#I needed a five minutes break from my sea of school work

[jaegonsmoon]

Duuude…abo mating run…omega aegon doesn’t want to be mated or tamed by an alpha and has ruined all opportunities for his arranged marriage proposals made by his family…he is forced into a annual mating run by his mother now but aegon is determined to outrun all those bastards and stick it to his family….this doesn’t not happen and ends up claimed by jace of all people and he is then dragged to dragon stone kicking and screaming 😂

Lmao! HE WOULD! I can see him throwing the biggest tantrum in history. He is being carried, he’s cussing the life outta everyone present, coming up with the most creative insults. He swears to make everyone’s life a nightmare, a living hell (I believe him).

While Jace is well collected in all his alpha prince glory as always. Coming home like, “Mother, I’ve caught a mate.” And it’s Aegon fucking Targaryen.

Mind you, Rhaenyra didn’t know he had gone to the run, nobody did (expect Luke, ofc he knew) he snuck in and actually won, because he’s Jacaerys Velaryon, heir of crown princess Rhaenyra and he’s used to getting what he fucking wants. (Daemon is loving this so much, no one expected less).

Alicent threw a bigger fit than Aegon, but there was nothing anyone could do, the boy had won the omega and he had done it by the rules. Such a clean caught.

Aegon… he’s fighting an inside battle as well as the one outside. One, his heart always fluttered around Jace, it was a feeling he couldn’t shake ever since they were kids. Second, his hate for alphas and this mating bullshit is too strong, and not even beautiful, gorgeous Jacaerys can tame it… he’s serious, why are you all laughing—

The realm is fascinated with the situation, while the Targaryens and Hightowers are at each other’s throat over it.

Alicent is like “don’t worry Aegon, we will save you!” to which Aegon is like “Save me? And return with you all?! On second thought, I’d rather be my bastard nephew’s whore.”

And it is out of spite that he ends up caving in, though once Jace starts wooing him he is a gone man. Done for. He is a wife now.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

tag list part one -

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[magnolia-among-the-stars]

she got the best of me (jake seresin pt.9/12)

PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

Warning: A bit of self-body shaming

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

Jake began reaching out immediately the morning after his birthday to try and beg for the opportunity to try to fix his mistakes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love his groveling, but it did little to alleviate the growing ache in your ribcage, right below your clavicle where the hurt burned. There was a gaping hole where your security used to be nestled, the comfort of a humming rhythm that sounded like independence.

He’d struck out twice and you really weren’t trying to go for a third go. But even so, you now hated the space you existed in, cursing at the emptiness of the couch cushions and the perfectly placed knit blanket being exactly where you left it the last time it was used. You hated your coffee maker, waiting patiently for you to brew the first fresh pot in the morning. It was too quiet, too perfect and you missed Jake’s touch in everything that you had become. You hated it.

You’d began to pick back up with your shifts at the Hard Deck the day after Hangman’s birthday, no longer afraid to approach the old memories after having the opportunity to call him out on the bullshit. He’d yet to show up after work for his usual beer, perhaps too afraid to face your seething wrath in person or not quite able to afford the possibility of Penny ringing the bell the minute he came into her line of site.

The line went silent after a week or so and you were grateful to learn that Mav had set up a training exercise that would take them out to sea for a week, the time to think without the looming of his presence on North Island would be a fresh breath of air. It gave you just enough peace to wrap up your final revisions to your Thesis for school, to focus enough to present in front of your faculty.

After the closed presentation wrapped, you were left alone in the empty hallway of the college awaiting the news of the decision to graduate you. Wearing a floral jumpsuit and denim jacket, your leg bounced unapologetically while you tried to find a comfortable resting spot for your leg.

Silence was deafening as it ate away at your confidence, leaving you to pick persistently at your cuticles when a door burst open down the hall. A flood of bodies seeped through the seemingly small, framed door through the patches of white light. It was blinding but you recognized the khaki service uniforms easily and stood when Nat’s face sharpened in the natural light of the hallway. “You’re back,” you comment, rising to your feet to wrap your arms around her, Aries collecting the two of you in her arms tightly.

“We just got off the boat a half an hour ago,” Nat explains, pulling back so that you can hug the rest of the squad.

“We didn’t want you to be alone while you waited for the decision,” Gemini muses as she rubs your back, a soothing and calm gesture from the quiet WSO. The comment warmed your heart as you took in all the faces, all except for –

“He didn’t think you’d want to see him,” Fanboy comments before you even get the chance to process the lack of Jake’s face in the crowd. And though the sentiment is genuine and kind of him, a considerate thought, you’d never needed his presence more as you awaited the future decision that would make or break your career.

Mav, ever the head of the found family, stepped through the crowd to hug you tightly. “Penny is setting up a barbeque tonight in celebration of your success,” his change of topic swift, “Like a graduation party in the backyard.”

“And then Rooster and I are going to see up a bonfire on the beach for after,” Payback remarks, nudging the tall, broad man. Rooster nods, his mind elsewhere as he tries to smile.

“I don’t know if I’ve passed,” you admit honestly, the quiver in your tone evident to the pilots surrounding you and showering you with love. It warms your heart and makes you take a shaky breath, curling into a smile. Eventually, everyone lays out on the waiting benches and the tiled floor. They share their stories of training, as much as the confidentiality of the military allows.

It’s in the quiet of the hallway of your university that Bob and Gemini share the news of their engagement. “Wait, what?” you ask, staring back and forth between the two. Blooming blushes seep through their cheeks as they lean into one another. You take in their comfortability, the closeness and the rings resting against the metal of their dog tags. “I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised with the way the two of you always snuck off together. I’m assuming pre-North Island?”

“Three years back in Lemoore,” Gemini quips, staring up at Bob lovingly.

“Good god you two are patient,” you giggle just as there is a click of a lock across the hall, and everyone freezes. Slowly, the door creeps open and your faculty mentor appears with a wide smile. You feel sheepish in the moment, your family surrounding you and crowding the hallway.

“We’re ready for you, dear,” her voice is gentle as she nods to the room, smiling around at all the pilots on the floor. You nod, bite your lip as you stand on shaky knees and cross the floor to follow her in the room. Minutes later, you return to the hallway and to the bitter silence. Only knowing the group to be a rowdy bunch of beer drinkers, you were shocked to be met with such a wall of silence when you return to the hallway a few minutes later.

“I passed,” you announce to the group, sobs of excitement coaxing out of your throat, and you jump up and down in your best friends’ arms. The hallway erupts in a roar of ovations, rising to their feet to join in the circle of elation. Javy lifts you through the air in delight while Mav wipes a few tears from his lashes, proud of the woman you’d become.

The noise is so frightening, your mentor comes back through the door as concern dissipates at the celebration. She’s sweet when she asks you all to move out of the building for the respect of the offices while laughing. Fanboy joins your car, praising you as you all make a brigade down the road to get to Penny’s house. When you turn the corner to her street, Rooster begins to honk the horn of his blue Bronco, an echoing mirage of horns blaring as the cars pull up outside the house in a single formation.

The notion and attention make you laugh in embarrassment, though you’re not truly embarrassed. Honored is more like it, you pinpoint just before you climb out of the vehicle and follow the cheering crowd through the doors into the house. Amelia sees you first, rushing up to you and squeezing you tightly around the middle.

            “There she is,” Penny’s voice echoes through the kitchen as she comes around the corner, joining in the hug as the pilots make their way outside into the decorated backyard. “My niece, a professor,” she coos and tightens her grip slightly.

            “I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs, knowing the struggle you have around genuine compliments. “Someone begged me to come in, I hope you’re okay with that.” Penny’s tone turns gentle but stern as she keeps an arm around your waist as she turns to the kitchen. And there he is.

            Jake’s dressed casually in a white button down and light washed jeans. His hair is sunkissed from the days at sea. He’d clearly been dragging his fingers through it in anxious tugs because it looked wild, sticking up in a few different spots. Freshly shaven, his lips were pressed in a tight smile to try to hide his nerves and he clutches a bouquet of white daisies, wrapped in your favorite flower shop’s kraft paper.

            “I’m okay,” you turn to share a look with Penny, letting her slide from your body and ushering Mav through the glass doors into the backyard to give you privacy. You return your gaze to Jake and silence encases the two of you, suffocating the room as your hands come to clutch each other in front of your tummy.

The act is subtle and yet, Jake feels your self-conscious thoughts through the air. It makes him hate himself more. Makes him wish he’d drowned in the freezing icy depths of the water after having to had eject from his aircraft four days prior during an exercise. “There’s too many things I want to say, I don’t know where to start,” his words slice through the tension, an honest admission that sounds so vulnerable compared to your last conversation.

“Try one,” you scoff.

“I’m in lo-,” he starts but your face turns sour, eyes wide at the imagination of what’s at the end of that sentence. His brows crease at the words and he takes in your discomfort.

“Try a smaller one,” you prompt him and he’s nodding dumbly, swallowing. His hands are so sweaty that they stick to the kraft paper in his hands.

“Congratulations on passing,” Jake says, starting small like you recommended. He watches your shoulders relax slightly and takes a deep breath. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, suddenly feeling the burning sensation behind your eyes. After all morning of wanting his comfort, of his arms around you as you awaited the fate of your life – all you had pictured was him. And now, here in front of you, you felt it impossible to look him in the eye. You zeroed in on the flowers in his hand, on the squeezing of the stems in his grasp. Too many things to say. “What else?” you ask, staring down at your painted toes.

“You look beautiful,” Jake shares, taking in the floral pattern of your jumpsuit and the way you’d grown out the pieces of hair around your face, framing your round features to perfection. “I fucked things up, I have so much to apologize for. I was terrible and I don’t deserve you. I almost died during an exercise and the first person I saw when I was going down was you. The watch is perfect, these are for you,” Jake begins to list everything as it rolls off his tongue like a hurried admission of guilt, shifting awkwardly from his spot in the doorway of the kitchen.

Your brain is trying to take in everything he’s throwing at you, a headache coming on as he shuffles closer to you to offer the flowers into your grasp. But the action leaves his hands empty, and he doesn’t know how to move his limbs anymore, so he shoves them in his pockets to avoid the tremor he’d developed when he stupidly walked away from you.

“Slow down,” you quip with frustration, eyes closing. It’s the first visceral reaction he’s seen from you since his birthday, and he’d never been more grateful. “You nearly died? What the fuck Jake?” you drop your flowers lightly onto the entryway table and reach up to grasp his cheeks. You notice the yellowing of a faded bruise on his cheekbone and the picky scabbing of a cut along his hairline. Your fingers gently brush over it with a tenderness that has Jake melting. He’d give anything to keep your hands on him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” his shaking fingertips reach up to cover yours. “I’d really love to apologize first for everything that happened before we talk about me.” The memories of your empty bed find their way back to the center of your mind and your hands slip away back to your sides like his skin was a flame licking you into a scorching burn.

“I thought leaving was the smartest move,” Jake finally admits, his words hanging in the air as the tension builds up. A flare of anger wafts through you as you take another step away from him.

You clench your jaw tightly, trying to maintain your cool. You just graduated…today is supposed to be a good day. “I told you how terrible my ex was about my body, and you thought it was a good idea to leave after you see my figure for the first time? You thought that was smart?”

“I shouldn’t have slept with you that night,” Jake says.

“Wow.”

“No,” his hands go up in defense, irritated that he can’t communicate that he wants to, the way you deserve. “That’s not what I meant,” Jake curses and wipes a hand over his reddened face. “I shouldn’t have slept with you that night because I wanted you to know how much you meant to me before we got further in our relationship.”

“That is so,”

“Let me explain,” his voice is strong, stopping you in your place as he finally finds his footing. He’s standing steady now, hands on his hips as he comes clean and lets all his insecurities out. “Sleeping with you after that party felt like something Hangman would’ve done. Who I was before I knew you, before you let me into your life who thought intimacy was a quick one-night stand with some girl whose name I didn’t remember the next morning.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, listening intently to his confession as your back rests against the cool wall. “You deserved so much more than that guy, and, in that moment, I felt like I hadn’t made progress in showing you who I’d become,” he steps forward slightly, closer in proximity of your space and you don’t stop him. “I felt like I wasn’t showing up as who I’d become with you beside me and even though we were becoming more than some stupid fake relationship, I got insecure that I couldn’t be everything for you the way that you’re everything I’ve ever needed in my life. So, I left,” he nods, tears starting to collect at his waterline.

“I left in a moment of self-conscious, self-loathing. And it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done and I’m so sorry.”

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[dreamwatch]

STWG daily prompt 09/10/23

Prompt: balcony

c/w outing

****

“It’s beautiful, Eddie.”

And it really is. A two storey house over looking the beach. Real wood floors, so many windows, leaving the house bright and airy. The furniture was all new, too. There was a huge beige sectional in the living room and Wayne didn’t think he knew enough people to fill it. It was crazy.

And the view. There had been no money for vacations when Eddie was growing up, so save for the occasional camping trip they made do with looking at brochures from the travel agency in Hawkins. And they would plan. Make lists of all the places they were going to go. Picked their hotels and their holiday homes. Always the biggest suite available. Always with sandy white beaches and clear blue seas, swimming pools and cocktails.

This place was all those vacations rolled into one.

“You like it?”

Wayne just nods back, feels a little choked if he’s honest. He’s so fucking proud of this kid. Every achievement in his life has been hard won, no one handed him anything on a platter. Even for this, he worked his ass off and Wayne knows for a fact Eddie pushed himself, pushed the band, into touring more than was good for them. Eddie had become a workaholic over the last couple of years, something Wayne was going to have to keep an eye on. Though the distance made it hard.

The day Eddie left Hawkins was bittersweet. It broke Wayne’s heart, truth be told, but he did the thing you’re supposed to do when you’re a parent. Stood outside their trailer and sent his boy off into the world and told him the door was always open. That had been five years ago and Eddie hadn’t stepped foot in Hawkins since then.

And look at him now, buying fancy beach front property. Wayne walked out onto the balcony and shook his head. They were a million miles away from that trailer right now.

“You know I’ve a mind to take a photograph of this and stick it on a poster in the middle of Hawkins.” He spread his hands out, framing the imaginary image. “‘Welcome to Eddie Munson’s beach side abode.’ It would be worth the cost just to watch people choke.”

Eddie gives him an impish grin. “Uncle Wayne, this isn’t my house.”

He frowns back. “Please tell me we’re not trespassing, Ed, I’m on vacation son, I just want a nice-“. He stops when Eddie grabs his hands and drops a set of keys into it, a heavy key ring attached. A single silver ‘W’.

“This is your house.”

There’s silence for a while, though anyone with really good hearing would hear the cogs screeching to a halt in his head. 

“I don’t understand.”

Eddie leans back against the balcony guardrail to face Wayne. “I bought it for you. I want you to live out here with me. I fucking miss you, old man, I hate it. Hate not having you close by. So. Yeah.” He ends with a shrug.

“Can you even afford this? I mean, you have a place already, can you afford another?”

Eddie nods. “I can afford it. Bought this outright, it’s yours, bank doesn’t own a single square inch. My place is mortgaged. I figure, you know, I fuck everything up eventually, so I still need a home to come back to when it all comes to an end.” Wayne tuts at him, hates the way he puts himself down. Hang over from school, and his parents. He thinks it’s so deeply ingrained he’ll never break him out if it now.

“I took the liberty of picking my room out, but the masters all yours.”

“Son, I don’t know…”

Eddie’s face falls. “You don’t like it. I should have asked. Fuck, I knew it, I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d want to move, you have a life back-“

“Eddie-“

“-and I didn’t even consider if you’d like to pick out your own home, like, who fucking does that, and I don’t even let you-“

“Eddie!”

“Yeah?”

“Calm down, son.”

“Okay.”

“I love it.”

Large brown eyes meet his, full of hope. Not without some fear. “Do you mean it? Because we can look elsewhere? Like, another neighbourhood, maybe? You know, if you don’t like this one.”

Wayne laughed. “Where’s your place? In relation to this?”

“Fifteen minute drive.”

“Hmm, fifteen minutes beats thirty hours, I think.”

“It’s only five hours if you fly.”

“Fifteen minutes beats five hours, too.”

So that’s how Wayne Munson, previously of Forest Hill’s trailer park, winds up living in a million dollar beach house in California.

—-

It’s weird, the not working, the finding of a new routine when yours has been the same for literally decades. He’s a creature of habit, likes a little order. So he still wakes early every morning. Still likes to sit out and smoke every evening. Only now he gets to do that lying on a lounger on a huge balcony watching the sunset over the Pacific Ocean. It’s a new routine he’s very happy to have.

—-

“That boy of yours working yet?”

They’re sitting, knocking back a couple of beers watching the sunset. Eddie’s been spending more time here lately, and Wayne loves it, but he’s also not an idiot.

Eddie nods before finishing the last if his beer. “Yeah. Got some modelling work coming up.”

Wayne hums.

“Don’t, Wayne. Not tonight.”

So they don’t.

