless!”

You immediately burst into laughter – he sounded so ridiculous – but honestly the playful banter was making you feel better than you had all day. “First of all, that wouldn’t take an awful lot right now–”

“Meh, I still–”

“–And second of all,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “you’re already in enough danger of catching whatever I’ve got. Kissing me certainly wouldn’t help your chances.”

And he was pouting again, looking far too much like his cute puppy. “I don’t caaare.”

“Yeah, but I think your company might.”

“But I wanna kiss you!”

“Well, I wanna kiss you too, but I don’t want you to get sick!”

“But if I don’t care then it’s not a problem!”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Youngjae!”

He wrinkled his nose, obviously more than a little frustrated at your protests. He just wanted to kiss you, dammit!

It only took a second for him to hatch what he thought was a truly brilliant plan.

“Hey, babe?”

“I’m not gonna be responsible for getting you sick, Youngjae!” Your voice was muffled behind your hands and you squeezed your eyes shut for extra protection against his puppy dog eyes.

He sighed, standing up and tapping his foot. “No, I just thought of something else that might make you feel better.”

“Not kisses?”

“Mmmm, that’s not what I was thinking of at the moment.”

Very hesitantly, you peeked through your fingers.

The second he saw you looking, he tugged off his t-shirt and threw it unceremoniously on the floor. Suddenly you felt way too warm.

Every thought you’d ever had melted away into the deep corners of your brain. “I think you’re the one who’s real hot,” you mumbled, distracted by staring at his toned chest.

He wiggled his eyebrows, grinning teasingly, and slid around to the other side of your bed, dropping onto it and grabbing the edge of your blanket. “You gotta share.”

“Huh?” You tore your eyes away from him, finally realizing that he wanted under the blanket, but he’d yanked it out of your hands and snuggled up next to you before you had a chance to, once again, reiterate how terrible of an idea this actually was. Honestly, you weren’t sure you wanted to reiterate how terrible of an idea it was because he wrapped his arms around your waist and tucked his face in your shoulder and, god, if that wasn’t the best possible feeling in the entire world.

“And does this make you feel better?”

It was your turn to pout, this time at the unmistakable laughter in his voice because he knew for a fact that you could never say no to snuggles.

“...Yeah,” you admitted grudgingly. “And I guess–”

Before you could stop him, he’d pulled himself up just enough to steal a quick kiss.

“Youngjae!!”

He smiled innocently. “Just the one!”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you wiggled slightly to get comfortable in his arms. “Fine. But just the one!”

He raised an eyebrow playfully. He had you and he knew it.

“...For now. Maybe...maybe more. Later. Shut up, quit staring at me like that, this isn’t fair!”

He tightened his grip around your waist, looking all too proud of himself.

“I’m the best nurse.”

You deadpanned, which he took as an opportunity for another peck before bursting into laughter.

“You’re an idiot, Choi Youngjae.”

“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”

Despite the fact that you knew you were supposed to be mad at him, you smiled.

Yeah.

He was yours.

[nerdforestgirl]

@stellina2a suggested: Hello 😁 could you write one about ShAmy spending their Christmas in Texas as husband and wife plz ?

Amy pulled the rental car into Sheldon’s mother’s driveway.  She grinned at him as they got out of the car.  She knew he didn’t want to come home for Christmas, but Mary insisted on having all of her kids under her roof the holiday now that her boys were talking again.  Amy didn’t mind.  Anything to avoid her own family after the long and tedious affair that was Thanksgiving.

After a round of hellos to Mary, Missy, and Meemaw, Sheldon started back to his bedroom to put his things away.

“What fresh hell is this?” he asked when he opened the door.  His childhood twin bed was gone.  It was replaced with a full sized bed.

“What’s wrong?” Mary asked as she made her way to the back of her house.

“My bed is gone.  You changed my room,” he complained.  He looked around and the rest of the room was basically the same.  Still, he didn’t like that she had changed anything in here.  It was his room.  She didn’t even ask before doing this.

“Were you gonna sleep in that little bed with Amy?” Mary asked.  She thought he would appreciate that she accommodated him and his wife.

Sheldon looked back at Amy who was standing there with her own suitcase in her hand.  He hadn’t thought about it.  He guessed that she was going to sleep in Missy’s old room like she always had when they had come to visit before.  Even when they lived together, Amy wasn’t allowed to stay with him.  However, she was now his wife.  They were allowed to sleep together.  That was new, but not altogether surprising now that he thought of it.

“Right.  Thank you,” he said to his mother.  Then he reached back to take Amy’s suitcase from her.  Mary nodded and left the kids to unpack.

“I do miss my Star Wars sheets,” Sheldon said to Amy once they were alone.  “You won’t let me have them at home.”

Amy just shrugged.  She wasn’t going to give up on that.  “It’s nice that she thought ahead.  I didn’t think about the sleeping arrangements before we got here.”

“Nor did I.  I think I thought she was going to make us sleep separately, but I get special privileges now that I am a married man.”

“I’m glad.  I always miss sleeping with you a bit when we are apart.”

Sheldon nodded in agreement before starting to put their things away.  Then they went out to the living room where Amy immediately sat on the floor to play with her nephews.  Amy was always like this even at home.  She was usually the first one on the floor to play with Halley and Michael too.  He couldn’t wait to see her be a mother to their own children, but Amy wanted to wait a bit longer before they had children of their own.  Something about finally having him, but he didn’t understand.  She had had him for over eight years.

“How are your little friends?” Mary asked Sheldon.

“They are doing well.  Rajesh is engaged to be married.  Leonard and Penny have gotten over their most recent hiccup about how she does not want children.  Howard and Bernadette’s children appear to be thriving,” Sheldon said.  He was expecting this question, so he had prepared this answer for his mother.  She liked asking about his friends because he went a long time without many.

“Now, when are you going to have some babies?” Mary asked her son.  She never thought he would get married, but now that he had, she hoped he would give her more grandchildren.

“Ask Amy. I’ve been asking her that for the last year and a half,” Sheldon explained.

“Tattle tale,” Amy muttered, but Sheldon heard it all the same.  He smiled at her.  They didn’t really fight over this, but he enjoyed needling her about it a little.  They needed to get started soon to have fifteen children.

“You’ve only been married since May,” Mary said.

“That and he doesn’t want to move.  I’m not raising a baby in our one bedroom apartment,” Amy explained.

Later, when George arrived, Amy stood to hug the man.  Sheldon begrudgingly agreed to also hug the man.  At least now that he was an adult, George’s hygiene had improved.

“I still can’t believe that Sheldon landed such a cute girl,” George flirted with Amy a bit.  He didn’t have any sights on Sheldon’s wife, but he was charming.  It was what he did.  He liked the way Amy blushed all the same.

“Well, I did,” Sheldon said as he wrapped his arm around Amy and pulled her to his side possessively.  Amy leaned into him and wished a little bit that other guys would flirt with her so she could see Sheldon like this.  Then again, she liked the freedom that came with Sheldon not usually caring so much.  He trusted her completely.

“Good work,” George said as he punched Sheldon lightly on the arm that wasn’t around Amy.

Mary loved seeing her kids all together again.  It really felt like a miracle that Amy had come into Sheldon’s life.  Sheldon was happy.  The wedding had gotten the boys talking again.  Mary said a little silent prayer of thanks for her.