—-

Eddie swings by as much as he can when he’s not touring or working. Wayne worries about him everytime he heads into LA, especially since the riots, but he tries not to mollycoddle. He’s twenty seven now. Not a kid anymore.

But he’s touring a lot. They just got back from the biggest one yet, 331 days, 189 shows. It’s too much. Wayne hates it. But Eddie doesn’t listen. So on they go.

—-

“Forgot to tell you, I got a postcard from Curly.”

“I can’t believe you still call him that,” laughs Eddie.

Dustin will always be Curly to him, and no rockstar is going to tell him otherwise.

“He’s hiking on the Appalachian Trail, did you know that? Think he’s got the Wheeler boy with him, too.”

“I did know that, they tried to get me to go with them.”

Wayne stares at him likes he got two heads. “Have they not met you before?”

Eddie splutters. “I’ll have you know I’m incredibly fit. Touring is hard work. I’m in peak physical condition, thank you.”

They laugh at the thought of Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler hiding from bears and finish another couple of beers, watching the sun go down.

—-

Wayne has started to build a new routine. He likes to walk in the early evening. He tried it after lunch one day and nearly collapsed. (He never told Eddie about that.) So now he heads out around five in the afternoon when the temperature is a little more manageable, and has a leisurely stroll around the neighbourhood or along the beach before heading back to the house.

The first thing he notices when he comes through his front door is the hold-all on the floor, barely zipped up and hastily packed.

“Ed?”

He doesn’t get a response but the sliding door is open and he just makes out the figure curled up on a lounger. 

“Son?”

“Can I stay a couple of nights?” There’s a broken sound to his voice, like he’s been crying. Wayne hates it.

“You know you never have to ask.” 

Wayne brings them both beers, and takes his usual seat. Just waits.

“There’s going to be an article in the press. Don’t know the details, but looks like I’m being outed.”

And there it is.

“By who?”

Eddie looks at him forlornly. “Does it matter?”

“And what does… Luke, does he know?”

“He’s leaving tonight. I just didn’t want to be there until he’s gone.”

“Good. I’ll go round tomorrow make sure he’s out. Get the locks changed.”

They sit for a while, listening to the ocean. 

“Is it so bad? Hmm? You got a lot of fans now, people love you. They wouldn’t care.”

“You don’t know that,” Eddie replies, sounding pained. “And it’s not just me. I have to think of the others. If they take me down they might take the band with it. And…” he looks at Wayne, large brown eyes spilling with tears. “It was mine. They had no right to take that from me.”

“You’re a public figure though,” Wayne sighs, hates he’s having to say this. “It was always a possibility, hmm? Not saying it’s right, just… just saying.”

They finish their beers in silence before Wayne cracks open a bottle of whisky Eddie bought him a couple of years back. Pricey, he knows, but if ever it was needed it’s now.

—

It’s news, for a while, but mostly in some of the shittier publications. There are jokes and taunting in some of the rock magazines, and it starts being a thing interviewers want to talk about. Their management company make sure everyone knows it’s off limits. 

Wayne hates it so much.

—-

He puts up some wind chimes. He spends more time out on that balcony than in the living room, so he decides it’s time to jazz it up a bit. He’s far enough from his neighbours that it shouldn’t bother them, but he also doesn’t give a shit.

Just as he sits the phone rings, and he needs to get a line out here, because somehow it doesn’t matter who it is they always get him the moment he sits down.

He’s a little rude when he answers the phone.

“Uh, Mister Munson?”

“Yes, and who is this?”

“It’s Steve Harrington, sir, I don’t know if you remember me? Um, from Hawkins?”

Yes. Yes he remembers Steve very well. You tend to remember people when they save your kids life. Tend to remember them when they spend a lot of time with your kid afterwards.

“I remember you, Steve. Don’t worry about that. I didn’t know you were in contact with Eddie again, he’s not here I’m afraid, he’s on tour, not sure where is today-“

“Sydney. He’s in Sydney.” Steve clears his throat, and there’s something about the tone.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s okay,” Steve gets in as fast as he can, “he’s- honestly, he’s going to be fine.”

“What’s wrong, Steve?”

“He collapsed, on stage.”

Wayne feels the air leave his lungs, doesn’t realise he’s made a noise until Steve cuts in.

 “He’s okay, but they’re keeping in the hospital overnight, doctors are saying it’s exhaustion, so they’re getting fluids into him and they want him on bed rest for a while. He hit his head on the edge of the drum riser when he went down, so he’s got a few stitches and he’s gonna have a hell of a headache when he wakes up. But he’s going to be okay.” 

Eddie’s home two days later, Steve in tow carrying the bags, and he looks terrible. Gaunt, dark circles that need more than a good nights sleep to erase, and a gauze dressing in the middle of a dark purple bruise on his temple. He looks pitiful. Wayne pulls him into a gentle hug and he feels Eddie go loose in his arms. 

“Let’s get you up to bed, hmm? We can talk later.”

After, Wayne takes Steve out on to the balcony, and closes the door behind him.

“Thank you, for looking after him.”

Steve smiles. “You don’t have to thank me for that, he’s my… he’s my friend. I’ll always look after him.”

Wayne thinks on that for a while. He can read between the lines as well as anyone else. 

“I didn’t know you were back,” together?, “in contact.”

“Yeah, a few months back, Dustin’s wedding? Yeah, it um… yeah it was nice. Unexpected.” He sees the look on Steve’s face. Knows that look. Saw it on both their faces back in Hawkins before Eddie left to conquer the world.

“So, when do you go home?”

Steve taps out a rhythm on the side of his can. “I got a couple of days of leave I’m gonna take, just till I know he’s okay. But I need to get home soon, work you know.” He carries on with his tapping and Wayne thinks he recognises it, one of Gareth’s grooves. Catchy. Not that he’d ever say that to the band.

“I, uh. I’m thinking of moving out here, actually.”

There’s a couple walking along the beach, their dogs racing back and forth and in and out of the ocean. They can hear them laughing from here. 

“This is a nice neighbourhood. You know, if you were looking for a place to settle.”

Wayne can see Steve smile and nod out of the corner of his eye.

“So I’ve heard.”

—-

They’re out on the balcony at one am with a bottle of champagne and three beers. He’s usually very respectful, but tonight his attitude is very much ‘fuck the neighbours’.

“So, where you gonna put it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie sways, he’s been celebrating all evening, long before he arrived here with Steve. The two of them in sharp tailored suits and shiney shoes. Wayne should get a photo before they take them off. Eddie in actual shoes.

Eddie leans over and grabs it, the gold gramophone glimmering under the balcony lighting. 

“Hmm… I was thinking right over there,” he says, pointing to a litte decorative table on the other side of the sliding doors.

Wayne’s stares at him, confused. “You got to take it home, put it somewhere where everyone will see it.”

“I don’t need everyone to see it. I just need us to see it.”

Maybe it’s the champagne and the beer he’s been mixing, but suddenly it all hits him. The heat in his face, the stuffy nose. Ten years. Ten years of hard work.  

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” He dabs at his eyes, and he watches as Eddie wipes his on his shirt, Steve tutting at him about using a handkerchief.

Wayne grabs the Grammy and takes it inside, placing it on the table next to the photograph of Eddie and Steve that he likes to keep close by. 

They spend the night out on the balcony, drinking and talking, wind chimes twinkling, and they wait for the sun to rise.

[writing-rat]

Cute Barista

Pairings: Tara x Amber

Content: Just fluff, barista Tara

Summary: Tara is a barista and Amber finds her cute so she decides to take a chance

3 hours into her shift and Tara had already had to go on the stool 7 times. She was tired of it, and also had noticed how a taller person was watching her whenever she did it. She sighed as she closed her eyes, annoyed as she embarrassed about her height. Her coworker was on their lunch break so it was only her at the counter. The taller person had been there from the first hour of her shift so she wasn’t surprised when she went to the counter again. “I bet you want the biscuits which are up there,” she then spoke. Amber was nodding. “Also a coffee please, thank you. Add that onto my total,” the black haired girl spoke. Tara nodded before she was getting the stool and put it against the wall before she reached the biscuits again. That’s when she handed them over and started to make the coffee, the girl going back to her computer. She was seeming to be working hard on something and Tara wondered what, but she was too much of a stalker in her mind.

She soon went over with the biscuits and the coffee then as she placed it down, and went back to the desk. After 30 minutes, the woman was back up but with her bag and wallet this time. “How much?” she asked with a smiler.

“30 dollars in total please,” Tara spoke. The woman was soon handing it over with some paper. Tara would look later as she was quick to get the change out. “Have a nice rest of your day,” she spoke. The woman nodded with a smile then left. That’s when Chad, Tara’s coworker and best friend came out.

“I think she’s into you,” he spoke casually as he was relaxed sitting down. 

“Fuck off. She isn’t. She was bullying me. Anyway, having my lunch break now so I’ll see you in 30 minutes,” she spoke. Chad nodded. “Of course. You know I’m capable after all,” he grinned out and jokingly reached the top shelf. Tara flipped him off before she went inside the backroom.

-

It was a week after that incident, and Tara was working again when the black haired girl came back in. She sighed as she was on the stool. “Why do you always come in when I’m on a stool?” she asked herself. The girl just smirked.

“My name is Amber, and I just walked in,” she spoke as he was looking at her. “I would just like a black coffee,” she spoke then took a seat. Tara sighed before she was getting what she needed then was making the coffee than wandered over before she handed it over. 

“Here you go,” she spoke. Amber smiled and put a paper in her hand then. It was busy however so Tara didn’t have time to read as she was wandering over to the checkout counter and made the drinks while Chad served. 

Once her break came she was thankful as she stretched before she went into the break room and went to the table immediately, getting her coke out. That’s when she remembered the paper as she dug through her pockets for it. She was thankful she kept it as she started to open it curiously. Once fully open, she read it. ‘Hey cute barista. Text me’ it read with a number next to it. She blinked in shock before she texted the number.

‘Cute barista?’ she texted the number.

‘Yes Tara, cute barista. Thank you for texting me back. Want to go out sometime soon?’ was the response from the number. That’s when Tara knew it was Amber.

‘Maybe. Where at?’ was her next text, seeing what she was working with.

‘Idk. Maybe a Japanese restaurant then a movie?’ came the reply. Tara smirked.

‘Deal’ was her response. 

That’s when they booked a time. It would be at 6pm at their local sushi bar then they would watch a movie after, the Five Nights at Freddy’s movie. That was on Tuesday. Tara was nervous as she didn’t know the girl except she went to her school. They were in some of the same classes and it just hit her after she went to her maths class and saw the familiar girl. She just smirked at Tara and was nodding as a greeting, to which Tara just glared at her before walking to her seat next to Chad and Mindy, her best friends. 

-

It was now Tuesday night, and Tara was outside the sushi bar as she was waiting for Amber, expecting the date to be a total failure. “Hey short barista,” Amber spoke behind the shorter girl, causing her to jump. “My name is Tara, thank you,” she spat out. Amber just smirked and nodded. 

“You ready?” Amber asked then, holding her hand out, a cocky smile on her face. She loved to tease the shorter girl it seemed. Tara rolled her eyes then nodded as she was looking down.

They soon walked into the restaurant, a surprisingly comfortable silence between them. “I didn’t know the Amber Freeman from maths class liked girls,” Tara then spoke. She was outed years ago so people definitely knew about her. Amber just smirked.

“You have never noticed me so why would you know anyway?” she asked. Tara shrugged. Soon Amber pulled out a chair for Tara, who sat down. Amber then went across from her.

They proceeded to look at the menu, making small talk about random things, Tara surprisingly enjoying her time. Maybe she would like Amber after all. “So why do you like me?” Tara then asked, wanting to genuinely know why. She thought she was fucked up after all. 

“You are cute, amazing. You are smart and strong. I mean, everyone knows about your home life yet you remain strong,” Amber then spoke, complimenting her. Tara flushed. “Also you are cute as a barista.”

Maybe she would like Amber after all…

[kissingchoso]

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐔𝐩 | 𝐓𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐘𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Shy!Yamaguchi x Fem!Reader; Modern AU 

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Yamaguchi was never good with others. Even as a grown man, he prefers to keep his distance and watch life pass by without any interference form him. It’s cute, yet it does not work with you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ contant, dubcon themes, dry humping, coercion, mutual pining, legal drinking, yams cums in his pants

𝐀/𝐍: Let’s pretend I didn’t go into a food coma, ate another plate, and played genshin for the rest of the day lmao. Also let’s pretend it’s still Thanksgiving for the sake of the fic and shy Yams <3<3<3 

Thank you to Clover ( @delirieum​ ) for enabling me yet again :) She my shooter fr fr <3<3

Yamaguchi downed the last bit of his drink with a quiet huff, a shiver running up his spine at the strong taste of whiskey that slid down his throat. It's uncommon for him to drink, but it's the holidays and he's with his closest friends! The least he could do is indulge himself with a single drink.

He carefully places the empty glass down on the counter, away from all of the displayed food that had already been dug into by his friends. Like always, he's away from the crowd. Watching the chaos unfold from the sidelines, where he much rather be. He's always been like this, nearly twenty-five years later and he prefers remaining out of his friend's sight.

It works for him most of the time. Emphasis on most.

Before he realizes it, his eyes meet yours amongst the sea of crazy. You look really pretty today, with all the fall tones layered beautifully into your outfit. You want him to join the others, nodding your head to the empty seat right beside you and Yamaguchi bashfully shakes his head. He doesn't think he can handle another round of clapbacks between Tsukishima and Tanaka (who was well past the point of buzzed).

You pout before silently excusing yourself away from Yachi, carefully stepping past your friend's bodies to join your quiet companion by the kitchen island. "You know, you can't be alone for the entire night. Best you join us willingly before Yuu and Kiyoko are asking you to play a round of Just Dance.

His face burns at the thought, partly because of the drink he just thoughtlessly downed. "I'm fine here, really. I can surely hold against my own if any of them come by."

Biting back a snicker, you playfully nudge your hips against his. "Sure you can, hothsot. Or..."

"Or?" The green haired man turned to look at you, already regretting his decision. He knows that look. Eyes filled with mischief and a certain lust that makes his blood boil over.

"Or we can take the rest of the bottle and sneak off somewhere. I don't think this crowd will miss much of us for a couple of minutes," you suggest. Yamaguchi takes this as an opportunity to seriously ponder over your words.

It's no secret this man had a crush on you. It's nothing serious, he thinks. Just a little love that really hasn't gone away since high school. Whenever he miraculously finds himself alone with you, you're always up to no good, using his obvious crush on you to your advantage.

Never the one to push him past his own comfort, but you realize a nudge is all the man ever needs if he plans to get anywhere.

"Come, we won't be gone for too long."

~

You're glad you decided to host this year's Friendsgiving. No one can bat an eye when you two end up in your bed, giggling quietly over wine about Tuskishima's new sweater. It's refreshing seeing your friend loosen up, face properly flushed and fully laxed in his spot. He's seated on the edge of the bed, one hand behind himself to hold himself up while the other is carefully balancing the glass on his knee.

"Y'know, this is a lot nicer." Yamaguchi breaks the silence first after a few moments. All you could do is hum, urging him to continue. "Trust me, I love everyone out there, I do. It's just...nicer with you. Less awkward. A lot less stressful."

You giggle at his confession, sitting up to remove the glass from his hand and place it on the bedside table instead. Tadashi watches your movements, surprisingly calm despite how close you are in front of him.

"I'm glad you feel that way around me, Dash." Without thinking, you toss your leg over his thighs so that you may straddle him.

He sits up quickly, hands finding purchase on your hips when you seat yourself right on his chubbing cock. "Y-You are?"

You nudge your nose against his, nodding your head slowly. "Yeah. Because it just means you still like me, even after all these years. Just in your luck, I still like you too."

Tadashi gasps when you ground your hips against his, unable to stop himself from shifting. On a normal day, Tadashi would find himself easily overwhelmed with your confession and the fact that you were starting to grind your hips against his in a heated fashion. On a normal day, Tadashi would possibly pass out from all of the attention he's receiving from you.

But he's a bit intoxicated now (a true lightweight) and any rationale left inside of him is just telling him to go with the flow, let you lead the both of you to a new state neither of you have been in.

It doesn't matter that you're still fully clothed, Tadashi found that the layers to work more in his favor. You continued to grind right into his lap, silencing your moans with kisses left on his neck. Tadashi sputters, sliding his shaky hands underneath the sweater you decided to wear this evening.

"C-Can we-oh God," he seethes with you press yourself further into his lap. He tries again when you leave a wet kiss right underneath his ear. "Switch? Wanna be on top.”

Who were you to turn down such an amazing offer. Quickly, you nod, allowing the green haired man to flip you over. He’s careful with you, making sure not to carelessly plop you onto the bed. Even if he’s not doing something extraordinary, it doesn’t change the fact that there’s no more room in his pants or the fact that his heart is literally racing like a motherfucker. 

Your sweet perfume fills his nostrils when he climbs over you, nudging his hips right between yours. Almost immediately, he picks up right where you left off, taking his time to learn as much of your body as possible. It’s his first time ever being on top of anyone period and it probably shows. Probably within his desperate thrusts or the shaky moans that leaves his lips when his cock bumps against you perfectly. 

“Oh, I’m gonna cum jus’ like this,” he moans, face completely red. 

From below, you smile up at his fucked out expression. He was doing so well for someone who still struggles with social interaction. Your sweet friend so focused on humping you into oblivion. Even if he occasionally misses your clit or suddenly halts his hips to prolong his own orgasm, you still regard him as an angel, sullied with his desires for you.

You pull him closer to you by wrapping your legs around his hips and by cupping his face to pull him down towards you. You can see his face a lot closer, his browned freckles damn near disappearing within the sea of red. 

“Can I kiss you, Dashi?”

The man exhales at your request but he complies. Slowly reaching down to slot his lips between yours. It’s innocent despite the desperation of his hips rutting into yours. You find yourself seeking him out more in the future for kisses much like this one where he finds the confidence to press into your lips further for more. 

You notice the picked up pace as soon as his tongue slips past your moth entrance. Your brain couldn’t even fathom to begin where he’d learn this move from considering many people would find this action to be a bit too intimate for a first kiss. Despite all this, you’re left with no room to complain when he’s shoving his tongue down your throat to silence both of your sounds. 

A couple more abrupt thrusts before his hips stop right against yours. He pulls off of your lips with a whimper, delivering a couple more halting movements before he stops completely. He exhales deeply, eyes zeroing down to his lower half where a wet spot had just started to form right where his softened cock was.

“Did you just-?”

“Please don’t say anything,” he whines. 

A giggle leaves your lips before you nod, mimicking a zipping motion across your lips using your pointer finger and thumb. Yamaguchi sighs at this before falling against your side. Anxiety pricks at his system for what he’s done- and for what he lacked to do. He looks at you, lips formed into a pout.

“You didn’t....I didn’t make you-” he starts.

“It’s fine, you can make it up to me later, okay? Just gotta stay and help me when everyone leaves,” you press a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling yourself right against his side.

It doesn’t matter that there’s a party filled with drunk guests in your living room or the fact that Tsukishima was getting curious as to where the two of you had gone. All that was running through your mind was the other ways you can crack your friend’s resolve. Maybe have it all work out in your favor just as you have always dreamed of.

© This work was created by: @kissingchoso. Do not share, repost, or recommend on any other platform without consent from the author.

[smallestapplin]

May I request Ingo and Emmet (separately) being helplessly in love with their friend who has known them since they were kids? Maybe they're trying to figure out if they should confess their feelings or not because they're worried that it'll ruin their friendship.

[Also, I absolutely love getting notifications for this blog, I've never had a great sleep schedule so I tend to binge read all of your posts in order to fall asleep. You're a wonderful writer and I hope you've had/have a wonderful day:)]

- Sea Holly Annon

Stop you’re gonna make me cry 😭 💕💕💕 that means the world to me!

-

-

🔲Ingo🔲

- If you’re childhood friends it’s likely you were his first and only love. Having grown up with you as the two of you grew and changed into the people you are today.

- But Ingo is a shy man, even when he realized his feelings for you in high school he never made a move.

- Somehow he thinks you still see him as that awkward dorky tree that stuttered over his words talking to you.

- Spending his days off with you are his favorite. He enjoys the calming down times, it’s a nice break from work.

- He enjoys you coming over to his house but with Emmet being as nosey as he is, Ingo prefers your place. You two often just watch tv together, but it’s the highlights of his week.

- He is terrified of ruining your friendship, he doesn’t want to taint all the happy times you two have shared with his confession.

- But he couldn’t think of a way. Ingo genuinely believed he’d go to his grave never telling you, he was happy to at least have you in his life.

- He didn’t mean to say it out loud. You just looked so perfect in that moment, the setting sun reflecting in your beautiful eyes, you looked like you were glowing, and your smile was warmer than the sun every wished to be.

- “I love you.” He said breathlessly, staring at you with a tender expression.

- It quickly morphs into horror at the realization of what he just said. Your own expression turning into shock.

“I’m sorry! I-I didn’t- I just- oh I’m so sorry!” Tears spring up in his silver eyes as he profusely apologizes.

You’re stood there in shock that your best friend just confessed to you out of nowhere. Ingo starts to back away but you grab his wrist before he can turn to leave.

“Do you really mean it? You really love me?”

The damage is already done so he breaks down confessing everything.

“I do, more than anything, for the longest time I’ve fallen for you, you mean the world to me, I don’t-“ his words break to bite back a sob “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” His voice is weak.

He squeezes his eyes shut, he doesn’t want to see the look of disgust on your face.

Ingo gasps when he feels you hug him.

“I love you too, I thought I just could be happy having you by my side as a friend, but each day it grew more and more difficult, I want to be by your side as a lover.”

You both held each other silently crying and laughing at the stupidity of both of your fears in that park.

(Funny epilogue)

“So you said you liked me for a while, how long exactly?”

“….since about the middle of high school.”

“………INGO WE ARE ALMOST THIRTY-“

🔳Emmet🔳

- Emmet has always been the more wild one, he still played it safe but parties and exciting outings were a must in his early years.

- And with you! His childhood best friend by his side he felt he could do anything! You two were attached to the hip, so often that most assumed you were the unofficial third twin (triplets but he still giggles at that.)

- He was by your side for everything, even the heart breaks, as you were his.

- Emmet knew if he needed anything he could call you. And if you ever called him, even if it was fuck all in the morning on a work night, he’d be there five minutes tops.

- Usually Emmet is very straight forward and blunt, be he didn’t even recognize his own feelings for you. Assuming his beating heart was from something else.

- Though the urge to hold you was never fought. But the urge to kiss you was.

- When he finally realized what he was actually feeling he was laying in bed, dozing off when he thought about hanging out with you tomorrow. He thought about your sweet smile, your melodic laughter, your stupidly funny jokes, that cute pout….

- He sat straight up in bed, accidentally throwing galvantula off of him.

- He loves you.

- The thought sends him into a mild panic. Of all the people he falls for it’s his closest friend? What if the confession ruins your friendship? What if you say yes but the relationship falls apart? He doesn’t want to lose you.

- That’s it! He just has to woo you! Make you swoon! He knows you better than anyone else, surely he can tell if you like him back!

- Emmet sucked up his pride and asked Ingo for help. The older twin was always the more romantic one, so he must know SOMETHING.

- So you were surprised to come over one day and found a candle lit at home dinner. You were confused and thought you entered Ingo’s house by mistake. But no it’s the right house.

- Emmet looked nervous as you two ate dinner. You were a little suspicious and confused at what’s going on before he broke half way through.

“I can’t do this! This feels so stiff and unnatural!” Emmet had been adjusting his more formal clothes since you walked in, so it was no surprise he finally caved.

“I was wondering.” You jump a little when he suddenly stands up.

“I love you! I want to date you and do the sappy couple things! But this isn’t one of them, how does Ingo wear these!?”

You drop your fork and slam your hands over your mouth to silence your gasp. Emmet’s brain seems to have finally caught up with him.

He snaps his head up to look at you, wide eyes locked with his.

“I…uh I didn’t mean to say it like that, I was hoping to say it more romantically, I’d been practicing for weeks now! I’m sorry I ruined it.”

His grin falters, eyes looking away from you.

“You did all this, just to confess to me?”

“I did.”

“Emmet, you could’ve taken me to an arcade, a small diner, hell a superstore parking lot at three in the morning, you didn’t have to force yourself to do this, I’m going to say yes either way.”

You laugh when he jumps up and down “really!? Really truly!!??”

“Yes Em.”

“WOOOHOOO!! YES!! OH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!”

You squeal when he yoinks you out of your seat and hugs you tightly, twirling around cheering.

Yeah this was more suited for Emmet.

[talesofstyles]

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain. 

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder. 

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment. 

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car. 

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.” 

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later. 

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald. 

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.” 

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later. 

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks. 

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off. 

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.” 

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors. 

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve. 

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING. 

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head. 

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her. 

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals. 

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom. 

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife. 

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process. 

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop. 

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache. 

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink. 

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers. 

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest. 

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room. 

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward. 

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket. 

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages. 

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side. 

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket. 

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door. 

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.” 

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going. 

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him. 

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear. 

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat. 

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes. 

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt. 

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige. 

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down. 

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.” 

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching. 

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

[angryschnauzer]

He’s A Keeper

Summary: Working as an artist hired by Durrell Zoo, you spend your days sketching the day to day life of the animals and the keepers. One keeper in particular catches your eye.

Pairing: AU Zookeeper Henry Cavill x Female Reader (no race or size mentioned)

Fandom: Henry Cavill

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering, Safe Sex/Use of Condoms, Realistic Sex/Relationship discussion, Vaginal Sex.

Typo’s are allowed to run wild and free, only the finest organic free range fuck ups for me.

I do not operate a tag list, but if you follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and hit ‘notifications’, you’ll get an alert every time i post something new. Back catalogue/masterlist can be found there and also on AO3

He’s A Keeper

Working the pencils over the sketchpad you quietly captured the beauty of the animals the zookeepers had nursed back to full health, the Ruffed Lemur currently hanging off the keepers arm as he spoke through the headset to the group of excited school children watching through the glass. 

You’d been hired by the zoo to capture day to day life at the zoo throughout the summer season, drawing the animals and the humans, however there was one particular human you had found yourself drawn to numerous times, and that was the rather tasty zookeeper by the name of Henry. He also had one of the sexiest voices you’d ever had the pleasure to listen to, so as he explained about the Lemur’s your mind wandered, as did your gaze;

“... originally from Madagascar, and have been part of Durrell zoo since 1982 where they have been essential to the breeding program…”

Your mind fell even further into the gutter at the word ‘breeding’, your eyes raking down Henry’s body, taking in how the branded t-shirt clung to his chest before tapering down to a narrow waist where it was neatly tucked into cargo pants that did little to hide how thick his thighs were and a pert arse you could bounce a satsuma off of. Biting the end of the pencil you had all but given up drawing, only realising that the talk was over when the group of school children were being herded onto the next exhibit by their tour guide and teachers.

When the kids had disappeared you finally got back to drawing, watching as Henry finished up feeding the Lemur’s before he met your gaze and smiled at you. Tapping your pencil on the glass he frowned and shook his head, before smiling and pointing to the sign in the corner of the window that said ‘do not tap the glass’, getting closer you tried to mouth your words to him, but was surprised when his eyes went wide in almost shock, before looking down and realising you had pressed your chest to the glass, your low cut cami top helping to accentuate your cleavage. When you looked up again he was gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, before he appeared through a door to the side of the viewing area;

“Hi” he had a smile that could charm the panties off a nun; “Did you want me?”

“God yes…” Oh fuck, did you say that out loud?; “Sorry, i mean, you’ve dropped the foam bit off your headset...”

He glanced into the enclosure just at the moment one of the larger Lemur’s picked up the small round piece of foam and staring straight at Henry, proceeded to rip it into tiny pieces.

“Furry little fucker…” he cursed under his breath before turning back to you, but before he could say anything a group of other keepers came walking in and soon you were hanging onto the periphery of their conversation where they were discussing going for drinks after work. Moving to pack your stuff up as you presumed they weren’t including you, but a call of your nickname drew your attention;

“Hey Da Vinci, you up for a few beers after work?”

You hesitated to answer, glancing at Henry who had a smile across his face and a hopeful look in his eye;

“We’re all going…”

“Ok, yeah sure, that’d be great” you agreed. 

-

An hour later you were sitting on the wall outside the main entrance waiting for the rest of the keepers to finish their shifts, smiling as you saw them coming out of the doors, and the ensuing 10 minutes that followed as people sorted out who was driving and how many people could fit into just a couple of small cars. As spaces were allocated Henry laughed and shook his head;

“I am NOT riding five up in a Renault Clio, i’m too tall, i’ll have to fold myself in half! Where are we going anyway, i can take my bike and just walk home after”

Waiting as everyone discussed location and finished off seat allocation, they’d finally decided when Henry turned to you;

“Hey, i think the last seats are in the stoner wagon…”

“Oh…” you didn’t have anything against anyone smoking pot, but didn’t fancy being in a car you could barely see out of the windows of.

“But you can ride with me on my bike?”

Looking to where Henry was pointing, you saw a fairly large trails bike, the kind that could go 50mph over rough land and through forests;

“I… I don’t have a helmet…”

“Wait here, let me run into the locker room and grab the spare i keep here”

Everyone else pulled away as Henry ran into the zoo, and you glanced at the bike. You’d never been on a motorbike before, so this would be a first. Stowing everything loose in your backpack, you hooked it over both shoulders just as Henry reemerged from the building, swinging his keys from one finger as he came to stand in front of you;

“Hey, thanks for waiting”

“No worries! So, where are we going again?”

“The pub in Rozel does good food and pulls a great pint” he nodded to his left and you saw a row of motorbikes; “You ever ridden?”

Shaking your head you laughed; “No, never”

He carefully helped you put the helmet on, his nimble fingers helping to secure the strap beneath your chin before putting his own on and climbing onto the bike, pushing it off the kick stand and nodding for you to climb on. You tried to sit back, but he wrapped his arm behind his back and pulled you flush to his body;

“Gotta hold on tight, otherwise you’ll throw the balance off. Lean when i lean and just squeeze a bit harder if you’re scared, the ride won’t take long” he shouted over the thrum of the noisy engine idling.

The ride down to the small village of Rozel had been exhilarating, from the vibration of the motorbike between your legs to the way you were able to wrap your arms around Henry’s waist and cling to him as he hurtled around the country roads at what seemed like warp speed, when in fact it was little more than 30mph. By the time you arrived in the small fishing cove your heart was racing and you actually let out a reluctant moan at the thought of removing your arms from around Henry’s waist.

“C’mon” he grinned as he helped you off the bike; “I’ll buy you a vodka and coke to calm your nerves”

“It wasn’t nerves” you muttered to yourself, smirking as you know he heard you.

-

The group had managed to find a cluster of small tables chairs and benches in the corner of the pub beer garden, and as the sun had set behind the hills to the rear of the pub, the cold Atlantic sea had glowed in pale blues and pinks. You were squashed into a bench with Henry on one side and another enormous hulk of a keeper on the other, and as the temperature had dropped you’d found yourself thankful that Henry had casually rested his arm behind you so you could leech some of his warmth, but it didn’t stop a violent shiver involuntarily running up your spine.

“Cold?” Henry asked quietly, before gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close; “Any better?”

You nodded and let out a very quiet whine as you smiled at him, completely surrounded by his scent and warmth. It made your stomach do a flip and you clenched your thighs together, something that didn’t get past Henry as your leg twitched against his thigh. Before either of you could say anything an enormous bowl of cheesy fries was set down between you, your stomach growling at the aroma’s that wafted around you as it turned out someone had ordered sharing bowls for the whole table.

With the meal mostly devoured as you’d sat side by side on a small wooden bench in the pub garden, laughing as you fed each other and strings of cheese hung from your fingers. As the giggles of a joke faded away you glanced at Henry’s almost finished pint;

“Hey, you aren’t planning on riding that bike home are you?”

“Nah, i’d never drive after a pint, let alone three… my place is just behind The Navigator restaurant…” he paused; “Oh god, where are you staying, do i need to call you a taxi?”

“No no, i’m renting a studio up the hill, on the hairpin bend”

“Oh…” 

It wasn’t a bad ‘oh’ and there was definitely something loaded in the subtext, so when people had started to leave and arrange ride’s back to St Helier and St Johns it felt natural for Henry to stand with his arm around your shoulders as you both waved everyone off.

“Can i walk you home?” he asked, his voice low and full of promise, and you nodded as he slid his hand into yours, leading you along the low coast road that skirted the harbour.

-

You hadn’t gotten far before the evening turned even better, a brief suggestion of a walk along the beach as the tide was out soon had your feet in soft sand as you were pressed to the weathered stone of the sea wall, Henry’s lips on your neck as your fingers dug into his back, his teeth nipping and biting at whatever exposed flesh he could find. You hadn’t even realised he was going lower until he was on his knees in front of you, those sea blue irises staring up at you as he pressed kisses to your legs where your shorts ended. His fingers softly rested on the button and he finally spoke, his voice low and thick with lust;

“May i?”

Nodding fervently you bit your lip as you watched him slowly unbutton you, pulling the garment down your legs until you were able to step out. Never breaking eye contact he lifted your leg and gently rested it on his shoulder, pressing open mouthed kisses up your inner thigh until his face was pressed against your panties and his wide tongue worked against the soaked cotton and lace. His finger crooked beneath them and tugged the scrap of fabric to the side, seeking out your clit before tracing down to your cunt and tenderly teasing the entrance.