On Christmas morning, Amy woke early.  She always did.  Even if Santa hadn’t brought her anything.  The buzz in the air always woke her early.  Still, she looked over at her sleeping husband.  She wanted to curl into him, but then she caught the scent of orange and slipped out of bed instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mary said when she saw Amy approach the kitchen. Without asking, she pulled a mug from the cabinet and poured Amy a cup of coffee.

“Thanks,” Amy said.  She didn’t drink coffee often, but she appreciated the gesture.  “Can I help?” Amy added.

“Sure.  I’m making orange rolls for breakfast.  I’m going to make bacon and eggs too.  I want everything to be perfect for when Missy and the boys get here.”

Amy pulled her hair up and set to work next to her mother in law.  The pair worked on breakfast until George and Sheldon both appeared in the kitchen at the same time.  It seemed that the food sent a siren call to the Cooper boys, and they were both starving.

“We need to wait until your sister gets here,” Mary told them, but as soon as she went to go check on something in the other room Amy slipped them an orange roll split on two plates to share.

“Thanks, dear,” Sheldon said when Amy winked at him.

George looked over at Sheldon.  He was a little jealous about what Sheldon had.  He was twice married and twice divorced.  He didn’t think that he had that kind of connection with anyone.  But his attention was pulled away by Missy and the boys coming into the house.

Amy helped plate up food for everyone because she wanted to make sure that Mary had a nice Christmas with her family.  Amy was the outsider here, so she didn’t mind helping out a little.  Still, Sheldon pulled Amy away from that all soon enough.  He wanted her to be there when they all opened presents.  Somehow Amy ended up with a nephew on each knee and helping them open their gifts.

“Guys, let Aunt Amy open her presents too,” Missy insisted as she pulled her kids off of Amy’s lap.

“Oh.  They’re fine.  I don’t have anything to open.  Sheldon gave me a new bookcase when we were still in California,” Amy explained.  She had needed new storage for her books, and Sheldon had thoughtfully bought her a new bookcase and a Kindle.  He let her open that too so that she would have something for the plane ride.

“I think there are some from Santa,” Mary said with a grin to the boys.

“And we made you something,” Missy’s older son said.

Amy teared up when Sheldon’s family gave her a sweater and a picture frame and a book of poems.  She felt so loved by these people.  She really was a part of the family now.

[yoongiandchiminie]

P R E S S U R E { 8 }

;series;

{Part 1} {Part 7}

Pairing: Reader X Yoongi

Word Count: 6,181

Genre: Romance, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

Summary: After dating for almost 3 years, the armys and Yoongi’s label have found out about your relationship. Now you have to deal with it in your extraordinarily normal life.

The vacation was a dream. That’s really all I could say about it. It flew by so quickly that I could barely even depict a memorable moment from the hundreds that probably happened. However, we ended up in the hotel for the second part of it as people had found out we were in Disney.

The fourth day there, we were mobbed by a bunch of people once they had spotted Yoongi’s mint green hair. We decided to cut ourselves off from social media for the time away and just to focus on the happier aspects of life with each other. The break was nice, but turning it back on to see warning messages made me highkey regret doing so.

Being cut off from reality for the second half really did wonders for us. We ended up talking a lot and uh- not talking. We swam a lot too. Having down time with just the two of us was a rarity, so I was kind of thankful we were pushed out of the park. We got our time in there and enjoyed it (Along with the cute as hell pictures we took). I was just- happy.

Instead of driving back up, Yoongi insisted we fly and he’d get some company or something to have my car there before we were even back in New York. I’d refused at first, but the amount of complaining he put in to not sit in a car for a straight day again was too immense to ignore. There was a point where he threatened to fly up alone and when I realized he was serious, I gave in.

We quickly ran through the airports once someone yelled, “Suga!” and it just freaked me out. Yes, it’d been called out before, but after a week away (Except for that terrible day) it felt strange. It was tough for me to accept that Yoongi was famous, as weird as that sounded. I handled it very well, but coming to the realization that so many people just wanted a smile from him was one I didn’t take too well.

The flight was boring enough as always when I ended up alone. He passed out within the first half hour once we were in the sky and suddenly I was lost in the silence about the future. I’d have to call that guy when I got back and take care of my future. I was finally at the point in my life where I was able to pursue happiness and this came along. It fit right into the picture but actually pushing myself off to get there was a leap my anxiety was holding me from.

It was once we were back home that everything truly set in. Once I was laying in my own bed alone that I realized what was happening. Yoongi had gone to shower and do whatever he needed to which left me just to my thoughts. It was late at night now and all I wanted to do was sleep, but I was just consumed inside the ifs and buts of whatever could happen. I hadn’t even texted my friends I was home when I decided to call the guy from Modest.

Within three rings he picked up and it was the most excited I’d every heard anyone from getting a phone call from me. He was so obnoxiously chipper and eager as we spoke. It almost reeked of desperation was he set up a meeting for us tomorrow. He said he’d had a conference room in his hotel on hold for the past week awaiting my call. After giving me the address I was quick to get off of the phone before he arranged my entire life for me.

Once the call was over, Yoongi came into the room completely drenched because he’d heard me on the phone and wanted to tell me how proud he was as soon as he could. I shot the Slow Burn group chat a text about what time I’d be picking them up tomorrow. It was followed by one of me regretting saying I’d drive and begging one of them to do it. Luke answered quickly and said he’d drive, answering my prayers in an instant.

“Do you wanna get takeout and stay in?” he had a coy smile towards me in this empty house, “Your mom is staying at a friends tonight, so we have free roam of this place.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, placing a well deserved kiss upon him. “All alone?” I whispered, peppering kisses around his jawline. “Then we can be as loud as we want.”

“You wanna fuck already?” he was blunt, as always. “I mean- sure, but I’m kinda hungry, babe.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh at him. I let go of him and moved around his body, throwing a towel that was discarded in front of my door. He caught it and I pulled the door shut to leave him to put on clothes. For some reason the only thing on my mind was making grilled cheese, despite everything I had to think about.

Even as I cooked he was attached to my hip and it was quite endearing. As I stood in front of the stove, he rested his head on his shoulder and his hair tickled the bottom of my face. He arms wrapped around my waist, delicately landing on the swing of my hips. I couldn’t help but to giggle at it, but everytime I looked at him his eyes were closed as he hummed a little tune to himself.

The moment the grilled cheese was done and on a plate, he was running across the room to sit at the small table my mom and I had set up in the living room. Now he was playing a little rhythm on the table, his mouth watering as I made my way over. It was pretty funny how quickly he ate the entire things and I wondered just how long he’d been this hungry.

Yoongi grabbed my empty plate and his own. Being the kind gentleman he was, he cleaned them both before jogging back over to me with a blank look on his face. Once I stood up he ran his fingers through my hair and his face changed into a small smile. “Now?” I laughed a little before looking up to him and wiping a crumb from his chin.

“Now I’m kind of sleepy.” I smirked at him and pulled from his grasp. “I’m gonna nap.” I heard a short breath escape his mouth as I left the room but it wasn’t until I was about to shut the door that I heard him jogging in too.

“I’m always down for a nap.” he shut the door and grabbed my hand, falling back onto the bed with me on top of him. I wiggled off of him and instead next to him, facing away. He lifted himself up and placed a kiss on my temple before snuggling in behind me.

Sadly when I woke up it was due to the bright sun shining in my opened window. Normally before I sleep I put the blinds down due to the light that came through. I woke up completely confused and managed to knock Yoongi’s lose arm off of my side where it had been. He was sprawled across the best and I grabbed for my almost dead phone to check the time. It was about 8 am the next day.

The meeting was in 2 hours and I knew I had to get ready now. I didn’t intend to dress up for the event but my anxiety was slowly getting to me. The entire shower I took was filled with thoughts of what could go wrong if I don’t dress nicely instead of like a bum. I rushed out of the shower and ran into my room. I patted myself down and my throwing of the towel in Yoongi’s direction was the thing to finally wake him up. He shook as the moisture hit his face and sat up with a gasp, probably worried I dropped water on his face again.

He got up and stretched, walking past me towards the kitchen. I could hear everything he did in the silent house. I knew my mom was asleep still, she probably got home late, but Yoongi for a quiet guy was being so damn loud. He was opening the fridge and pouring water and then opening every cabinet to find the non existent food.

He came back in a few minutes later with a bowl of cereal and a tired look on his cute little face. “The meetings in an hour and a halfish right? Who’s picking you up? Puke?” I sighed at his comment and nodded yes. “Are you sure I can’t come? I’m good at these business meetings and stuff, babe. I don’t want you to get fucked over.”

“You know I’m not dumb, Yoongs. I’ve been pushing this deal off for so long so if the slightest thing is wrong, you know I won’t do it.” I jumped into my skinny jeans and tightened the cuffs on my shirt. I grabbed my makeup bag next and sat in front of the full body mirror on the floor to get to work.

“You better not blow this away because you’re nervous. Just think of everything you’ve written and poured your soul into. The world deserves to hear it all. I know you never even factored in the idea that this could be a career, but it’s going to be amazing. Slow Burn plays some nice music in various garages, so now it’s time for an upgrade.” Yoongi seemed very smug after his little speech. He always got like this when he knew he did something right and I knew it was the absolute cutest thing. It got a bit annoying when we were in arguments, but right now I appreciate it. Every time he’d show me how much he cared about me made me go crazy, in a good way. I was so in love with him that it made my heart skip a beat during times like these.

As I continued to get ready, he had disappeared from the room. I ended up settling on a black peasant top with lace sleeves and blue jeans so my entire appearance wasn’t as emo as I used to be. Everyone had those phases, okay?

Yoongi came back a few minutes later with breakfast and I was thoroughly confused at how he hadn’t set off the smoke alarm. The damn thing went off anytime there was something on the stove, but he didn’t seem to have the issues I did. Must’ve been magic. I thanked him and he just waved me off. Yoongi placed a kiss on my temple before getting back into my bed and snuggling up with a blanket that was laying in my spot.

With almost comedic timing, a honk woke him from his daze. I waved goodbye and I knew he was already probably back to sleep. After triple checking I had my keys (And looks good, of course) I ran out to Luke’s silver car waiting in the middle of the street.

I jumped into the backseat and pushed Julianna into the middle. Everyone else was already in the car since I lived the farthest away after moving and they all looked tired to say the least. If it wasn’t obvious, none of my friends were exactly morning people. Anthony was completely passed out in the passenger seat and drool was slowly dribbling down his chin. Before it could get any lower I grabbed one of the napkins I’d stored in the back and tucked it into his shirt so he wouldn’t appear messier than he already did.

Luke snickered at me and nodded a hello instead of speaking. Alicia was sitting with her headphones on and Julianna was drifting in and out of sleep as he drove. The music was on low, but I could hear the sounds of The Used in the car. It was one of Luke’s favorite bands and normally the band he listened to when he was nervous.

It hadn’t really occurred to me before that I wasn’t the only one affected with this. Of course I thought about all of them, but I’d been so focused on my nerves and anxiety that thinking about how scared they were was out of it. My friends were risking everything as much as I was and maybe it was time I came to terms with that.

The drive was only a few towns over so we basically had to take the parkway to get to it. Everyone slowly was waking up for the day and one by one I could see their anxieties rising about the situation. Everyone had their own little ways of dealing with it and they were enacting them right now. Julianna was over prepping her looks and such, Luke was lowly singing along to his music,  Alicia was just ramblings, and Anthony was attempting to order me around. Typical.

He was going on and on about how I needed to keep a level head during this meeting and not be a fuck up basically. I knew I’d be okay. As much as I bitched and bitched, I acted well under pressure.  Being the mom friend tends to give you that talent.

I envied Luke’s perfect parking as we got out of the car. I took a deep breath before walking towards the back of it and calling my friends together around me one last time before this meeting.

“We’re gonna be okay.” Was the only thing I could manage while trying to calm myself down without anyone else realizing I was freaking out. I nodded towards them and led the group into the hotel. Winston was standing in the lobby waiting for us and the man had the biggest smile I’d ever seen on when he spotted us.

“Oh hello!” he cheered, his accent accentuating his o’s. “I can’t believe you all showed up!”

“We said we would, right?” Anthony half questioned me and I just shrugged.

“After my run in with Y/N a bit ago, I wasn’t too sure!” I awkwardly smiled and extended my hand. He shook it hard and internally I sighed. “Alright, well let’s get going! My boss is inside the meeting room via skype waiting for us!”

The way he spoke just made me- cringe. I knew my friends felt it too, but they wouldn’t comment on it. Hopefully fucking Anthony would hold his tongue during this meeting and let me make the deals before he got us kicked out. That was normally what he was good at. Pissing people off.

Winston led us through the hotel and all I could focus on was my friends chatter behind me. They were all whispering around me about hoping I could handle this and such. Instead of flipping out on them, I took the smarter path and completely ignored them. Yep.

The room was vacant of people but set up with three computer screens. Two were lit up with two different men and the other wasn’t on. Maybe he was late or ditched it all together. The feeling in my stomach was telling me I should have done the latter, but I know blowing this chance would be the only thing I’d hear about for months to come.

“Welcome!” the man on the middle screen exclaimed as a Winston directed us each to our seats around the rounded table. “My name is Eddie Evans and I’m the president of the sector of Modest that would love to sign you.” A flutter went through my chest once he spoke the word ‘sign’. “There’s just a few things we have to go over.”

The other man on the screen to Eddie’s left had a nice smile on his face and even through the screen I could feel his friendly aura. “My name is Chris Luna and if you chose to sign, I’ll become your manager. We’ll work out the details of our meeting later on.”

Then we talked. They went over what was expected of us and what we wanted from them. They needed us all to quit our jobs and school as well. We needed to first sign a non disclosure agreement and then contracts that we could be willing to go to London for meetings and possibly to record. A studio would be set up in New York and London for us to practice, write, and record in.

It was all overwhelming, but I knew this would right. I knew this would make me happy.

As the meeting came to a close once all of the contracts were signed, we all got up to leave but Winston asked me to stay behind for a moment. Everyone made jokes as they made their ways out, but I knew something weird was up.

“Take a seat again.” he spoke, shutting the door behind. “I was made aware of your pre-existing contracts with Big Hit Entertainment due to your “relationship” with Min Yoongi.” The moment he put air quotes around the words relationship I wanted to snap. I wanted to freak out right then and there, but I knew I would ruin everything. I just had to take it. “We have a representative with us to just work out a few of those details.”