“Henry… please…” you whined, desperate for more

“Don’t you worry, i’m gonna make you see stars…”

Pushing his head forwards his lips caught your clit as he slowly slid two fingers into your soaked channel. You let out a long groan at the feel of his lips and fingers finding the right spot immediately, his other hand cupping the back of your thigh before he ran it around your hip and caught your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours as he quickly drove you closer and closer to the edge with that added touch of intimacy. Suddenly he hummed against your clit and the world exploded, making you cum so hard you truly did see stars as a white heat bloomed in your belly and you rode Henry’s fingers until you were spent.

As you rested against the wall behind you he carefully withdrew his fingers, licking them clean as he tugged your shorts up your legs. You couldn’t help but to notice the obscene bulge in the front of his cargo pants, your hand rubbing over the smooth curve of it;

“You keep doing that and i’ll cum in my boxers… “ he panted out, his lips inches from yours; “What’s your room like?”

“Its a little summer cabin studio right at the end of the garden, away from the other holiday rentals and the main house… what about you…”

“Shared flat with two other guys from the zoo. They’re probably drinking in the lounge right now… so, your place?”

-

Unlocking the door you stepped inside and turned on a small lamp, standing aside so Henry could come into your small summer living space.

“Mmm nice” he nodded and looked around; “Wanna give me the tour?”

You snorted out a laugh at the formality, and held your arm out;

“Well this is the kitchen area, right next door we have the smallest shower room in Jersey, and here’s the bed” you didn’t need to take a single step for the ‘tour’, the room seeming even smaller as Henry took a single stride and wrapped his arm around your back, pulling you flush with his chest. Never breaking eye contact he gently trailed a single finger over your cheek, his thumb brushing your plump bottom lip;

“Are you going to be good for me?”

Your legs almost buckled at the deep baritone of his voice, igniting something within you that you hadn’t even known existed, eagerly nodding;

“Yes Sir”

Lowering his lips to yours he kissed you, his tongue pushing past your lips as he took control, walking the pair of you back until your legs hit the bed and you fell back onto the soft unmade covers. Covering your body with his, he quickly stripped you of your clothing, his mouth trailing behind his hands so every inch of you was gifted with a kiss. 

Standing between your legs he pulled his t-shirt over his head and you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of his body; toned and just the right amount of hair on his chest and a treasure trail on his abdomen that surely led to untold riches. Quickly sitting up your hands joined his on his button to his cargo pants;

“May i?”

Henry released his hands and nodded, watching as you carefully plucked the button before lowering the zipper painfully slowly, his boxers tented obscenely and you couldn’t help but to cup him in your palm, the searing heat of his engorged cock a welcome feel in your hands, the wide mushroom head clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Unceremoniously tugging the rest of his clothing down, you felt yourself getting wetter as his beautiful cock was finally revealed; big, thick and uncut, you had to taste him and quickly ducked your head forwards, swallowing his head between your lips as his hands flew to your hair to steady himself.

Now it was your turn to drive him crazy with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could even though it was barely half of his length, you wrapped both hands around what was left, the thick root of his shaft filling both palms. A few more pumps and he pulled his hips back with a gasp, a trail of spittle hanging from your lips to his bulbous tip;

“If you keep doing that i’m gonna cum far too soon…” he said, his voice shaking; “Lay back and let me treat you right…”

Scooting up the bed you settled against the pillows as you watched Henry shed himself of the rest of his clothing, his boots and socks hooked off, cargo pants and underwear all left in a messy pile at the side of the bed, before he crawled up the mattress like a Panther stalking its prey.

Capturing your lips for another searing kiss, you felt his hot shaft against your belly, burning against your skin and you so desperately wanted to feel him inside you. Pulling away just slightly you were already breathless;

“Just a second…” reaching for the small drawer at side of the bed you pulled out an unopened box of condoms, Henry sitting back on his knees as you ripped the box’s cellophane open with your teeth and pulled out a small foil packet, tearing it open before smoothing the latex over Henry’s shaft. Looking up to his face he wore a rather sheepish smile;

“Sorry, shoulda’ thought of that”

“S’ok, a girl’s gotta keep sharp these days…”

“Right…” he met your gaze; “But you know, if you had gotten pregnant, i would have stood by you”

“Umm thanks? But its for STD’s. I’m on the pill”

“Oh… good thinking…”

A tense pause hung over the pair of you, before you reached up and rested your hand on his chest;

“Shall we continue?”

At your words the tension in the room suddenly dissipated, Henry kissing you as he slid a hand between your bodies so he could position himself at your entrance, groaning as he pushed in slowly breaching your body. Your tight channel hugged him tight, unfamiliar with such a size splitting your walls so he paused, pressing light kisses to your face as your body grew accustomed with his size and the heavy weight of his dick in your pillowy soft embrace. Finally you moaned out his name;

“Henry… please…”

“What do you need?”

“Move… please move. Fuck me, please”

Pushing up on his forearms he started to fluidly move his hips, slow and steady, each thrust was gentle but firm, your body yielding to him as he started to increase the pace, the sound of hot bodies meeting filling the small wooden cabin as the gentle sounds of the sea not far away filled the rest of the night. Soft moans spilled from your lips at the feel of his body playing yours like a delicate instrument, waiting for the chorus and the inevitable crescendo. But he was going to play the entire symphony first, knowing how to get you to sing the high notes as the thrum of your bodies were in tune with each other completely.

With the stretch of his girth and the way the curve of it meant he was able to find your g-spot with every thrust you were fast approaching your orgasm, your body trembling as your lips found a life of their own;

“Henry… please, so good… keep doing that… oh god, i’m gonna cum…”

“That’s it, my good girl, cum on my cock, let me feel you squeezing me so tight… feel so amazing right now… that’s it, you can do it…”

With a cry you came, your legs wrapped around his waist as you pulled him deep whilst your body shook with a fierce orgasm, triggering his own as he pumped a heavy load into the condom.

Finally spent, Henry settled on top of you, his weight a heavy comfort as your sweaty bodies lay skin to skin, the gentle roughness of his chest hair against your naked breasts a tender reminder of his virility. When he started to soften he finally shifted, holding the condom at the base as he pulled out and staggered the few steps to your small bathroom;

“I’ll be back in a second, gotta sort this out…”

The door closed and you shifted on the bed, pulling the duvet back and sliding between the sheets, listening as you heard the tell tale sound of a man urinating and the high pitched, double barrelled squeak of a fart. The flush of the toilet and water running soon after meant you knew the second he would reappear, a flannel in his hand and he stopped dead, his cheeks suddenly bright crimson;

“You heard that didn’t you?”

“It's a small wooden cabin… yes i did”

“Sorry” he approached the bed and with a warm flannel he carefully cleaned between your thighs, pressing a kiss to your lips as he did. When finished he sat on the side of the bed; “Can i stay the night, or did you want me to go?”

“Have you got work tomorrow?”

“Nope. You?”

“Nope. Please, stay”

He quickly threw the flannel into the sink in the bathroom, before with a giggle climbed under the duvet and pulled you into his arms;

“So, how many more condom’s you got?”

-

The morning light broke softly through the trees that surrounded your cabin, your body sore but sated, knowing every bruise and ache came from soft lips, sharp teeth, or skilled fingers, apart from that one ache deep inside that you knew exactly what had caused that delicious soreness, and the owner and cause of all of it still softly slept in your bed. Climbing out you quickly used the bathroom, and as you came back into the room the artist in you couldn’t help but to admire how the dappled morning light cascaded over Henry’s body. Slipping his work t-shirt over your head you pulled your sketchbook from your backpack and settled onto the only chair in the room, quietly working carbon to paper.

Henry woke 45 minutes later, the gentle scratching of your art making him squint at the bright daylight, before laying back on the pillows with his arms spread;

“Still life class?”

Setting your sketchbook down you padded across the room and climbed onto the bed;

“Sorry, i couldn’t help myself… the way the sun was hitting the muscles of your back and shoulders, you were like an anatomy masterpiece”

With a laugh and moving much quicker than you thought he was possible of, he grabbed you by the waist and turned you, his body atop of yours;

“Well that’s enough of that, i would like to become better acquainted with your anatomy… and as we’ve both got the day off i suggest we make the most of it”

Laughing you fell into his embrace, sighing with happiness. Henry really was a keeper, as you were for sure not going to let him go. 

[queenshelby]

A NEW WORLD - PART ONE (UPDATED)

A Quiet Place 2 Fanfic

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader

Summary: This story will follow Emmett and the Reader before and after the invasion. Each Part will be about 1,000 to 2,000 words long and take place on a particular day (as listed on each part).

Warning: Mild Smut, Age Gap, Alcohol Abuse, Spoilers for AQP2

***

DAY: 41 DAYS BEFORE THE INVASION

It was a sunny Saturday evening and you were out watching the local baseball match. Your half brother Lucas was playing and, as usual, your mother was unable to take him to the game.

Ever since your step father had passed away two years ago, she became addicted to alcohol, drinking moonshine in the early hours of the morning.

Your younger sister quickly moved out when she turned 18 but you couldn’t leave your step brother behind. He was only 12 years old and too young to care for himself.

Most of your mother’s income support payments were spent on booze and you were fortunate enough that your stepfather’s life insurance payout covered the remainder of the mortgage on the house.

In order to buy food for yourself and your brother, you had to work hard. You’ve been attending an educational program in town to become a midwife and, at the age of 22, you almost completed your studies. Your goal was to move to Georgia with your brother and make a new life for yourself.

But little did you know that life had other plans in store for you, beginning on that particular day, at the baseball game.

***

‘Hey Y/N’ you heard from behind you and you quickly turned your head only to see your colleague’s husband Emmett sit there with his son Max, watching his other son Henry play alongside your brother Lucas.  

‘Oh god Emmett, what happened?’ you asked as you saw his hand covered in bandages.

‘This? It’s nothing. Just a hunting accident’ Emmett explained and you recalled Nora telling you that he had been away for several days with two of his friends causing a major fight between Nora and him.

You haven’t seen Nora since and what she didn’t tell you that day was that, following the fight, she decided to take a break from their marriage.

Nora was your supervisor at the hospital where you were doing your work experience hours and she was rather difficult to deal with whenever she and her husband had a fight. She loved him and he loved her, but in recent months their marriage was going through some ups and downs and you could see that she was obviously needing some time to revaluate matters.

‘Did Nora take a look at it. The bandage needs to be changed. It doesn’t look right Emmett’ you said concerned as you took his hand into yours, evaluating his injury. You had done about three units of nursing before changing over to midwifery in your course.

‘Nora is out of town, visiting her sister’ he explained and you couldn’t help but give Emmett a sorry look. They were fighting again you thought and it had become a frequent occurrence.

‘Perhaps when she comes back, I should look after Henry and Max again for you guys and you can take her out on a date or something’ you suggested. You frequently babysat for Nora and Emmett to make some extra money.

‘The truth is that we are taking a break for now. But, if things change, I would gladly accept your offer’ Emmett smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. In your opinion he was a nice and incredibly attractive man. He was also a fantastic father to Max and this was something you picked up on immediately when you first met him several years ago through Evelyn and Lee whose children you also frequently babysat.

You also knew that Nora and him had met over twenty years ago. They were high school sweethearts. Everyone saw them both as the perfect couple but their relationship was far from being perfect.

Just over a year ago you heard rumours that, about two years ago, Nora had a short-lived affair but Emmett forgave her. He was a family man and valued his marriage. His sons were everything to him and leaving them would never have been option for Emmett.

He was incredible and you found it difficult to admit to yourself that, over the past two years, you were developing a little a crush on him.

***

About an hour later, the game had finished and you suggested to Emmett that he comes to your house so that you could have a look at his hand.

Your house was a short five-minute walk from the baseball field and Emmett agreed reluctantly after you told him that your mother wasn’t home.

He knew what state your mother was in and he would not have exposed his sons to her constant swearing and antics when she was drunk.

When you arrived at your house, Emmett’s sons and your brother went to play outside in the garden with your brother’s new soccer ball which you had bought him for his birthday while you looked through the medicine cabinet to find some more bandages and some betadine.

‘Have you considered admitting her to rehab?’ Emmett asked as he sat down at the kitchen table, besides which was a large plastic box with several empty bottles of spirits.

‘That’s the plan. I want to take Lucas to Georgia as soon as she is in rehab’ you explained as you carefully removed Emmett’s bandage.

‘This will hurt’ you then went on to say before cleaning his wound and applying some betadine.

‘Fuck’ he complained as you were rinsing out the wound and, after you were finally done cleaning it, you placed a fresh bandage over his hand.

‘You need to keep this clean alright?’ you said with your hands still holding on to his hand while you looked at him with a warm smile.

This was the first time you noticed how blue his eyes were, a shade of deep shimmering blue just as the sea and just as the depth of the ocean, you could get lost in them.

‘Thanks’ he nodded, not bothering to pull his hand away from you as you were staring at him.

‘Nora is one lucky woman’ you sighed as you finally collected your thoughts and let go of his hand.

‘Why? Because she finally is getting rid of me?’ Emmett laughed but knowing exactly what you meant.

‘No that’s not what I meant Emmett. In fact, I think she is crazy thinking about leaving a man like you’ you said shyly and with flushed cheeks as you looked down at his hand once again.

‘Right’ Emmett chuckled and, just as he did, you moved one of your hands over his cheeks.

‘Don’t doubt yourself Emmett’ you said before, slowly and tentatively pressing your lips onto his.

He didn’t retract, nor did he pull away as, for a short moment, he allowed the kiss. Your lips were soft and sweet and he couldn’t recall the last time another woman had kissed him.

Eventually, you broke the kiss at your own accord and Emmett looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. He was surprised by your actions and his eyes were full of questions.

‘I am so sorry’ you then shuddered while Emmett was still speechless.

‘I should go now’ he quickly said, unable to even look at you after what had just happened.

‘Emmett?’ you said as he got up from the chair next to yours. ‘I am sorry, really…I shouldn’t have’ you said somewhat flustered.

‘Y/N, it’s fine. Let’s just forget about it, aright?’ he smiled as he ran his hand over your shoulder in the way a friend would.

You nodded just before he left but the truth was that you couldn’t forget about it. This kiss stayed with you for the rest of the day.

***

Just as the evening had arrived and you were sitting in your bed, reading yet another novel you had borrowed from the library, you imagined yourself with Emmett.

This wasn’t right, you thought. You should not be thinking about him the way you did. He was a man twice your age. But you couldn’t help it and your imagination was running wild.

His lips were on yours, his fingers roaming over your body and you simply couldn’t go to sleep that night until you satisfied your needs with the small vibrator you kept in your beside table.

‘God damn Y/N’ your inner voice tried to reason. But you wouldn’t listen to it until you found your release that night which is when, finally, you drifted off to sleep.

 Tag List (Cillian):

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[keewriting]

Cove x MC - One Shot #2

[Read on google docs to insert your MC's name]

You haphazardly shoved papers, notebooks, and pencils into your worn-down backpack. The plan was to visit Cove at his house to study for an upcoming science exam, and somehow you were running late. You knew Cove wouldn’t mind, but there was no point in making him wait any longer. You bounced down the stairs and out the front door.

The air outside was chillier than normal, even for early December. You shivered, but decided against running back up the stairs for a sweater. Cove was opening his front door before you were halfway across the street. A small pang of guilt replaced your initial excitement. You wondered how long he was watching and waiting for your arrival.

Cove’s sweet smile and gentle voice quickly erased those feelings. Instead you filled with warmth from within.

Cove: Hey, Y/N.

Y/N: Hi, sorry I’m late.

You reached up for a kiss. His warm lips pressed against yours invitingly. You gripped his shirt and nuzzled your cold nose into his face.

Y/N: Alright, let me in already before I turn to ice.

Cove welcomed you inside with a chuckle. You shuffled inside while rubbing your arms.

Cove: Are you too cold? You should go back to get a sweater.

You shook your head with a pout. Noticing Cove’s bare arms, you didn’t want to seem weak and unable to handle a little temperature drop. Then you sighed at his toned muscles, grateful that he stubbornly refused to wear layers.

Cove narrowed his eyes with suspicion, then blushed at the realization that you were checking out his arms. Despite being in a relationship with you, he still struggled under your affectionate gaze. His next words were quiet.

Cove: We can study in my room. It should be less chilly there.

You followed Cove into his room and made yourself comfortable on his bed. Nuzzled under his blanket, you turned to face the wall with your eyes shut.

Y/N: Good night, Cove. Thanks for having me over.

Cove laughed and lied down next to you on top of the blanket. He leaned towards you and spoke in a whisper.

Cove: You have five minutes, but then we really have to study. This is our last big science exam before we graduate high school.

His hand gently stroked the hair on the back of your head. You sighed contentedly, then groaned reluctantly.

Y/N: If I don’t get up now I’ll fall asleep like that.

You sat up and pulled yourself from underneath the blanket to sit cross-legged with your back against the wall. Cove moved himself to the opposite side of the bed and bent his legs toward his chest. He gave you a sympathetic smile before speaking.

Cove: All set, sleeping beauty?

Y/N: Yeah… actually, could you pass me my backpack?

You smiled sweetly, knowing you were fully capable of getting it yourself. Cove got up without hesitation to retrieve your backpack. He also carried his own materials back to the bed before sitting down in his original position. You accepted your belongings graciously.

Y/N: Thank you, Cove my sweet, darling sea angel.

Cove blushed and rolled his eyes at your overly-dramatic pet name. Satisfied with his reaction, you opened your backpack and evaluated the situation inside. There was a lot in there that you didn’t need for this study session. You shoved everything aside until you found your science notebook. Cove watched you with a hint of judgement and amusement in his eyes. You stuck your tongue out at him.

Y/N: Stop judging me, Holden. I’m totally prepared.

After agreeing on which section to start with, the study session began. There were waves of focus between you two, interrupted by occasional jokes and unrelated conversations. Your own mind was constantly distracted by how cold you felt. Every few minutes, you noticed Cove’s gaze fixated on your body. You wondered if he noticed the goosebumps on your arms.

Cove stood up without warning, stretching his arms above his head. You watched as he walked to his closet and rummaged through the clothing. He paused in front of the bed with a bright blue and white tie-dye hoodie in his arms. Before he could do anything you spoke theatrically and threw your hand to your mouth in an exaggerated manner.

Y/N: Layers! On Cove Holden? Why, I can’t believe it.

He shook his head while trying to hold back a smile. He held out the hoodie to you.

Cove: No, doofus. This is for you. You’re obviously cold.

Y/N: Oh. I’m… finally getting a boyfriend hoodie?

Cove: Finally? Is this something you’ve wanted? You could have said something sooner…

Cove’s gaze danced away from you, but his arms were still outstretched in your direction. You accepted the hoodie. It was soft and you could tell it would swallow your figure.

Y/N: I couldn’t ask for a boyfriend hoodie. That’s not how it works.

You spoke teasingly, but you felt as bashful as Cove did. You didn’t know why, but it was special to receive a hoodie from Cove. This felt different to the time he let you keep his t-shirt after you both got caught in the rain.

Cove: You can keep it, of course.

You nodded and pulled the hoodie over your head. You were immediately consumed by the comforting scent of Cove. The hoodie was massive, as you expected. You glanced up at Cove, who was still standing in front of you. His hand clamped over his mouth. You lifted your arms toward him, the sleeves completely covered your hands. You spoke in a whiney voice.

Y/N: Cove, I’m drowning — save meeee.

Cove: Oh, my God. You are so cute.

Suddenly, he was moving towards you. His hand gripped the side of your head as his lips crashed into yours. You welcomed the unexpected kiss with a squeal. You lifted your hand to expose it from within the sleeve and moved it to Cove’s chest. His knee was on the bed as he closed the gap between you two.

Your lips were still connected. Feeling bold, you shifted your weight to push Cove onto the bed. His back was flat against the mattress. You hooked your legs on either side of his torso and trailed your hand up to his jaw. He seemed almost resistant to the new position, but his pleased, throaty moan said otherwise. You broke apart for a moment to ask him if he was okay. He barely let out a mumble.

Cove: Agh, I’m good.

He gently but insistently pulled your head closer for another kiss. His hands wandered down your back and settled right above your rear. You cursed within yourself but accepted that Cove wouldn’t get any braver than that for now. Conversely, your body juiced with audacity.

You tightened your legs and grinded lightly against Cove. With one hand entangled in his hair, you used your free hand to trace the toned muscles on his torso. You were quite pleased with this position and could tell Cove was enjoying it, too. Your lips broke apart for a moment.

Cove: Babe… ah—

He cut himself off, unable to cope with the embarrassing pet name that had never escaped his lips before. You could see the wheels turning in his head as his face reddened. His eyes darted to the side as he bit down on his lip. You knew it would be hard to pull him back from this moment. Deciding to give him a break, you smiled sweetly and kissed the tip of his nose. You shifted off of him and snuggled up to his side.

Y/N: Thank you, Cove.

He exhaled deeply and covered his eyes with his hands.

Cove: Thank you for what?

Y/N: For warming me up.

He didn’t move his hands, but a small smile crept upon his face. You closed your eyes and rested your head against Cove. Finally, his hands lowered from his face. He draped one arm around your shoulder, the other rested upon his chest. The study session could continue later, you wanted to enjoy this moment.

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 2

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: none right now, eventual smut,

Word Count: 5.2k

Masterlist

A/N: o my god i did not expect so many people to have read the first part… even if only one person reads im still happy :D anyways heres the second part (i swear bang chan wont just be a side character later on hhahaha)

The insistent beeping of the alarm on your phone was what first woke you up from your dazed sleep. Your head still pounded from the night before, and frankly, you were ready to get fired for an extra five minutes of sleep. Tapping the ‘cancel’ button on your phone, you flipped over head down on your pillow to find the beautiful dreamland you were in. However, after just five more minutes, the triggering beeping of your backup alarm took you out of your slumber again, this time really waking you up. 

You trudge towards your bathroom, still dreading the day, on your way to take a shower. Thankfully, the steam from the warm shower combined with the fragrant smell of your conditioner slightly woke you up and dampened the aching in your head. 

Being drastically more awake than before, you made your way over to your kitchen to prepare breakfast. You opened the fridge, mind blank, just staring at the empty shelves. I seriously need to do some grocery shopping, you thought before grabbing an egg. 

You struggled to turn on the stove, not knowing which knob correlated to which burner. Turning a random one, you flinched when an excessive amount of fire appeared. However, after an embarrassingly long amount of time, you finally figured out the stove. Why are there still gas range stoves when electrical stoves exist? You wondered. 

You looked at the sad cooked egg in front of you. 

Was this really how you were going to live from now on? You cursed your whole family for spoiling you so much back home. Sure you were grateful for being able to live with your family for twenty three years, but the consequences of your mother making a fuss when you tried to cook for yourself was really showing now. 

You were about to dig into your lonely meal when your phone buzzed all of a sudden. Taking a quick peek at it, you saw Na-eun’s name flash up. You beamed with joy. Although you already worked up the nerve to be the first one to contact her, you were thankful she did first to break the tension. However, there was a small — microscopic even — part of you that wondered: what if that were Bang Chan?

You unlocked your phone. 

Na-eun: Hey! I know it’s kinda last minute, but do you wanna meet for breakfast?

Na-eun: There’s a café five minutes away from the building. 

Na-eun: ^-^

Smiling to yourself, you quickly typed a reply.

Y/n: Sure! My breakfast looks too sad to eat… 

Y/n: ^-^

In a flash, you stuffed your egg into a plastic tupperware container and put it in the empty fridge before booking it out your door, making sure to carefully enter the passcode to lock it before running to the staircase. You almost tripped over the stairs going down as you tried to sprint and text Na-eun at the same time. Checking the maps app on your phone, you told her how long it would take for you to arrive at the café. 

Na-eun: Do you mind if I bring my roommate? She keeps complaining about how boring it is at home haha.... 

Na-eun: She’s really nice though! ^^;

You happily agreed since you weren’t in the position to turn down another potential friend. Already two potential friends? You were so excited. 

There was a bounce in your steps as you made your way down to the subway. Scanning your card, you made your way to the big group of people on the platform and waited for your train. Taking the subway was so new, yet refreshing. There was something exciting about seeing a brand new set of people board the cart every stop, it was almost like refreshing your Instagram feed over and over again. 

After just a couple minutes more of waiting, your subway came. You naturally found your way in by shuffling along with the flock of people and found a good place to stand. 

You surveyed your cart. Some high school students, a few elderly, and many many businesspeople dressed in attire very similar to you. They all seemed to be busy on their cellular devices, so you quickly pulled yours out as well, eager to blend in. Your little Tamagotchi friend was happy to see you. 

The sound of the automated woman’s voice was what drew you out of your concentration, as she announced that the subway would be stopping at your destination next. When the subway stopped, the sea of people rushed out in a big tidal wave and you just went along with the flow. 

The map posted on a big pillar in the station was difficult to read at first, but after embarrassingly asking a station officer, you were confident you knew where you were going. The station was big with many interwoven hallways, each connecting to a different location. It had a couple shops and convenience stores located along the sides where students running late could buy some bread or tired businesspeople could inject their early morning dose of caffeine. 

You weaved your way through the long halls, confident that you could remember how you got out the right exit yesterday. Finally, after passing by many familiar stores and signs, you eventually made it above ground at the right exit. It was a cloudy September morning, the wind flew past you at just the right speed to elicit a slight shiver. You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket in your rush to the café. The streets were busy with cars zooming by, but it was nowhere near as congested as the subway traffic.

You started following your phone’s GPS to the marked location, and after a couple minutes, you spot the café. You immediately recognized it as a chain café as you’ve seen a few more of these scattered around the city as you got around. This one, however, appeared to be larger than the others (presumably because it was near so many big name companies) as it had three floors in total. 

You texted Na-eun, telling her you’ve arrived. She let you know that they were both in one of the booths on the second floor, so you decided to order before heading up. Walking over to the cashier, you scanned their massive menu, trying to find what you were looking for.

“One mango juice, please.” You politely ordered. “And also a slice of the red velvet cake.”  

After you had paid, you waited patiently, hands folded in front of you for your food. Because it wasn’t busy in the morning, it wasn’t that long until one of the baristas handed your food to you on a tiny plastic tray and you started making your way up. You reached the top floor and scanned your eyes around the room to find a familiar face. 

“Y/n!” Na-eun waved.

You waved back and made your way over. She was in the booth, and there was another girl sitting beside her. 

“Y/n, this is my roommate Yoojin.” She smiled at you and made a gesture towards the smaller girl sitting beside her. She was a fluffy haired girl. Her appearance was puppy-like, with her wide eyes and a large smile that was almost too big for her face. 

“Hi Yoojin.” You said as you sat down. 

“Hi Y/n! Na-eun told me about you yesterday. It seems like you have similar jobs.” She looked back at you with wide eyes. “But I think you got luckier because you actually get to interact with the idols.” 

“I think both of us are lucky to even be working there,” you chuckled, “plus, I don’t actually get to be working directly with the artists. I could only wish.” You joked. 

“Still extremely lucky, Na-eun told me she saw Bang Chan and Felix from Stray Kids at your building’s cafeteria yesterday.” Her hair bounced. “Finally, now I can say I’ve indirectly met famous people.” 

You and Na-eun both laughed. Although Yoojin looked the same age as you, there was something about the way she acted that just seemed so precious and innocent — like a little sister. How old was she anyway?

“Yoojin’s younger than me by a few years,” Na-eun said as if she read your thoughts, “She graduated university a year early. Top of her programming class. She knows everything about technology; one time, I stupidly forgot the passcode to my P.O. box and she cracked it for me in less than fifteen minutes.”

“Stop it.” Yoojin whined, looking down and playfully hitting Na-eun on the shoulder. “I told you before that I don’t like it when you talk about me. Let’s talk about Y/n instead. Na-eun told me you’re not from here, what do you do at JYPE then?” 

“I’m an assistant to help market some of the artists in China.” You leaned in a bit. “Actually, to be honest, I’m working on a secret project and Bang Chan from Stray Kids is technically part of the team.” 

Both Yoojin and Na-eun’s eyes widened. “No way, you’re so lucky.” Yoojin said. “Why can’t you have a job like that?” She poked at Na-eun.

“Get your own job first,” Na-eun smirked, “then we can talk about mine.”  

“Hey! I do have a job.” Yoojin clenched her jaw, looking at her plate and avoiding eye contact.

“I’m not sure if talking to people online all day counts as a job.” 

“Whatever.” Yoojin swirled her fork on her plate, stabbing at a piece of her cake. The scraping of metal on ceramic made all of you wince. 

“Anyways,” you started, trying to change the atmosphere, “did anybody watch the first episode of that new drama?” 

The two girls seemed to have a mood switch, looking relieved to start a new conversation. They gladly added their input and opinions on the new drama, talking about both the plot and the actors. Time passed by twice as fast as the three of you sat at the booth talking about the most random things. However, it was soon time to go to work for both you and Na-eun. 

“Hey, before you leave, could I get your number?” Yoojin asked. “We should hang out again sometime.”  

You gladly typed your contact into her phone, excited to hang out with Yoojin again. She was so full of energy, it reminded you of your university days. Not to mention that fluffy curly hair. It was so cute. 

You and Na-eun both made it out of the café and walked side-by-side over to your building before parting ways at the elevator corridor. It was a miracle that you managed to arrive at your cubicle in time, without getting lost. There was a pile of papers on your desk; they were the files you worked on yesterday. You remember that yesterday Manager Chen marked some improvements that could be made to the papers, but you checked your email just to be sure. 

Hello Y/n,

I put the documents from yesterday on your desk for some final edits. I’ve also added a few more. Could you finish them all by the end of the day?

Best, 

Manager Chen

You flipped through the stack of documents, and sure enough, there were about five more letters that needed to be worked on. Feeling determined, you gritted your teeth, got out your pen, and started to do your job. 

There were more corrections to make than what you expected, plus, you wanted to make sure your work was perfect this time. You skipped a trip to the cafeteria for lunch and ate something from the vending machine at your desk instead. You tried your best to work diligently, but because of your inexperience, it was taking longer than expected. You lost track of time as the hours passed by. 

“Your team is working hard today, Manager Chen.” A voice came from across the room. You looked up from your stack of documents to see Manager Kim walking over towards Manager Chen, who was standing casually outside her office doors. 

“What can I say, I keep them busy.” She replied. “Are you heading home now?” 

“Yes, and so should you.” Manaker Kim stopped at your cubicle, putting a hand on the wall. It was cat-like the way he looked at you. “Y/n, you’re working hard. Are you going home now? I’ll give you a ride.” 

You couldn’t head home now, not with the amount of work you still had with the new letters Manager Chen added to the pile. “Thank you for the offer, Manager Kim, but I’ll stay later today. I need to finish this work by today.” 

“Let her be, Manager Kim, you know how new employees are.” Manager Chen nagged and crossed her arms. “Come, I’ll walk you to the parking lot.” 

You bowed at both your managers and stretched your back before getting back to your work. The black lines of both languages started to blur into one as you strained your eyes to hold a tighter focus on the documents. It wasn’t until two more gruesome hours later when you finished your work. You did a long deserved stretch of the arms and checked the clock for the time, praying that it wasn’t too late. Thankfully, with the time being only eight, it wasn’t that dark out. You took a quick peek at your phone to check your notifications before leaving the office. 

There were only two texts sent fifteen minutes ago. Both from Bang Chan. 

Your chest tightened when you unlocked your phone. 

Bang Chan: Hey, I know it’s a bit late, but I have some ideas for the project and I was thinking we could meet up to discuss them

Bang Chan: Only if you want that is…

Your brain was in jumbles as you thought of what to text back. There were a couple staff that wrote you emails about their ideas for the project, but none of them asked to meet in person. And now, the first person who asked you to have a meeting in person was Bang Chan. Whom you rode back to your apartment drunk with. On your first day at work. And now you missed his work-related text by fifteen minutes. However, even though it was late, you still felt like you needed to take his ideas in. After all, like Manager Chen said, you know how new employees are. 

Y/n: Hi, sorry my reply is late… Are you still free? 

You anxiously stared at the blue-lit screen of your phone, jumping in and out of the text app waiting for a reply. After less than a minute, you saw the little dots at the bottom which indicated that he was typing. It disappeared for a moment, only to come back less than a second later. Your thumbs started unconsciously fiddling with one another in front of your phone screen as you waited for what felt like eternity. 

Bang Chan: It’s alright haha 

Bang Chan: There’s a cafe about 5 minutes from our building, wanna meet there? 

You immediately knew which café he was talking about as you conveniently hung out with Na-eun there this morning. You texted Bang Chan back, letting him know that you would be there as soon as possible. You grabbed your bag, along with your trusty pen and notebook,  before leaving your desk for the elevators. The elevator ride was unusually fast as it was already well past working hours for most people.  

Once you were out of the building, you made your way down the familiar sidewalk, passing by the familiar street shops as you felt the bite of the wind against your face. The sky was becoming dim as the sun made its descent, but the illumination coming from the streetlamps helped guide you there. After five minutes of a brisk walk, you saw the familiar sign of the café. You also saw a familiar person standing outside the door, dressed in all black, with his head down looking at his phone. 

You tried to make your footsteps slightly louder the closer you got to him in order to make your presence known. It seemed to have worked, as Bang Chan heard you and turned his head up. He immediately gave you a boyish grin, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie and pulling his face mask down to his chin. 

“Hey,” You waved awkwardly, “did I make you wait long?”

“Not at all.” Bang Chan said as he held open the door, “Let’s go in, it’s pretty chilly today.” 

You thanked him and walked inside. You both made your way to the cashier and looked up at the menu, deciding on what to buy. 

“I think I’ll get an iced americano.” Bang Chan said. “Are you getting anything?”

“Hmm. I might get the mango juice.” You decided and lined up behind Bang Chan, waiting for him to order first. 

Bang Chan walked up to the waiting barista. “Hello, I’ll get an iced americano please.” A second passed. “Also a mango juice.” 