Then on the third screen that remained dark the entire time was him. Nam Hyungsik was on the screen and I was pissed I couldn’t avoid him for any longer. He was one of the higher ones at Big Hit in the relationships department and was always very wary of me. To put it into better terms, he hated my guts just for making Yoongi happy.

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N. How are you?” The sarcasm in his voice was so annoying. “We just want to make sure that this whole thing with you doesn’t change your contract with us. You still aren’t allowed to speak of the same things and try to avoid speaking of him as much as possible. If he’s asked about by an interviewer, say something nice and change the subject.”

He went on for about ten minutes about my rules and regulations. He basically kept repeating the same things over and over. I kept in my sighs and sour faces, simply nodding along. A part of me felt like crying for some reason and maybe it was just the sensitivity that I possessed. Him shoving this contract in my face felt like another invasion of privacy and it was just hurting for no good reason. I’d get over it. I always did.

The meeting ended with me resigning the contract and storming out of the room. My friends were lounging around all smiley in the lobby and I simply grabbed Luke’s keys from his hands and told them to come on. As much as I enjoyed driving in general, I liked it when I was angry.  My mind was removed from whatever was running through it and focused on the road in front of me.

They all paraded me with questions as they made plans for the dinner celebration that night. It was pretty obvious what it was about and when I told them the car was filled with a unanimous sigh.

“They’re such fucking assholes, I don’t get it.” I could see Alicia cross her arms in my rear view mirror and it made me laugh. “Don’t let this get to you, Y/N. We just got a fucking record deal and you’re caught up in this.”

“Yeah, shake it off bro.” Luke added, punching my shoulder. I pulled it in towards myself and made a sour face, to show the bit of pain he just provided me with. “Stop being so sensitive. Mentally and physically.” He was right, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing so.

“You know what?” I reached over and turned down the radio, putting the car in park at the red light. I grabbed Luke’s phone quickly and went into his library, playing our song Tonight and turning it up. “We just signed a fucking record deal!”

Then we all sang along and the only word I could use to describe it was amazing. This what Yoongi would say “daebak” to. Hearing our instruments flood the speakers and us all scream the lyrics we’d repeated for what felt like forever. Now they could be sang by whoever decided to listen and the truth of that made me want to cry. Music was fucking beautiful.

We made plans to all meet up later for dinner at a Hibachi restaurant a few towns over to celebrate. It was gonna be a small thing for us and our closest friends and family as a celebratory thing. I was dropped off first as I lived the farthest and Luke slid into the driver's seat, his long limbs floating over the console. I watched Ant climb over the back. The laziness they all possessed was somewhat alarming and would probably get them hurt one day, but what could I truly do about it? Right.

The front door was unlocked and my mother's car was nowhere to be seen. I slowly opened the door and spoke, “Hello?” only to find Yoongi on my laptop on the couch with the TV on full blast. “What a thing to walk into.” I said in a small tone, fully aware he couldn’t hear me.

“Did ya’ do it?” he called out while muting the TV and stretched his limbs, using his hand to beckon me over. I nodded and a soft smile appeared on his face. He used his other hand that wasn’t extended to pull out a small confetti cannon that I knew I’d be annoyed to clean up late at night after we both forgot about it.

After realized I wasn’t going to walk over to him, he jumped to his feet and ran at me. The moment he jumped onto me for a hug was the moment I thought I was really going to die. It wasn’t as if he was heavy, I was just so weak and we both knew it. It didn’t stop him from pushing me into the wall and keeping me in a tight lock for a good minute.

“I’m so proud of you.” he whispered into my hair, kissing the top of my head.  “Ah, my girl did it!” With that he couldn’t contain his excitement and lifted me up, spinning me in a circle. Sadly we were right against the wall and his lack of thinking made me knock over a plant, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He put me on the ground and it always amazed me how he was never out of breath after all that movement. If it was me, I’d probably be dead. I knew I’d have to tell him about Big Hit reaching out for me because he’d eventually be informed of it and it’d start an argument I could avoid. He just- he looked so happy right now and I knew I was about to ruin it.

“There is uh- Something else I need to tell you.” I began to stutter as I got nervous and he easily picked up on it. He furrowed his eyebrows in my direction and made his way back to the couch, sensing this could be important. He turned off the TV as I took a seat as far as I could from him while being on the same couch and swiveled my body forwards instead of towards him. “After the meeting was over I was held back for a moment due to my contract with Big Hit. They kept me for a bit to re discuss and affirm my contract.”

As I spoke I watched his face get progressively more annoyed and it ended with it in his hands. “You- You still there?” I whispered and after another three minutes of silence, he let out a long sigh before jolting onto his feet. He started pacing around the small living room and he pulled out his phone, rapidly typing away. “Yoongi?” I called again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m just pissed off. That’s all.” he waved me off and went back to aggressively typing away on his phone. I kicked off my shoes and tucked my knees into my chest, sighing along with my new enclosure. I began to rock myself back and forth and take deep breaths to try to cut out the angry noises he was producing in this moment.

If I watched him I knew I’d probably get upset about the situation. It wasn’t too big of a deal, but it was definitely enough to get us both riled up. I could just hear him in the back of my pushed thoughts. He was on the phone now and yelling in Korean so I had no clue what he could possibly be saying. I just knew it was angry. “Hey.” I spoke as he hung up the phone and began dialing a new number. “Please calm down. I- I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

I could feel his eyes glance at me a few times during his next angry phone call, but I continued retreating into myself. I mumbled out a few more apologies and tried to still my breathing. It wasn’t like I was hyperventilating, but I could feel my chest building up to do so. I was crying by this point but it was so muffled I wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t feel the sensation hitting my knees.

I wasn’t sure how much time was passing. I could just hear Yoongi yelling things I couldn’t understand. I was really only snapped back to reality when I felt his arms reach around me and untangle my limbs from being so close together. He maneuvered me around so that I was in his arms now. My face was in his chest and my arms dangled below my face.

“Ulji mala.” he kept repeating above me, which I could only recognize as “Don’t cry” in Korean. He spoke under his breath as he repeated it and rubbed my back. “Oh, baby, calm down.” he finally spoke in English. “I just overreacted, don’t-” he sighed and gave up on speaking to me.

In the moment I wasn’t too sure as to why I was freaking out the way I did. My emotions had been running so rampant lately and it was starting to piss me off. I never used to let my anxiety control me the way it had been and it seemed when everything was going right, something was still wrong. “Don’t get upset because I was yelling, I know I probably scared you or something.” I looked up at him and it seemed his anger had died down, turning into a pout now. “Smile or somethin’.” he whispered in my direction.

“Is it all okay?” I pondered out loud, making eye contact with him. His facial expression got a bit darker and I was fully aware he was ready to lie to me to make me feel better.

“They won’t let your contract go and I’m afraid that it’ll fuck things up for you now.” He was being blunt in this moment and I thoroughly appreciated it. There was no way I needed sugar coating in this moment.

“So-” I cleared my throat, fearing the words that were going to come out next. We both knew it was coming, but I knew he’d never address it. “Do you want to break up?”

Yoongi was taken back for a moment and squinted his eyes at me. He didn’t create any distance between our bodies and instead kept us close. “Do I what?” he questioned, probably hoping I wasn’t asking what he knew I was. “Is that a fucking joke?”