Your eyes widened as you silently tried to stop him from buying your drink, feeling embarrassed that Bang Chan — who was essentially your coworker — was buying your drink. He didn’t seem to notice your quiet protests, as he pulled his card out of his wallet and quickly tapped it on the pin pad. After he was done paying, he turned around and tucked his card back in his wallet, giving you a smug grin. 

“I’ll pay you back later.” You insisted, embarrassed once again that he was doing something for you. 

“Of course, of course.” He casually replied and stood beside you with his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “I’ll wait for our drinks. You can go find a table.” 

You nodded and left to find a table on the first floor. Surprisingly, there were more people there at night than when you were there in the morning. Some people had their textbooks out to study, some were quietly enjoying a book. Some were on dates. 

Finally, after weaving through many fully filled tables, you found an empty one near the table. You sat down, taking out your pen and notebook to prepare for Bang Chan’s ideas. Not long after, you saw Bang Chan walking around, turning his head left and right to look for you. You caught his eye as you waved at him to come over. He strolled over and put the tray of drinks down on the table, placing yours beside your notebook. 

“So,” You took a sip of your delicious mango juice, “do you wanna get started now?” 

“Sure.” His usually friendly face turned serious. It seemed like he took his work seriously. “So I was thinking, we need to film some content to start promoting our debut right? How about we film content for the Mid-Autumn Festival? It falls on the same day as Chuseok, so we can use this as a small promotion for our debut.” 

You nodded in agreement. Although this idea would be a little last minute to carry out, it was a great opportunity to promote their group in order to gain more popularity before their debut in China. “This is a great idea Bang Chan,” You hurriedly jotted down everything he said, “did you have more to add on?”  

“We could make several episodes of this content. I was thinking we could camp in the mountains and maybe cook some food, make mooncakes.” 

“All of this is really good, we have three weeks until the actual Mid-Autumn Festival. If I rush this idea to Manager Chen, we could have one week to plan it, and two weeks to film and produce it.” You beamed, glad that you could be involved in a potential big production. 

You and Bang Chan kept discussing his idea for content, and as time passed, your conversation turned more casual as it eventually evolved into topics unrelated to work.

“So, why are you having coffee this late anyway?” You tipped your chin towards his glass. 

“There’s this part of a song I’m working on that I just can’t get perfect,” Bang Chan noticeably clenched his jaw, “I wanna figure it out before I leave.” 

“Do you usually stay up late to work?” You asked. 

“I can’t sleep anyways, so I might as well work.” 

“Insomnia?” You questioned. He shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his coffee. A few seconds of silence passed. “You know, my mom made me pack some of her special tea before leaving. She said it was for jet lag, which is weird because there’s only a time difference of an hour here.” You rambled. 

“Oh?” Bang Chan tipped his head. 

“I could give you some tomorrow.” You said. Your eyes wandered everywhere except to him. “If you want.” 

“Really, you’d do that?” His eyes widened as he stirred his coffee with his straw. 

It may have been your subconscious need to make friends, or just the fact that you mom gave you so much tea for your non-existent jet lag, but you gladly offered your mom’s solve-all remedy. “Of course, anything for a friend.” 

He blinked a couple times. He stopped stirring his coffee. “Thanks.” He looked at you with a slight grin. 

“Plus, this way I can pay you back.” You teased. 

“Okay, fair enough.” He chuckled. A dimple appeared on his cheek as his smile widened. “But seriously, you don’t need to worry about paying me back for anything next time.” 

Next time? You wondered. Of course he would have more ideas for his own group. You wanted to roll your eyes at yourself. It seemed like, despite his easy-going personality, that he cared a lot about not only his job, but the boys he worked with. His work ethic inspired you and made you want to work just as hard as he did. Except you definitely couldn’t stay up as late as he did. 

The two of you kept up the back and forth that was established, talking about whatever came to mind, with a few sprinklings of work-related conversations throughout. You talked about your first day impressions and how well you were adjusting to life in a new country, and he retaliated by sharing his own experiences of moving across the world. You were so enraptured by your riveting conversations that you easily lost track of time. It wasn’t until you had already spent minutes playing around with your straw in the empty glass that you finally remembered how late it was.

“It’s kinda late, I think I should get going now.” You said as you checked your phone for the time. 

“Are you taking the subway?” He asked as he started gathering the empty glasses. “It’s pretty dark now — I could walk you there.”

“It’s alright. I don’t wanna take time from your work” You said, gathering your notebook and pen. 

“It’s no problem, really, it’s just a five minute walk.” He stood up with the tray of empty glasses in one hand and pulled up his face mask with the other.

The two of you left the café and walked the short distance to the subway stairs.  There, you parted ways and you started your trek home. Taking the subway at night was vastly different from morning; the morning rush was filled with rows and rows of busy people, whereas the night train had a completely different feeling to it. There were actually available seats, to begin with. You found an empty seat and took out your phone to kill time. You checked your missed notifications.

Yoojin: Hi Y/n!! ^-~ Today was so fun, we should go again sometime! 

You smiled at the little text from Yoojin, visioning her wide smile stretch across her face. Texting a quick reply back, you were about to put your phone back down when another notification popped up. 

Unknown: Stay away from him. This is a warning.  

A flash of panic rushed through your body making your chest tighten. Your heart was coming out of your chest, the beating was so hard you could hear it even in the running subway. Completely fixated on the bright white of your phone, your eyes strained from the light. Adrenaline filled your blood, and in the spur of the moment, you quickly blocked the number and deleted the text chain. It had to just be a prank text, after all, you have gotten pranked through text multiple times before in your past. 

You put your phone down slowly, turning your head to survey your subway cart for any suspicious acting people. There was only a grandma with her cane and a few middle school girls comparing their new lip tints. Your thumbs naturally started fiddling with each other. Your eyebrows knit together as you clutched your bag tight to your body for the rest of the subway ride. 

The walk back to your apartment was done carefully. You chose the side of the sidewalk with more light as you kept your senses open, trying to remember the face of every person that walked past you. Although it was more likely than not that the text was just a prank, you were still somebody living alone with very few connections in a new country. Your legs quickened at the thought and you hurried your way back.

Arriving at your apartment door, you carefully entered your lock combination and slammed your door shut, double checking that it was locked. Your home was dark, with only the moon casting long shadows on your furniture. You quickly switched your light on. You tried to put this text to the back of your mind as you got ready to sleep, but it loomed, feeling like a shadow cast by the moon. The shadow in your mind stayed as you closed your eyes, waiting for your sleep to chase it away. 

The next morning, you woke up to the obnoxious beeping of your alarm. You sleepily sat up, getting ready to perform your familiar morning routine. Everything felt like routine, so monotonous that the text from last night was completely forgotten. You opened the fridge and ate your suspicious egg from yesterday morning. 

Before leaving, you suddenly remembered to bring your mom’s magical tea. You rummaged through the cupboards until you found the ridiculous packaging your mom insisted on using. 

The route to work was already starting to feel familiar as you mindlessly made your way from your quaint apartment all the way to the opulent blue building. You entered the office and sat at your desk, checking for new emails. After nothing of immediate importance came up, you got out your notebook and started to type up your notes from yesterday. 

You were in a trance. The repetitive task of reading and typing completely hypnotised you as hours passed by without you even noticing. What broke you out of your trance, however, was the voice of your boss. 

“Bang Chan.” Manager Chen called out. You looked up from your monitor and peeked up from your cubicle to see the familiar hair of a certain man you knew. Assuming he was here for a meeting with Manager Chen, you went back to your hypnotising work. The walls of your cubicle were too high for him to see you anyways — something about eliminating distractions to maximise work efficiency. 

You hit ‘enter’ on your keyboard to start a new paragraph when all of a sudden, you spotted an object appear on your desk from the corner of your eye. 

A bottle of mango juice. 

Quickly turning your head around, you were met with Bang Chan’s back. He was already making strides towards Manager Chen, but something about the sway of his broad shoulders and the way his right hand stretched open told you that it was him who gave you this little bottle of happiness. You unscrewed the lid and took a sip before getting back to work.  

Thankfully, the gift you received was enough sugar content to keep you working efficiently for the rest of the day. You had finished all your work and could hopefully pitch Manager Chen the idea by tomorrow. You found your mom’s tea in your bag while gathering your stuff, remembering your promise to Bang Chan. 

Y/n: Hey, I have my mom’s tea — I could give it to you right now?

There was a reply almost immediately. 

Bang Chan: Sure ^^ I’m in a practice room on floor X right now, I’ll wait by the elevators. 

You made your way over to the elevators and tapped your nails on the package of tea whilst silently waiting for an elevator to arrive. The silence, however, was promptly cut off as your phone started to ring. It was from Yoojin. She probably wants to hang out soon, you thought as you happily answered right away. 

“Y/n!” Yoojin yelled into the phone, she sounded worried. 

“Yoojin, is there something wrong?” You frowned, concerned for the girl. 

“I-I was in the parking lot near your building, a-and I fell down the stairs.” She sniffed. “I think I sprained my ankle or something — I can’t stand up. It hurts so much.” 

“Oh god, Yoojin, do you want me to come help?” You were in the elevator by now, already pressing the button for the main floor. 

“If you’re not far, I don’t want to trouble you.” You heard sounds of her wincing. 

“It’s no trouble Yoojin,” You exclaimed, “your ankle is much more important now. I’ll be right there.” 

“Thank you Y/n.” You heard her sniff again through the phone. 

You bolted out of the elevator as soon as it reached the main floor, stuffing your forgotten package in your bag. Ignoring the looks of confusion of the people you sprinted past, you located the parking lot building as soon as you left the main doors of the JYPE building. Your chest burned and your breaths were heavy. 

You were worried for Yoojin. She seemed like such a sweet girl that it pained you to even imagine her hurt in any sort of way. With her fluffy hair and wide eyes, it made you feel like you were helping an injured puppy. 

Your legs felt like concrete after a while of running, but you finally made it to the parking lot building. Entering the parking lot, you looked for any sign of a staircase where Yoojin said she fell on. There were none. 

“Excuse me, where are the stairs to this parking lot?” You asked the parking lot attendant, assuming it was just hidden somewhere. 

“There are no stairs here,” He said, “if you want to get to the second floor, there is an elevator over there.” He pointed to the other side of the lot. 

You thanked the man and ran to the elevator, hoping Yoojin wasn’t too hurt by now. You’ve experienced injuries like these before whilst playing sports back home, they hurt like hell. Your breathing was staggered by the time you reached the elevator, however, you didn’t give up and kept looking around trying to find the girl. There was nobody. You were about to call Yoojin again just to make sure you were in the correct place, but a voice interrupted you. 

“Y/n.” 

It was Manager Kim.

[justfor2am]

life's a drag, so make it a show!

Trans Sides Week Tuesday Prompt: Discovery/Coming Out/Acceptance

Word Count: 2642

TWs: occasional swearing

@transsidesweek Read it on Ao3! Summary: Roman's life isn't exactly all glitz and glamor. It's terribly dull at times, to the point that he picks up a little hobby along the way. And it's fun, and it's wild, and he's never known to feel so at home in his skin with this much glitter, but he's not complaining. It's telling his friends that make the whole ordeal so much more... real. Or, Roman plays twister with his gender and Janus finds out in the most convoluted way possible.

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.

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Life was a constant blur. Roman's day started at 5 a.m. and would end at ten if he was lucky. He usually wasn't lucky. It wasn't his fault that being a law intern was so hectic, he'd be lucky if he made partner of the firm in the next ten years.

And sure, maybe going to law school and taking five years to graduate instead of three didn't help his growth, and maybe this wasn't what he'd planned to do with his life at all, but rent wasn't cheap and Roman wanted out of this house ASAP and at least the salary was constant.

In the end, Roman could deal with the cramped apartment and the long hours and even the loneliness of coming home to a bed for one.

Because he had a secret that made it all worthwhile.

On Friday nights he was always the last to leave his work. He'd take the 11 p.m bus going south towards the heart of the city, far away from his dingy apartment and the dull life of office work to a sea of vibrant colors, of bars and strip clubs and gaiety lining the streets.

And he always found himself at 4140 Rosalie Way, the busiest bar on the block.

Its name was Dionysus Indulgence, and every Friday and Saturday night, posters filled the window with the same face.

They read: "Weekend Show Headliner! Vixen Venus for a 2 A.M Rendezvous!!"

Vixen wasn't actually part of the name, it was just Venus, but for some reason adding that to the front sold more tickets. At this point it might as well be his name.

Roman would scurry into the backrooms, already halfway undressed from the waist up and quick to pick his outfit for the night, organize his set list of songs, do his makeup (his eyebrows were always a bitch and a half to get flat) and find someone to make sure his wig was secure in the back.

Drag was an escape from the real world. Here he wasn't an overworked law intern in dull black or grey suits, he was Venus, Queen of the planet of love, an Empress who took no shit from no man (unless he had change to spare.)

Sometimes in the brief pauses between running, Roman wonders if it were possible to step away from manhood altogether. But there was never enough time to let the thought properly brew.

Besides, he had two hours to get his act together and god knows makeup alone would take up nearly two-thirds of it.

So he never indulged in the thought of transition long, or ever considered it really. He focused on taking in every moment on the stage, surviving on the thrill of cheers and applause from an adoring crowd. Life couldn't get much better than this.

It was yet another Friday night, and Roman tapped his foot impatiently staring at the clock. There was still a hour until he could escape, and time seemed to drag on forever.

His cell phone buzzed, and with a glance at the caller I.D. answered it. "Jay you know I'm at work, can it wait?" he cut in, turning his attention back to the spreadsheet on his desktop monitor.

"Well you've skipped out on my calls all week, I think I can bother you at work for five minutes," a cool voice crackled over the line.

Roman groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, sorry, this week's just been a lot. Work and all that," he said.

"Which is exactly why I'm calling. You need a break, have some fun," the voice purred. "Listen, I finally got tickets to that drag show downtown, Vixen Venus? You were a huge drama nerd in high school so I figured you'd like drag—"

"Lies and you know it—"

"Whatever. It was a pretty penny to get these tickets for tonight's show, and you're coming with me."

Roman sighed, it wasn't the first time that he'd been caught between reality and fantasy. "Sorry, to burst your bubble Lying McPhee, but I can't tonight. I've got to stay late and get a report turned in, it's going to be an all-nighter situation."

"Oh my god, you are married to that job and it's killing me. Ro I haven't seen you in almost a month, you've bail on brunch with me every Sunday so far, you don't come to game night with the rest of us anymore, you don't go out, you don't take breaks, it's like you're a completely different person after getting this stupid job." Roman pulled the phone away from his ear, letting Janus rant to the air instead of him.

"You need to slow down. You'll burn out at this rate." If it wasn't for how sharp his tone sounded, Roman would almost think Janus really cared.

"Listen," Roman started, but now it was his turn to be cut off.

"No, you listen to me. I am coming to pick you up from your stupid job and you and I are going to go have a good time at this club, you hear me? And I know you get off at midnight so don't even try to flake out on me."

Roman smiled to himself. It seems being a workaholic had its perks, that being no one knew his real hours. Putting on the mopiest tone he could muster, "God, fine, alright, can you at least let me finish what I'm working on then? Because if you're just going to yak at me until you get here then I really will have to stay late."

"Deal. Midnight, outside, and don't you dare try running away."

"Midnight. I promise."

When midnight rolled around, Janus was unsurprised to see Roman no where to be found, but was still a little annoyed. Knocking his head against the steering wheel in frustration, Janus made a beeline for Roman's apartment, banging on the door (and when that didn't work, picking the lock) only to find the place empty.

"Okay, totally not suspicious, he has literally no other hobbies so there's nowhere else he could be," Janus muttered aloud, checking his cell for messages.

Roman's phone buzzed half a city away, where he sat in front of a vanity baking his face. He glanced at it, cringing before sending a hasty text to avoid a phone call.

'sorry!!! forgot today was shopping day and i had some dry cleaning to pick up. another time i promise :('

Janus groaned, stomping out of the apartment and texted another contact saved as V.

'ro bailed on me you wanna go see venus @ the d.i? i got tickets'

'sure lol i'm already at the strip. meet u there in 30 tho i've gotta talk with my bassist'

He sighed, pocketing his phone and heading back to his car. If Roman wouldn't come have fun, that wasn't stopping Janus, he'd make his own goddamn fun.

He texted Vera the spare ticket details before entering the club himself a short drive later, quick to have a drink in hand and relax a bit before the show. It was only 1 a.m., so there was an entire hour to kill before the performance.

Janus was never the type to go clubbing, but he made exceptions for his friends.

Eventually though there came the search for the bathroom, something that generally never went well in a packed club full of drunken strangers. Throwing back the final sips of his drink, Janus made the push to weasel his was through the crowd, finding himself at some sort of stairwell leading to a lower level with more doors.

Not one for asking directions (he knew exactly where he was going, thank you very much,) Janus nosed around downstairs, entirely amused at the flurry of performs in various states of undress, from a younger looking queen yanking on stilettos teetering down the hall, to someone yanking on their wig cap in men's trousers and a glittery sequin top.