“I’m just in the way with contracts and-”

“What the fuck do contracts have on us? They have nothing on us.” he scoffed and now broke all physical contact with me to stand up and pace my living room.  “You think that’ll fix all our problems? We couldn’t even do another secret relationship, especially now that you’re making music. We’re already fucking trapped, Y/N, you can’t let them get in your pretty little head. Giving in won’t solve our problems.”

“But it-”

“No but. Don’t even try to break up with me again.” He was rude with the way he cut me off and responded, but I knew that I’d truly pissed him off. I’d brought this up in the past before and he’d absolutely lost it. He was mad at me for hours for thinking it and each time I said it, I promised I’d never do it again. Except, then I’d do it again and he’d blow another fuse.

I knew he wasn’t being possesive or anything of that sort with how quickly he shut it down. He just knew I was suggesting it because I was afraid and for all of the wrong reasons. I knew if the situation ever arose where we didn’t want to be together came up, he’d let me go. Probably not without a fight, but he would want what’s best for me.

“I won’t…” I mumbled to him, standing up and grabbing his wrist. He stopped his pacing and turned towards me, his eyes focusing on my own.

“You know-” he grunted, for some reason getting caught up in his own feelings. “I love you so much. Right, Y/N?” I nodded and let go of him. In an instant he pulled me tight into his chest, running his hands through my hair. “Don’t- Don’t break my heart when it doesn’t need to be done.”

On the brighter side of the spectrum, it would probably always be him that was best for me. The amount of love and joy Yoongi fed into my life was insane. The amount that I loved him overwhelmed me every day and the real kicker was that he loved me back. I was just- lost sometimes, but thankfully so was he. For two people that really had their lives together, we were both a fucking mess.

I looked up to him and placed my hands around his neck, tiptoeing so our faces were level. “I never will.” I promised, kissing his lips softly. It was a simply kiss, lingering a little bit. His eyes met mine as soon as they were open and before I could land on the flats of my feet again, he pulled me in for another kiss.

It lingered again and he began to walk towards me, causing me to back up with his movements. He didn’t continue just one kiss and instead Yoongi kept pulling away, but coming back in for another one almost instantly after. The next one he stopped and pulled on my lip for a minute before pulling away. I opened my eyes and looked into his and they’d become hooded and darker.

“We should celebrate, yeah?” his voice was huskier as he backed me into my bedroom. My face was hot and so was- fuck. Fuck. Yoongi was also so fucking hot and fuck. “Right, baby girl? Celebrate? I know you can use your words. Come on~.” he teased me for having no response and kissed a line from my lips to my ear, “Speak to me.”

“Right, daddy.” I whispered to him as he continued to trail kisses down to my neck. He settled on a spot and slowly lowered me back, the level of my bed making it difficult to simply drop me onto it. He was being gentle even though I knew every bone in his body was fighting him on it.

“You’re just so- fuck.” Yoongi took the words straight out of my thoughts as he reached down and pulled my shirt over my head. I repeated the motion with him as he quickly undid my jeans before yanking those off as well. He let me go down on the bed and stood off, stepping out of his own sweatpants. He lowered himself again and hovered above me, his eyes scanning every inch of my being in the moment. He took a long inhale and completed it with the same exhale. “Fuck.” he repeated and leaned down to kiss me again.

This one was more passionate than the last, not breaking for even a moment. Our lips moved in sync as if they were performing like we’d both be soon in the future. Our tongues danced together, both fighting for dominance before his finally won. He moved from my lips down my chest, landing at my clothed breasts. He kissed around the lacey black material before snaking his hands around my back and undoing it. He slid the straps down my arms before removing it all together.

“So beautiful.” he whispered as his hand cupped around my breasts. He kissed down my stomach and stopped above the matching black panties I had on. His darkened eyes met with my half lidded ones and he just chuckled to himself. “You want it, baby?” I nodded and he wasn’t having any of that. “Just use your words and I can give you the world. You’re such a mess and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Y-Yes.” I stuttered, overwhelmed from the confidence that always wreaked from him during sex. He simply smirked and bit the top pulling my panties all the way around my ankles. He yanked them off completely and tossed them behind him, landing somewhere in the closet.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” he muttered to me, as his hands grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him. Before I could ask him to, his tongue met my entrance and began to explore each and every crevice of my being. Every movement was so precise as I got closer and closer to my breaking point.

“Yoongi- fuck-” I moaned. I could feel his lips regain his smirk as he became quicker with his actions. He brought his digits towards my entrance, two of them easily slipping inside. He curled them, easily making my body twist in pleasure. My eyes faded shut but I could feel his gaze on me. All at once he stopped and I knew he wanted my eyes to meet his. I succeeded to his will and he began to move his fingers again, even adding a third.

He could feel my getting close and pulled his fingers out, licking a line up my slit. “Fuck, you taste so good, Y/N.” he breathed hot air onto me and he licked his lips, chuckling again after. He sucked on his fingers for a moment, making sure to keep eye contact with me while doing so. He stood up from the bed for a moment and stretched, taking off his boxers right after.

“Are you ready?” he asked me, full well knowing the answer. I nodded, letting out a huff of air and he hovered me again, lining his cock with my entrance. He pushed into me all at once, causing a chill to be sent through my body. He paused for a moment, watching my face for my reaction. “You’re so cute…”

“Stop-” I began to say before I was interrupted by him moving. He moved at a fast pace, but seemed to be enjoying every moment of it. My mind felt like it was moving as fast as he was and I couldn’t help but to realize how lucky I was. Before I could even dwell on it for another second, I felt myself close and began to clench. The way he bit his lip made me knew he wanted to tease me, but the nod he gave me let me know it was okay.

He slowed down as I came, completely stopping at one point to catch his breath along with me. He leaned up and kissed my forehead before starting to fuck me again. This time it was more sensual as he fucked me until he hit his high. Without any words he came inside of me, his rested body pressed against mine but his flat palms keeping his weight from collapsing onto me.

He pulled out and I felt his cum dribble out of me, neither of us bothering to fix the mess it was about to cause. He rolled over me and onto my left side, pulling my body into his before pulling a sheet on top of us. “I love you.” he whispered against my hair, kissing at it after he spoke.

“I love you too.” I quickly responded, closing my eyes.

As complicated as our lives were, everything just seemed so simple when it came to Min Yoongi.

Author’s Note: Ah, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I missed updating this haha

Next part  →

[im-the-king-of-what]

A New House, a New Home

In January when Luke had told Johnathan he thought they should move, he was shocked. At first Johnathan rejected the idea telling him that this was the house of his children and he could never leave their memory behind, but then he realized that completely contradicted what he wanted. Johnathan wanted to forget he ever got married to the bitch, but mostly he wanted to forget it was her fault his children were ripped away from his hands all too soon. Luke had meant well, and he knew it too, so finally Johnathan agreed. Luke kept him in the dark for the longest time until in early April when he stood on the kitchen counter at breakfast and announced to the world "We're moving!"

The next few weeks Johnathan had spent packing boxes while Luke had their furniture shipped off to their new home. Luke had said that Ohm was at their new house taking care of most things, giving no specifics of the house itself. So when Ohm had asked if Johnathan was excited to move to California Johnathan froze. California, where a few of his new friends live. He of course froze up. He couldn't let his friends meet him in person, but what's the chances of running into them. California is, after all, a large state.