With all the confidence and grace of someone lightly tipsy with a resting bitch face, Janus sauntered around still in search of a bathroom, before his ears picked up an annoying familiar voice.

Creeping around a corner, he stood to the side of an unmarked dressing room, peering in through the gap of the unlocked door. It was hard to see, but by the looks of it there was only one person inside, hurriedly shuffling through what he assumed were eye shadow pallets from what Janus could tell. All the while the person muttered loudly to themself, an endless stream-of-conscious sort of ramble.

"….and I've got to get that dumb report turned in by Monday, but I'll be damned if I post-pone tomorrow night I need that show. I should've brought my laptop here, ugh, maybe I can get someone to go to my apartment for me…?"

"Is that so?" In one broad swing of the arm, Janus shoved the door open, blinking in visible surprise at the state Roman was in.

Dressed in a full body black mesh suit from his torso to his hips, red glitter decorated his tights to hide the hip inserts, coupled with thigh-high shiny leather boots with a terrifying heel. His biceps were doused in glitter too, truly there was no part of himself that wasn't glimmering in some sort of fashion. A pair of boob inserts lay innocent on the vanity table, the rest messily covered in well-used make up products with a wig rack propped up haphazardly to the left of it. In his right hand was indeed an eye shadow pallet like Janus had suspected, coupled with a brush in his left held in a white-knuckle grip.

The two stared at each other, Janus' jaw slack in surprise (sure, he'd heard Roman talking, but he didn't really think he'd be in here,) and Roman tight-lipped, a flushed, embarrassed heat rising up to his face.

"Of all the side jobs to have," Janus said, after a painfully long pause, "this is somehow the one that suits you the most that I'd never thought you'd have."

Roman, still pink in the cheeks, slowly lowered the pallet, now fiddling with the brush handle in his left hand. "I— I, you weren't supposed to know." His eyes dragged down to the other's feet, darting across the floorboards.

To Janus, this was alarming behavior. Roman? Embarrassed by something queer and fun? That did not track at all. "Huh? Why? Am I supposed to be bothered that you're living a full and exciting life, not just slaving away at a desk 24/7?"

Still the other did not look up at him, now rolling the brush between his hands. "I don't know, I didn't think you would've… believed me. Like, of all people, I'm the one who couldn't do this. Or, I guess, shouldn't."

Now it was Janus' turn to be embarrassed, taking a spot on the cluttered loveseat decorated with spare stockings. "Of course you could do something like this. You're Roman Astor, you once did pull-ups from the theater lighting rig for twenty dollars and only got suspended for a week. You dressed up in a tutu and plastic fairy wings to run around the school for every SGA donation drive. Hell, you passed the football team try outs and turned down your leading position because practice would cut into the fall theater production."

The stories coaxed a small smile from Roman, and he gradually stopped twirling the brush.

"You've done arguably crazier things for years, why would I think you couldn't be a star?"

Roman turned to look at the wig rack, his wide assortment from years of collecting. "Because even for me, this is out there. And don't even—" he cut Janus off before another monologue could start, "you said your piece so I'm saying mine."

With a nervous swallow, "you can't say that doing some silly stunts when I was sixteen compared to dressing up like a woman and doing aerial inverts on a stripper pole covered in body glitter at 25 are the same thing. I could barely take being gay when I was outed, now this? It's… I just wanted to avoid that conversation," he mumbled.

"Besides," he ranted on, "I have a real job now with serious people that I can't risk losing because of some weird fantasy I have of, I don't know, gender swapping or whatever. It's dumb, and it's not going to last, so I just wanted to make the most of the time I had left before I really am trapped at that nightmare of a worksite. Is that so much to ask?"

From where he sat, Janus felt like he was thirteen again, sitting across his once-enemy in the way only children could, learning for the first time that being queer was something they shared, and something they feared. Something to be ashamed of.

But they weren't thirteen anymore. Maybe the attacks didn't stop, or the self-loathing get much better, but they had survived. And from the few things he'd heard of Roman's performances, and the way he saw him now, Janus knew damn well that this was more than just a hobby. This was Roman's way of living past survival.

He wasn't about to let the other give up on that.

"Six weeks," Janus said.

Roman glanced up at him, confusion tugging him out of his mental spiral. "Huh?"

"It's taken me six weeks to get tickets to this show. That's a testament to how popular you are, and how damn badly I wanted to see you perform, without even knowing it was you. And in that time, I've come to see a couple other people perform, and it seems to me like this is their full-time job, it's what drives them the most at the end of the day."

Janus reached for Roman's hands, clasping them in his own. "You don't have to know who you are or what you want right now. You don't have to ever, really. But this makes you happy, so who cares if you're in a wig or not? You'd look damn good in one," he tacked on, and Roman stifled a small laugh.

"You can be Roman, or Venus, or someone new entirely if you want. So long as it brings you joy, the rest of the world can suck it."

"Then…" Roman bit at his lip, in serious mental discussion with himself. "I want to be Rosalie. Not all the time, just right now. But, in a neutral way? I don't know how any of this works—"

"Girl, neither do I," Janus laughed. "But it's a pleasure to meet you Rose."

Rosalie beamed, their sunny disposition peering through their formerly gloomy, panicked mood. "Jay, you're incredible. I need you to leave."

Janus balked. He was almost pissed. "I just hyped you up so fucking good, and you're booting me? You bitch."

Rosalie laughed, "Jay I have twenty minutes to finish getting dressed and the wig takes ten of those twenty. Yes, I am kicking you the hell out. How'd you even get downstairs anyways, patrons aren't supposed to be down here?"

"Anything's possible with a mean glare and a bitchin' strut," Janus sighed, letting go of Rosalie's hands, popping them on his hips. "You'd better get ready then, I didn't buy front row tickets for nothing."

Janus turned on his heel to leave, stopping at the doorway. "R? I did invite Vera since you bailed, do you want me to—?"

"Let her guess, if she figures it out then you two can come next week for free," they laughed, already back to fixing their make up.

"God, you're more of a money hound than I am," Janus muttered, a matching grin on his face.

Laughter was easiest when everyone was in on the joke.

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 02

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 6.5k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: After almost three months of no writing...I finished this chapter :) I hope you enjoy...please leave me feedback in the form of comments or an ask. The long break has made me worry about a bit about whether people will even read my stuff anymore lol

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

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The next two months pass by with only a few growing pains in terms of teaching. You’d discovered pretty quickly that a group of twenty students could easily turn into pure and utter chaos. Particularly when one of them accidentally turns another into a turnip.

That had not been the best first-week experience if you were being honest.

There had been a few minutes when you’d been convinced 

But you were certainly getting used to everything. It was odd being on the other side now, being the one who commanded attention from the students. You had an almost desperate need to be liked by them at first, but the other professors had quickly dissuaded you from that. They were not your friends, and you’d learnt that if you gave them an inch then they’d take a mile.

It had been pleasant though, and you were certainly enjoying everything. There was nothing better than the smile on a student’s face when they got a spell right, with the knowledge that you’d been the one to teach them that. 

The comments you’d been told on your first note about the house stereotypes had also proven to be true. You’d never seen so many Slytherin’s chatting happily with Gryffindor’s and so forth. Whole friendship groups were made up of varying houses and none appeared to be left out. Nor had you seen any house related bullying as there had been in your day.

Once typical insults of a Slytherin being home to a Death Eater had vanished for the most part. The one time you had seen it, hurled by a Hufflepuff of all things, had resulted in complete outrage amongst all the students. It had warmed your heart to see the younger generations working in far better harmony than yours or your previous generations ever had.

Chaeyoung had become the equivalent of your work best friend, bringing her marking over to your office and spending time chatting happily with you. Seokjin had also become a close friend or at least as close as someone could get in only two months. The two of them were fascinating, coming from vastly different lifestyles.

Her family were practically magical royalty in France, though she’d moved to the UK whilst only a child to live with her grandparents after the deaths of her parents. As such, she’d ended up attending Hogwarts and had been in the year below Hoseok. Despite her initial French upbringing, she had no hint of an accent though she’d spouted fluent French to you when you’d queried her language abilities.

She also spoke Spanish, which had led to her initially getting a job as a translator at a magical exporting company. It had amused you thoroughly that it had been based in Devon, along the southern coast of England with France just over the narrow Channel Sea. Chaeyoung had laughed at the time, acknowledging that the mild weather was much nicer than the temperamental mistress you had to contend with here in northern Scotland. 

It hadn’t proven to her liking though, and she’d soon ended up applying for the vacant History of Magic position. She’d been quick to explain that she’d taken up an extra qualification in her chosen area and that she wasn’t just randomly picked. You knew from Jisoo that muggles had a different way to education, but there were no real universities here in the wizarding world. 

Chaeyoung studied hard enough and was very knowledgeable about her chosen area, so you didn’t see too much issue regarding it. And she was a popular teacher, helping to turn a subject that many would often find dull into something fun and interesting.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was older than you. He was 36, with a wife of ten years and two young sons. He’d trained in astronomy in the Ministry and had brought his skills to Hogwarts three years ago. You’d ended up bonding together over your dual experiences in the Ministry; both lamenting over the different departments and positions you’d had yet the same bureaucratic headaches. 

He was a joyful sort with a smile always on his face for you and his students along with a genuine passion for the stars and the universe. You knew that he made it a goal to read much of what the muggles were doing, his fascination with the fact that they’d been to space bordering on an almost obsession.

It was no surprise to you that these have been the two that you had ended up so close with. Both had the experience of working outside of Hogwarts and that seemed to make you all different from the other professors. Everyone else had interned here immediately after finishing before taking on their chosen role.

Jimin came from a long line of auror wizards and witches that stretched back centuries. This meant that he had extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts inherited from their wise teachings. His mother and father still worked in the Ministry, which meant that he’d slipped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts position with ease. 

Which was a good thing as it had remained an awkward position after the Second Wizarding War. It was a role that was often hard to fill as some many witches and wizards felt that it would be best to ignore that the Dark Arts even existed. If no one knew about the Dark Arts, and all the horrific violence and devastation that had occurred with them, then there wouldn’t be any need to defend it. 

That was, of course, a most ridiculous idea and Hogwarts had firmly resisted any such attempts to whitewash both the history and the concept of the Dark Arts. By not acknowledging what happened, and teaching to both understand why it happened alongside how to protect against it, then it would just happen again.

But it remained an exceptionally unpopular position due to the intimate knowledge of the Dark Arts required. To know how best to protect against the Dark spells, you had to know what the Dark spells were. 

You had experienced at least three professors during your tenure as a student.

That had all changed five years ago though when Park Jimin had finally taken over when his predecessor had packed it all in to go and study the famous dragons in Romania. The handsome silver-haired professor was young, but he had won over the staff of the prestigious school with his astonishingly good spellwork.

The fact that he had also made short work of their hearts was because he was also incredibly good looking, much to his benefit when it came to dating you were sure.

Jimin wasn’t just a pretty face though; he was the best dueller in the school. From what you’d been told, he had yet to be bested. Which honestly, was to be expected from someone with such a prestigious bloodline as his.

But not only that, he’d proven to be sweet and kind to his students with a backbone of steel as well. While there may be no true bad blood between houses now, Slytherin still garnered an air of suspicion from other houses even to this day. 

Given the preponderance of dark witches and wizards that the house had produced over the years, it was a well-earnt suspicion, unfortunately. Still, you didn’t believe that the bad decisions and choices made by people long ago should have any bearing on your current students; all of them born long after those terrible events.

Jimin had proven to be an excellent example of why you should never stereotype people based on what others had done. In your opinion, he was an exceptional teacher and had taken on the helm of the Defence Against the Dark Arts role with the clear mindset of not only helping to protect his students but also to try and prevent them from making poor choices.

It was a tough subject to teach as it meant constantly walking a narrow line while also steering students true through narrow and murky waters. There were plenty of students who might find themselves a little too fascinated in the concept of the Dark Arts, after all.

According to Chaeyoung, Jimin tried to combat this by making sure to teach them about the history of the Dark Arts. From what you understood, he held no punches in making sure they all knew the horrific acts of murder and sacrifice that had been committed to preventing students from romanticising a dark part of wizarding history. 

Not only that, but he made sure to teach about the most infamous dark wizards in history; the Death Eaters and Voldemort. This was all to ensure that they did not repeat the mistakes of the past. He took his role seriously, whether it was through spellwork or simply enriching the minds.

Despite his relative youth, you’d come to know him as passionate and hard-working with a true love for his students. Whether they be in Slytherin or Gryffindor. It was just one of the many things that you had come to grow to love about Hogwarts in your short time here so far, the way the school had adapted and grown so quickly.

Hogwarts was a castle that had been built from stone carved centuries ago and housed ancient treasures of the wizarding world, but the Battle of Hogwarts had been a turning point for many. No longer did it constantly look at the past with pure pride, and to many - ignorance, but instead looked to the future as well.

It sought to teach well-rounded wizards and witches that would enrich the community. Which meant it had attempted to modernise itself as much as it could. Of course, it didn’t match the sparkling modernity of steel and technology that the muggle world had developed over the last two centuries but it was improving itself and working to develop new magics that would mirror some of the advancements that the muggles had made.

Perhaps the only thing you’d found a little awkward to embrace was teaching itself. You’d been eager to begin but had quickly realised that teaching was much more complicated than you’d imagined. For all of the good things that Hogwarts was doing lately, it seemed odd to you that they didn’t even bother teaching their professors to teach.

A few discussions with some of the others had revealed that they also had this issue when they’d started. It seemed to have been easier for those who hadn’t spent too much time away from the school after they’d graduated but it had been a long time since you’d been schooled here. Teaching methods had changed and you’d struggled to maintain a healthy balance of actually teaching, answering questions to help students, having open hours to encourage students who were struggling to have extra tuition and finding time to mark the essays that you handed out. 

In short, it had been a very steep learning curve for yourself. Thankfully, your students had given you the benefit of the doubt, which meant they’d been very accepting of any mistakes you’d made. You’d also worked with the other professors to establish a good teaching plan for each of your lessons while also cross-referencing to ensure students weren’t loaded with too much homework.

It was more work than you’d expected, which made you understand how naive you’d been. But you found it to be satisfying work and the reward of seeing students learn and retain their knowledge throughout their lessons was better than anything you’d done in your previous job. And that was to say nothing about the pure wonder and joy on the faces of the first-year students when you had begun their education.

Underlying all of your experiences so far though was one Jung Hoseok. Whilst you’d become quick friends with Seokjin and Chaeyoung, Hoseok was a strange enigma to you. He was friendly and always willing to help you whenever you got confused over something or were feeling a little stressed.

His job as the Care of Magical Creatures professor meant that you rarely saw him during school hours. A large portion of his time was spent outside in the Forbidden Forest or in the custom-built buildings that housed many of the fantastical creatures that he cared for. You knew that he did have a classroom though. It wasn’t anywhere near yours but it held a lot of the smaller creatures that didn’t do so well in the Scottish climate.

Hoseok’s commitment to his job was commendable as he often spent a lot of hours outside. Which meant that as the months slowly shifted to winter, he was finding himself in the cold and rain a lot more often than not.

More than once, you’d spotted him outside when peeking through one of your classroom windows and noted him completely drenched as the rain poured down. It made you cringe each time you saw it, knowing that his robes would be heavy with water. But he never complained about it, even though he was the only professor who also had to work on the weekends.

On top of that, he was also busy with being the Head of Hufflepuff. From what you understood from your talks with Jimin, it meant always being available outside of learning hours for his House students. Whether they wanted to talk about a problem they had or simply needed advice, he was there to help them with whatever they needed.

It also meant that he had to attend every Quidditch game, and you wondered how he managed to cope with such a full schedule. You felt exhausted after a week of just your normal work but knowing how much extra he put in was mind-blowing. 

Despite this though, you’d noticed over time that Hoseok always made sure to be present for every meal in the Great Hall. And much like the first meal you’d shared at the top table, he always sat next to you. You hadn’t thought anything of it until Seokjin had casually mentioned one day while you’d been at Hogsmeade with him and Chaeyoung that he’d never sat in that place before.

His old spot was actually on the other side of the table, next to Taehyung and Jimin. Seokjin hadn’t even thought anything of his comment but it had caused you to pause, wondering why Hoseok had felt the need to change his position. At the time, you’d simply shrugged and pointed out that you’d known him when he was younger and that his sister was your best friend. 

It only made sense that he wanted to be there to help you out and make sure you were okay.

But that excuse started to falter when you thought about the fact that he never mentioned Jisoo to you. Hoseok didn’t mention anything of the past that you both shared. Instead, he would talk about Hogwarts now and your jobs or ask about what life was like at the Ministry when you’d been there. Those topics often led off onto little tangents and you’d both find yourselves chattering away with each other as the meals went on.