When it was time to say goodbye to the house Johnathan lingered in the doorway a little longer than he meant to. But that was okay. Everyone understood that this house was a home to his happiest an sadist memories. He stood watching his son running around the living room butt naked pretending to be an airplane while Johnathan chased after him with a bath towel. Once he caught his son Johnathan smiled and said his final goodbye. He saw Luke leaning against the jeep with Bryce and Ryan sitting in the backseat chatting away. This was the start of a new life.

Luke got in the driver's seat, and John followed to sit beside him in the passenger seat. "I call music duty!" Bryce took the aux cord plugging in his phone and playing some indie music Johnathan had never heard before. Still he found himself liking it anyways.

He enjoyed the conversations the four would have, he enjoyed Bryce and Ohm harmonizing to what ever song they both knew. He even enjoyed it when they rolled down the windows and shouted "SO LONG NORTH CAROLINA!" Even Luke pitched in, but he didn't lean out the window like the others did. Johnathan felt fifteen all over again. When it was just him, Luke, and Ohm against the world. They'd drive anywhere they wanted, do anything they wanted. Nobody could tell them what to do, and that's what it feels like now. No one can tell them what to do. Because now they're free.

The twenty hour ride was long and somewhere in that time Johnathan and Luke had switched places. They were somewhere in Texas, beyond exhausted, when Bryce had booked a motel room for the four of them. Usually Johnathan would refuse to stay in an unfamiliar place, but at this point he could barely keep his eyes open.

He couldn't remember stripping down into his boxers, or falling asleep in the uncomfortable bed. However he did remember that Christmas morning. He remember opening his front door expecting to see his ex wife with his children but instead they were replaced with large box wrapped in shining green wrapping paper and topped with a giant red bow. The box was fairly heavy a stunk of rotting meat. But he ignored it...no matter how strange it is. He unwrapped his gift, but when he opened the box he fell over in tears.

Johnathan jumped awake, breathing heavily and tears streaming down his face. Arms tightened around his waist and he looked down to see Luke looking back up at him. "It was just a nightmare. It's over now." Johnathan took in a deep breath calming himself down, before lying back down and curling into Luke's safe arms. "It's over. I promise." Johnathan felt Luke kiss his forehead before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

The sun rose bright and brilliant, and the four boys woke with it. Of course Luke didn't want to wake up and shower. Once three of the four were done showering Ohm made a journey to grab ice water, which Johnathan stole and poured all over Luke. Luke was wide awake and of course chasing Johnathan down with what was left of the bottle. "Come on you two we don't have all day!" Ohm crossed his arms watching as Luke wrestled with Johnathan on floor. "Luke meet us down stairs for breakfast when your done showering. Alright?"

Luke stood not even bothering to help Johnathan up and gathered his clothes for the day. "Alright, alright. But y'all better not eat all the food."

Johnathan chuckled pulling his hand to hide his smile. "Better not take too long then."

Luke grumbled to himself as he made his way into the bathroom, and the others went down stairs to enjoy breakfast. They sat at a small table chatting away, discussing the people they remember from high school, Ohm talked about the people he's met in California, Bryce talked about how he and Ohm met. It had Johnathan smiling, forgetting. They snacked on some poorly made waffles and eggs, which Johnathan drenched in syrup. It helped the food taste better in his opinion. After a long wait Luke has finally sat down with a plate off food jumping into the conversation of how Bryce would look good in a dress. They gathered many strange looks from people sitting at tables next to them, but they didn't care, they were free.

After Luke finished his plate he looked at his phone checking the time. "Well we better hit the road." The four threw away their trash and went back to their room to gather their things.

Bryce smiled deviously as he stuffed his clothes in his backpack. "You know what I think would be sexy?"

Ohm didn't look up on crossed the room to grab a shirt Johnathan had thrown. "Aside from you in a tutu, what?"

"Luke in a bikini."

Luke looked up, confidence painted across his face. "Damn right bitches!"

Laughter erupted in the room, and for a minute Johnathan pitied the family next door. Once the laughter died down the four were back on the road again and this time straight to California. Johnathan hand no idea where exactly in California he'd be living, but that was part of the surprise.

It was late in the night and Luke had started driving once they reached Arizona. Ohm slept with his face against the backseat window, and Bryce was laying in his lap snoring. Johnathan had taken over the music playing some rap music for Luke to sing along too, and every once and a while he would doze off. He was asleep and didn't notice the jeep was parked in front of his new home. "Wake up Princess." Luke shook Johnathan awake then pulled him out of the car. "Welcome to San Diego." Johnathan stood dumb founded. The two story house was painted baby blue with a decent sized front yard. The front porch wasn't nearly as large as his home back in North Carolina but he would get over the downgrade. After all he couldn't expect too much from a suburban house. Johnathan felt something cold and metallic slip into his hand. "Go inside look around. I'll take the other two home. Night." Luke playfully shoved Johnathan before walking back to the car waiting for Johnathan to go inside before leaving.

Inside his furniture was already arranged some boxes littered the living room. The kitchen was large and when opening the cabinets he took a mental note that they needed some work. Which he didn't mind fixing. He used to be the handyman of the house, that is until he fixed everything. The granite needed to be cleaned and the floors needed to be swept, but it was a fairly attractive kitchen none the less.

The formal dining room would probably never be used, but maybe one day it will. The chandler that sat on the ground would have to be hooked up in the morning so it wouldn't get broke. That would be easy. The living room was smaller than his last one and was separated from the kitchen with a half wall. It was...different. But he can adjust.

There were four decent sized bedrooms, that Johnathan was sure two of them would be turned into offices, two down stairs and the other two upstairs. A single bathroom took refuge in the hallway beside the living room, just across from the linen closet under the stairs. The bathroom was large enough to have a shower, toilet and sink. Johnathan was thankful for that. Just beside the bathroom was a small laundry room, already equipped with a washer and dryer.

Upstairs he found a small full bathroom between the two bed rooms, and at the end of the hall, past the master bedroom, a window seat. Johnathan could see himself spending many day sitting there, sadly the seat had a perfect view of his neighbors home and yard. Such an invasion of privacy. Finally Johnathan went to explore the master bedroom, which would be his room. It was large, larger than his last. His bed placed below a window his dresser already built and put against the wall across from the bed. Two doors caught his attention, and so he opened the one closest. A walk in closet, stuffed full with boxes. He closed the door and walked to the other opening it and peeking inside. A bathroom the size of the closet painted ocean blue and decorated with white tile stood behind the door. It had both a shower and a tub he could easily soak in.

He closed the door and smiled. He'd have more time to explore tomorrow for now he wanted to sleep. And so he did.

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[demondean-for-kingofhell]

If You Only Knew

Part 3: Inhibitions || This is a repost to fix the masterlist.

You paced the house, your mind racing. He was severely unhinged; he had to be. To bring a complete stranger into… a mob hit? Was that what you witnessed last night?

Although, you hadn’t actually witnessed the hit. You saw Sam with the gun… and heard it go off. That didn’t mean Sam actually shot that kid. Right? Of course not. The way he treated you, how sweet he was… there was no way he shot Adam.

You nearly went into cardiac arrest when your cell phone rang and rushed over to it. “Dea- sir?”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you… you don’t need to call me Sir,” Dean grinned into the phone, pausing. “Unless it’s in the bedroom.”

You rolled your eyes at his stupid joke. “How can I help you, sir?” After the night you’d had, you weren’t in the mood to deal with his bullshit. You paid enough attention to him that you were able to hum a few times, agree to something, and then get off the phone with him before he could ask if you wanted him to come over.

You spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to get the image of that young kid out of your head. You’d left your phone on silent after your call with Dean, opting to deal with whatever people needed the next morning.

When you woke up, you were surprised to see a message from Sam.

If you’re up for it, I’d love to see you again.

He was giving you an out.

Or was he?

You shook your head and ignored the text. You were supposed to be playing hard to get anyway.

By noon, your nerves were frayed beyond repair. You went for a pedicure, hoping that would at least lift your mood. You even stopped for coffee on your way home, leaving your government-issued sedan in the driveway.

You noticed them as you neared the front door.

Dozens of flower arrangements, littering your front porch. In the center of the largest arrangement was a small card with ‘Kate’ written on it. You stepped through the flowers, making your way to the card. When you opened it, you saw a messy handwriting that you assumed was Sam’s.

‘Please give me another chance. Tonight, 7pm?’

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled; someone was watching. You hastily shoved the card into your pocket, leaving the flowers on the porch and stepping into the house. You quickly shut the door, falling back against it.

“What the fuck…?” You breathed, your eyes on the ceiling.

The next few days went without any weird incidences. As you came in from grocery shopping, you were barely able to save the paper bags in your arms as your eyes bugged out of your skull. A box of Debauve & Gallais’s Le Livre sat innocently next to not one, but six bottles of Dom Perignon 2003 Rosé.

You admitted that you didn’t know much about them, but your desktop and Google did. You nearly choked on your water when you saw the price tags. “$550 for chocolate is…” you trailed off and put in a quick search for the champagne. “Christ! 330 dollars?! Each!”

You tapped the touch screen to close the browser and shoved everything in the fridge, not wanting to look at it a second longer. You couldn’t stop the thrill that went through you at knowing Sam was spending so much money to win your attention.  Though it was a thrill you immediately slapped away; this was work. You couldn’t let yourself lose focus.

You forced your mind to think of something other than Sam all night. Anything else.

Instead you just went to bed frustrated.

By the fourth day you were itching to text him back with an excuse, erasing half of a message four different times before you went on a run, leaving your phone at home to keep you from temptation.

You came back not an hour later to a box on your porch. That solidified your theory; he was definitely having you watched.

You grabbed it and hurried inside, locking the door behind you. Although that didn’t seem to help keep Sam out. You unwrapped the box, not sure what to expect. A black dress caught your eye, along with strappy gold high heels.

You snorted and shook your head. He was definitely getting desperate. You told yourself to stay strong and hung the dress in the front of your closet, knowing you would end up wearing it on your next outing with Sam.

The next morning you were woken by a UPS driver hand delivering a small box to your door, making sure you signed and checking your ID twice. Well, your fake ID. You knew it had to be from Sam, he was the only one you were using a false identity with.

You sighed and ripped open the brown box, moving the bubble wrap and lifting out a black velvet jewelry case with gold trim. Great. You pulled open the box, your jaw dropping as you caught sight of the necklace inside. There was a piece of stationary stuck to the inside of the lid and you carefully pulled it out.

I’ll pick you up Friday. Wear this with the black dress.

-Sam

You had to admit you were impressed, but this was not getting a call back from you. You set the necklace on your dresser gently, stripping down to get into the shower. One good thing about working undercover was your beauty regimen was amped up. After being bored all morning, you went to get a facial and your eyebrows waxed; something you had been meaning to do for a long time.

You grabbed your cell as it rang, checking to make sure it wasn’t Sam before ignoring it. Not that it would kill him to actually call you.

“What the fuck?!” you barely had time to press the brake as you whipped the sedan into your driveway to avoid bumping fenders with a brand new 2017 Tesla Model S, complete with a bow on top.

You let out a heavy sigh and stared at the shiny vehicle as it if had personally offended you. This was getting out of hand. You couldn’t have totaled what he had spent on you this week if you tried.

You grabbed your cell and dialed his number.

--

“So, what was it, Kate? Maybe the necklace, it’s gorgeous though not quite as you are.” He saw the look you gave him. “No, no, it was the car. I knew you’d call after you saw it.” He gave you a smug smile, perched next to you on the backseat of the SUV.

“Sam, you really don’t have to do all of this.” You waved your hands vaguely, trying to encompass all the gifts that weren’t even with you.

“I know I don’t have to,” he whispered in your ear. “I want to.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t send a shiver up your spine. He leaned in closer, putting an arm around your shoulders. “I can give you whatever you want, Kate. You name it, and it’s yours.”

Your confession to operating the biggest drug smuggling ring in 100 years would be nice.

“Sam, really.” You protested weakly, those hazel orbs boring into you. Your next sentence was swallowed by his lips when he pressed his mouth to yours, a hand sliding up your thigh to grab your ass, kneading gently with his fingers.

You could get lost in kissing this good. You responded immediately, arching your body up towards his, trying to get closer to him.

Too soon he was pulling away, leaving warm breath on your neck as he chuckled lightly. “I knew you’d call.”

--

Yep, you had definitely drank too much.

Enough to lower your inhibitions on the way home from the club. You grinned as you climbed into Sam’s lap, somehow keeping your clothes on and not fucking him in the backseat.

Or maybe you hadn’t had enough to drink. You were fully aware of his presence behind you as you shoved the front door open after a night out with him.

He watched as the SUV pulled away and locked your door, a small smile gracing his lips as he watched you kick off your shoes, the dress hugging every curve on your body. He wanted you; and your week long game of denying him would cost you dearly.

“Kate, where is the Dom Perignon?” He called as he moved into the kitchen.

“Fridge!” You yelled from somewhere in the back of the house. Sam grinned and pulled the first bottle he could reach, frowning when he realized the box of chocolates was unopened. He tore his eyes from the fridge, searching three different cabinets before finding champagne glasses.

You leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, watching Sam move around the room as if he belonged there. He handed you a glass and you took a sip, the drink a little too dry for your taste.

“So,” he ventured. “Took you long enough to call me back.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well ignore the beast of a car in my driveway now, could I?” You smirked over the rim of your glass.

He only gave you a half smile in return, a dark promise in those hazel eyes you loved so much.

“Come on, to bed with you.” He held his hand out and you took it, letting him lead you up the stairs and down the hall, following your direction to get to your room.

--

“Answer me when I ask you a question,” he whispered seductively into your ear. You shivered, shutting your eyes and tilting your head as he kissed your skin. You weren’t sure how you’d ended up here, standing in the middle of your bedroom with Sam, but you knew he had his hands on you, and you never wanted it to stop.

“Yes.. yes please.” You could feel the smirk on his lips as he pressed another kiss to your neck.

He had the gold zipper of your little black dress all the way down your back, not yet taking the material off your body. “Yes what? You gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

You needed to stop, to pull away. This was your chance. Your mind was telling you to think, to not let it go too far.

It was a case.

Sam Winchester was a damn criminal.

He was running the most dangerous drug operation of the last century.

“Yes, please, fuck me.” The words spilled out before your brain had time to process them. You whimpered when his hand trailed down your back, his fingertips skimming and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Sam…”

His hand was suddenly in your hair, fingers tangling in your locks and tugging gently. “I’ve got you, sweets.” You were already weak in the knees, desperate to feel his body pressed to yours, desperate for another kiss or tug of your hair, and he knew it. He pulled away from you and let your hair cascade down your back once more. You adjusted, wanting to feel him again, but he disappeared. “Keep your eyes closed, pretty girl.”

You kept still and did as he told you, waiting for something. You weren't sure what. Before you could think too hard, the black dress was pushed down your shoulders, off your arms until it slid down your body and pooled at your feet.

“Go ahead.” You almost jumped at his voice, but then he tapped your thigh gently. You understood and lifted your leg, stepping out of the dress. “Good girl.” His words made heat pool in your stomach. Sam chuckled. “Glad to know you like that.”

You were shaking under his touch. Sam could feel the barely-there shiver as he stood tall, green hazel eyes taking you in. His hand went over the lace bra, and a smirk appeared on his lips when you moved, arching your back just enough for him to cup your breast. “Sam.” His name was quickly followed by another whimper.

Sam moved behind you, unclasping your bra and letting it drop to the floor before he took your hand and finally led you to the bed. “You can open your eyes, sweetheart.”

When you finally did, you were standing between his legs and his hands were on your waist, a predatory smile on his lips. “You’re still dressed.” You were a little dumbfounded, cheeks flushed pink at his laugh.

“I am.” There was that smirk again. He left you standing as he started unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes never left yours, and it took all your self-restraint to not go for his pants. His eyes followed yours when they drifted down. “I’m impressed. You hate the slow burn, yet you’re being a good girl for me, doing as I say.”

“And if I wasn’t a good girl?” You challenged, biting your lip.

“Do you really wanna find out?” He asked, both hands on your hips, forcing you to take a couple steps back. He stood again, towering over you. “Answer me, Kate.”

“Yes.”

The silence was almost deafening as you both stared each other down, then suddenly his hand was back in your hair, tugging until your head tilted back. “Bad girls don't get to cum, Katie. You sure you wanna play games with me? I don’t think you can handle it.”

You shut your eyes once again, moaning softly when he pulled again on your hair.

You weren’t sure when he moved, but he was standing behind you now. His chest was to your back as he stepped forward, forcing you to move until your knees hit the bed. He didn’t have to instruct you. You climbed up, ready to fall on your back when he grabbed your hip. “No. Just like this, darlin. Gotta show you who's in charge here.”

“I don’t think I can show you from here, Sammy,” you teased, though he couldn’t see your mischevious smile. You jumped when his hands went to your panties, pulling until they were down your thighs. He lifted your left knee, then the right to get rid of them and slipped his hand between your legs, fingertips barely brushing against your pussy. You pushed your ass back against him for more, but he quickly pulled away.

“Don’t get greedy on me.”

You weren’t expecting the smack that landed on your ass, though it drew a loud, needy moan from you.

“Learning more and more about you every minute, huh? You like saying you’re a good girl, though you clearly push the limits.” He smacked you again. “You like getting punished for talking back. Hmm.”

“Sam, please…” He had been right about everything he’d said so far, including that you hated the slow burn. You were gripping the sheets on the bed by the time you heard the zipper of his pants. You stared forward at the headboard, tempted to glance back to see if that would earn you another slap on your ass.

He dug his wallet from his back pocket and grabbed the condom he’d slid in there before picking you up for your date. He dangled the small package from his teeth so he could get his hands on his slacks, finally getting rid of them as you waited impatiently on the bed.

You finally glanced over your shoulder to see him rip the package open with his teeth. He locked eyes with you and smirked as he rolled the condom on. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

You blushed as his eyes roamed your ass and thighs, pupils blown with lust. “Guess not, sir.” You saw a genuine grin replace his smirk. “Looks like I’m finding out what you like too then, Sam.”

“Face the headboard.” His tone held no room for argument, and you turned just as you felt the bed dip behind you, your breath catching in your throat as a riot took place in your head. You turned again when his hand went to your lower back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at you. “Sweets, really now?” His hand slid up your back and tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck. You suddenly found your head against the mattress, his weight keeping you immobile.

You could feel his cock pressed against your ass and you tried in vain to wiggle your hips, hoping to spur him into action. He only pressed harder against you, using one of his knees to wedge your thighs apart.

You were white knuckling the bed sheets, small gasps leaving your lips with every small movement he made. “Sam…” Your voice was too high pitched to your own ears, needy and desperate for a man you barely knew to fuck you into next week.

“I told you to be a good girl, and you didn’t listen.” Sam’s voice rang in your ears as he smacked your ass harder than the first few times. His cock was at your entrance, and whatever smart-ass remark you had ready for him disappeared from your mind as he filled you in one smooth motion, his breath hissing between his teeth. “Goddamn, pretty girl. Fuck!”

Your own expletive was lost in the sheet as your muscles clenched around him, and you were so glad he paused for a second, even if it was just to press a kiss to your spine. He started a quick rhythm, each stroke sure and deep. He let go of your hair only to grab onto your hips, making sure he controlled every second of pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck,” he muttered again. “Look so goddamn beautiful like this.” His breath was ragged as he fucked you into the mattress. You whimpered at this words, your hand slipping between your thighs. Your fingertips had barely grazed over your clit when his voice echoed off the hardwood floors. “No. Not yet. Hands above your head, Kate. You know what happens to bad girls.”

“Yes sir,” you whimpered, both hands reaching above your head to grab the headboard. You could already feel the muscles in your lower belly tightening as you neared release. “Like this, sir?” You weren’t sure how you managed those three words at all.

Sam wanted to chuckle at your question, knowing well that you were fucking with him, but he settled for increasing the pace, pounding into you almost brutally, each thrust hitting your g-spot with expert accuracy.

“You’re close, baby girl.” He growled, fingers digging into your hips. He refused to give you even an inch of power, keeping you locked in that position as he chased after his own high. “I can feel it. Let go for me, baby.”

You could only take what he gave you, your body absorbing every little movement. You screamed out loud when your orgasm hit you like a freight train, fire erupting in your belly as white spots danced behind your closed eyelids.

Sam never let up on you, quickly bringing you to a second orgasm before he was near finished with you. Your body was already spent when he buried his cock deep inside of your fluttering walls and came with a loud cry of your name. You could feel your cum trickling down your thighs, and his chest was pressed against your back as he fought for control of his breathing.

“Good girl.” He praised you as his hands finally let go of your hips, one slipping around your waist as he drug you both onto your sides, his cock slipping from your pussy with an obscene wet sound. You hummed softly, letting him hold you close as you laid there, your mind racing with the realization of what you had just done.

What was worse was you didn't want him to go; to leave you alone in this huge house that you hated. When his arms disappeared from around your waist, you almost panicked. “Sam?”

“Yeah sweetheart, give me a minute.” He disappeared from your bedroom into the adjoining bathroom. You propped yourself up on your elbow and watched as he padded across the floor after a minute, coming back with a towel. “On your back.”

You obeyed without a second thought, managing to keep your squirming to a minimum as he cleaned up your thighs with the towel, making sure to take softer strokes over your pussy.

“Better?” He pressed a kiss to your left thigh. You nodded, and he laid back down next to you. “Sleep, baby girl.”

You were already dozing off, but you kept your tired eyes open until his arms were back around your waist, pulling you across the bed until you were pressed against his naked chest. The warmth and pressure of his body against yours was comforting, and it didn’t take long for your breathing to even out.

Sam ran his fingers through your hair and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Good night, princess.”

@bailieinabottle for you sweetie!