The others would get involved too when they could, but there was something...singular about Hoseok’s focus. And that was to say nothing of how he always made sure to walk you back to your quarters after dinner. There was never much talk that happened then, instead, the two of you simply enjoyed the architecture and decoration of Hogwarts as you found different ways to get back, the company exquisite in its silence.

A comfortable silence that you hadn’t found with many other people.

Chaeyoung was convinced that Hoseok liked you. You’d tried to debunk that theory by pointing out that he’d fancied you when he was younger and it was probably just the allure of an older girl who was more accessible to him than others. You were always around given your friendship with his sister and he’d probably just transferred his teenage hormones onto you at the time.

If anything, he was probably embarrassed about how obvious he was back then. Poor Hoseok had never been subtle in anything.

Despite your defence, Chaeyoung had simply given you a look that you hadn’t been able to interpret. Nor did you understand the subtle glances and smirks that she exchanged with Seokjin whenever Hoseok sat next to you at the dining table. It was like there was a silent conversation happening between the two of them about you, only you weren’t included in it.

Thankfully, you weren’t the type of person to be too influenced by other’s thoughts and opinions. So you didn’t let Chaeyoung’s opinion on the subject impact upon your burgeoning friendship with Hoseok. So even though there was a voice in the back of your mind telling you that there was something more, you ignored it and chose not to ruin the fledgeling friendship you had.

You’d felt a sense of relief though that Chaeyoung had been too busy with marking papers to attend dinner last night, which meant that she hadn’t been able to overhear your conversation with Hoseok last night. The two of you had been discussing his lesson plans for the next few weeks and what creatures his students were going to be studying.

He’d suddenly gotten an odd look on his face before grinning. If there was one thing you had learnt upon being back at Hogwarts, it was that Hoseok’s smile was perhaps one of the prettiest things you’d ever seen. Which was why you’d smiled back at him immediately, even though you had no idea what he was so happy about.

But he hadn’t made you wait and had instead asked if you were tonight. You’d acknowledged it and confusion had been written all over your face but he’d just given an enigmatic shrug. All he’d said after that was to meet him at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest an hour after dinner. 

Which was why you were now standing in the dark. Your robes were wrapped tightly around you but it did nothing to stop the way you shivered, jaw tight as a cold wind rushed through the trunks of the trees before you. Part of you wanted to run back to the castle if only to grab your winter coat, but you didn’t want to look like you’d stood Hoseok up. 

Though you did wish he’d turn up quicker rather than later.

Huddling under your cloak more, you clasped the edges together with your hands and pushed it up to cover your mouth and nose. It didn’t do a whole lot against the cold, but it was better than being exposed to it. Even though the wind wasn’t strong, it was still enough to cause your robes to flap, the sound loud against the quiet of the grounds.

The only other sound right now was the wind as it howled through the Forbidden Forest, making the already dark and ominous area look even scarier. Even though you were now an adult, there was an underlying fear of the forest before you. Perhaps it was because it had been firmly ingrained in you as a student that this area was off-limits or something.

Still, you wouldn’t want to go walking around in it on your own anytime soon.

The sight of the trees suddenly moving ahead of you made you gasp quietly, body freezing in position as you squinted to try and see what it had been. You knew that the forest was full of many magical creatures; not all of them gentle and kind.

Swallowing hard, you stayed in place to try and avoid attention, gaze skittering around as you tried to find that shape once more. A branch cracking caused you to flinch, your hands tightening into fists around the material of your cloak and you had to clench your jaw to stop any noise from escaping.

The black shape formed once more ahead of you and you almost shrieked in fright, getting ready to run away until you saw a sudden flash of brighter colour. Frowning, you let your hands unclasp themselves until you realised it was a yellow scarf and realisation flooded through your body.

“Bloody hell!” You cursed, the syllables being spat with indignation. Hoseok looked up in surprise, his own eyes widening in surprise before concern etched itself onto his face when he saw the dual outrage and fear on you. Striding forward, you met him just as he was about to cross over the boundary of the trees onto the grounds of the castle and poked at this chest, a scowl on your face.

“You didn’t think to warn me you were going to be coming from the forest! Merlin’s beard, I almost ran away because I was afraid it was something that was going to hurt me.” Hissing at him, you realised belatedly that you had to look up to him to do this. Damn him and his growth spurt.

Still, he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it might seem a little scary. I was just coming back from checking on the centaurs; I haven’t been able to meet them in a while and wanted to see if they were okay.” His explanation was logical but it still made you scowl.

“Why aren’t you carrying a light or something?! Do you always just gallivant around the Forbidden Forest in the dark? Aren’t there dangerous things here?” You pepper him with the questions quickly, each one causing his brow to rise higher incrementally. It’s a good job that it’s dark because you don’t notice the way the corner of his lips quirks up in amusement at your tirade.

“I don’t use one in there, not normally. I know my way around very well. I have worked in this forest for years now. But I do have lanterns dotted around in case I need one and I can always use a lumos spell, like now. I figured you wouldn’t want to journey in the dark.” At that, he pulls his wand out of a pocket in his robes and mutters the spell, the tip lighting up with bright white.

Narrowing your eyes at the sudden influx of light, you’re momentarily startled by just how handsome Hoseok looks in the light. It casts an almost blue glow to him, his normally sun-kissed skin looking paler than you’ve ever seen it before. The shadows on his face only serve to highlight the sharp angles of his features while his eyes almost glitter.

It’s only then that you realise you’re staring, quickly averting your gaze away and focusing them on your hands instead. At that moment, another harsh wind blows through and you shiver in response, your shoulders lifting as you try to curl in on yourself.

Gripping your cloak once more, you’re too distracted to notice what Hoseok is doing. The only sign is the light going a little wonky for a few moments before you’re startled by the sudden feeling of softness on your neck.

Letting out a small ‘eep’ of surprise, you jerk away only to see Hoseok staring at you with wide eyes, his scarf no longer wrapped around his neck and instead being held out to you. The Hufflepuff colours look washed out in the odd light and you pause, giving him a confused look as you glance between the scarf and him.

Brows raised, he lifts the item before giving you a slow smile. “You’re cold. You can wear this if you want. It’s not as chilly in the forest but I don’t want you to get poorly because of it. I should have warned you, sorry.”

It seems like all he’s done is apologise so far and it makes you feel bad, causing you to nod your head and take the scarf from him. Wrapping it around your neck, you immediately feel a little warmer and you can’t help but take a deep inhale of the scent woven into the soft fibres. It’s a more concentrated form of what you get to smell every meal time; citrus and something with a slight hint of spice.

For a second, you wonder if it’s a cologne it’s bought himself or if perhaps it’s something a woman bought for him. It suits him, either way.

“Are you ready? You don’t have to come if you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything…” Hoseok trails off, biting his lip in an almost nervous way that makes you feel a little odd. Pushing the thought away, you hum and glance behind him into the forest. Your curiosity was too much and so you nodded firmly, giving him a gentle smile before gesturing for him to start walking.

Without another word, he turns around and begins to walk once more. You notice casually that he’s following a path cut into the forest, the ground level and even compared to the wildness all around you. Alongside the sound of your boots on the dirt, you realise that there are a few other noises all around you.

The gentle hoot of an owl is overwhelmed by a shriek far away, causing a chill to run up your spine. Shuffling forward a little quicker, you almost reach out to Hoseok as a tinge of fear takes over. As if he can tell, he turns around and gives you a concerned look.

“What was that?” Whispering, you glance around and wonder if you should talk loudly. Hoseok looks in the same direction as you do before shrugging slightly.

“Could be anything. This forest is full of creatures, both magical and mundane. Might be a bat or could be something else. Don’t worry though, there’s not usually anything dangerous around this part of the forest. It’s too close to the edge and the creatures that can do the most harm prefer to remain deep within the forest.” It’s almost casual the way he slows to walk alongside you, giving you the safety of his presence but you notice it all the same.

Not that you comment on it, of course. But you appreciate it nonetheless.

Giving him a noncommittal sound, you continue until he takes a sudden turn off the path. The forest floor is dense with foliage and tree roots, causing you to trip a few times. Hoseok helps you along, reaching you to hold your arm to keep you upright when you trip over one too many roots and you get the sense he’s enjoying this.

Maybe it’s because he lets out a soft chuckle when you swear loudly, scowling down at the deeply embedded rock that you’d accidentally kicked. Despite the fact your best friend’s little brother is leading you deep into a scary, dark forest, you don’t feel any concern about him. What could be in the forest, sure, but not him.

He gives off a sense of security that surprises you. All those years ago, Hoseok had been the perfect example of an annoying little brother to Jisoo. Always irritating her and doing things with the sole purpose of being a pain, which in turn meant doing those things to you as well. But now he seemed dependable and you got the sense that you’d want him with you if anything bad happened.

“Okay, we’re almost there. Now, I need you to stay very calm and don’t make any large or sudden movements. You might scare her.” Staring at him in alarm, you suddenly realise that you’ve not even questioned what he’s wanting to show you. Not that he’d have told you, you’re positive of that, but his instructions make you feel a little uneasy.

Upon seeing your face in the light of his wand, he gives a small smile and rests his hand on your arm reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, I promise, you’re going to like this. You’ll understand what I mean.” Frowning at him, you watch as he starts forward once more and realise he’s heading into a little clearing. Sighing deeply, you realise that you don’t want to stand there on your own so you follow him slowly, almost hesitant to see whatever he’s bringing you to.

You swear, if it’s one of those obscenely large spiders that’s supposed to live in this forest then you’re going to jinx him with something he’ll still be suffering from in a year.

The clearing is small and almost circular, though the position of some trees makes it seem a little broken in places. Long grass that is almost bouncy cushions your feet and you wonder if flowers would grow in the daylight, the canopy of trees above broken and allowing more sky through than elsewhere.

During the day it would get a lot of sunlight, but at the moment you couldn’t help staring in awe at the moon as it glowed brightly, it’s full body visible against the black of the sky. A few stars twinkled serenely alongside it, looking peaceful and creating a beautiful image. 

A pale, ghostly colour catches your attention from the corner of your eye and you find yourself pressing to Hoseok a little closer. His back is strong and solid against your hands as you tense in concern, peeking around him to try and catch what it was.

What you see causes you to gasp out loud, letting go of Hoseok’s robes abruptly as you take a wide step away from him to get a better view.

Long, sinewy legs move through the forest in an almost dainty manner, picking their way through the undergrowth with care and precision. There’s almost no sound as the creature moves towards the clearing, only the softest rustle of leaves that can’t be avoided. It’s fascinating how quietly it can move given its size and you wonder if it’s some magical ability that allows that.

Within moments, the shape coalesces into a clearer image as it passes through the edge of the trees on the other side of the clearing. A silver coat practically glows under the moonlight, giving the creature an ethereal feel that makes you feel that it’s not even real. That you’re just seeing an apparition instead of a real animal.

The horn on its head is long and spiralling, ending in a deadly point while the pale white mane and tail flow in elegant waves towards the ground. Golden hooves paw softly at the grass, glinting slightly.

A unicorn.

“Merlin’s beard…” You whisper, pressing a hand to your mouth before looking at Hoseok. “A unicorn...that’s a unicorn!”

They were rare creatures, even rarer now due to being hunted over the centuries by both muggles and wizards. Muggles thought them a myth now while you knew the rumour of the powerful properties that unicorn blood had. You hadn’t even known the Forbidden Forest had unicorns in them.

“It is. I haven’t named her, seems a little wrong to name her. They normally don’t really like men but I found her when she was injured two years ago. She was dying and I helped nurse her back to health. Unicorns have great memories and we’ve kind of become...friends? Or as much of a friend as you can be to one.” He finishes, smiling as he watches the unicorn snort almost in agreement.

Her eyes are a deep black in the moonlight but you note they look almost friendly and kind. Hoseok’s hand on your back pushes you forward slightly, causing you to start and look back at him with wide eyes.

“Move slowly...hold your hand out to her so she can see it and smell it. Be careful and like I said...no sudden moves. You’re a woman so she’s more likely to accept you anyway, but she’ll let you know if she’s not happy.” Gulping, you nod and take a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, you try to stop the trembling in your limbs.

Whether it’s from excitement at finally getting to see your favourite magical creature in the flesh or fear of being gored to death by that dangerous horn, you don’t know. But you follow Hoseok’s words, trusting him to be right.

Slowly, you walk forwards with your hand out, palm side up. Each step you take, you stare intently at the body of the unicorn to try and catch any movement that might be viewed as hostile. Given she had four legs, there was no way you could outrun her but you’d at least like to say you had a head start.

Despite your worry, she makes no threatening moves. If anything, she seems cautiously curious; her ears pricked forwards towards you and her eyes remaining focused solely on you. Not a muscle in her body moves, only the chilly wind blowing through her mane and tail.

Finally, you’re almost within touching distance of her. But instead of carrying on, you stop. Something inside you tells you that it’s a good idea to do that, to let her come to you and accept you. So you remain standing there with your palm held out to her, watching her closely.

Nostrils slightly darker than the rest of her body flare wide a few times, likely taking in as much air as she can to smell you. It isn’t enough though and she slowly extends her neck out, her refined head stretching out until you can feel the hotness of her breath. Not moving, you let her investigate until finally, she takes one careful step forward and presses the velvety softness of her muzzle into your hand.

Smiling, you let her increase the pressure before turning your hand and gently stroking her. There’s a moment of almost curiosity in her eyes, not that you can tell what a unicorn is feeling, before she lets out a huff of air and leans her head into your touch, obviously enjoying the feeling. 

Your smile turns into a wide grin as you run your hand along her face slowly, letting her get used to the feel of you before you gently scratch at her chin. Almost instantly her ears flatten and you feel a pang of panic, but she just lifts her head and lets out a nicker of contentment, giving you a better position.

“She likes you.” You hear from beside you, and you turn to see Hoseok patting the unicorn’s neck.

Turning away from you momentarily, the mare lets out a soft whinny as she looks behind her into the forest. Frowning, you crane your head to try to see what she’s looking at. Soft footfalls being and you look at Hoseok in confusion, tilting your head at the sight of his grin.

Before you can ask him what’s going on, there’s a high pitched neigh and the mare turns her head back to you, butting at your hand gently. Glancing to her side, your jaw drops once more and you can’t help but squeal lightly.

A foal is standing next to her, it’s coat fluffy with baby fur and a beautiful golden that contrasts completely from its mother. There’s no horn on its head, only a tiny nub that will one day grow long and tall. Gangly legs look too long for its body and the short, fuzzy tail make you coo in delight as it flicks it from side to side eagerly, those big eyes staring at you as it almost dances in place.

Looking at its mum, you almost ask for the permission with a hand raised in the foal's direction and you could swear the unicorn almost nods. Slowly, you move towards the foal and stroke along its short neck, marvelling at how soft and fluffy it is. The foal snorts, its entire body wobbling from the movement and you giggle in delight, completely awed by the sight of them both.

“She had this foal only a month ago, so he’s still pretty small. But he’s a sweetheart and so friendly. As you probably know, he’ll keep that gold coat for two years before paling out to silver.” Hoseok says casually, still stroking the mare and smiling at her fondly. 

For a few minutes, you’re too busy playing with the foal to pay attention to his words but they finally sink in.

“What do you mean, as you probably know?” Neither of you had discussed unicorns so far during your mealtime talks, so you didn’t know why he’d think that. Sure, you’d been taught about unicorns in school but that had been so long ago and it hadn’t even been a full class on them. 

Your love of them had meant you’d learnt much more about them, absorbing all the information you could find in books when you were a teenager. The fact that you were finally standing here, stroking not only a unicorn but also her foal was something that you’d always wished you could do. Given how rare they were though, you’d never expected it to happen.

“Well, they’re your favourite magical creature, right? Or they were, anyway.” He frowns slightly, unsure if he’s got something wrong and you simply stare at him for a moment.

Had he remembered that from when you’d been at Hogwarts? Given your love of them, it was only natural that he’d known about them back then given how often you’d spent time at his house to have sleepovers with Jisoo. But you’d have thought he’d have forgotten all about that by now.

Jisoo didn’t even remember this as you’d both grown over the years, the obsession of teenagers mellowing out. Unicorns remained your favourite magical creature, but you didn’t hold that deep passion that you did back then. The fact that Hoseok had remembered stunned you into silence for a moment though, causing you to frown down at the foal.

“Yeah...yeah, they are. I...I mean...thank you. For remembering and showing me this, this is amazing. I’ll never forget this, Hoseok.” You’re not entirely sure how to thank him properly, because you don’t know of anyone else who could show you a unicorn like this.

Before you can say anything else or Hoseok can respond, you’re both distracted by the way the foal lets out a squeal and butts his head into you lightly before jumping away. Taken aback, you watch him for a moment for he does it again, his impossibly slim legs wobbling slightly as he trips on a rock.

“He wants you to play,” Hoseok says softly, smiling as he watches you both. Glancing to him, you raise a brow before grinning back at the baby unicorn. Tilting your head at him, you purse your lips before jumping forward and raising your hands in claw motions. Almost immediately, the foal leaps forward before darting back to you and you giggle, already planning your next move.

Yeah, okay, you might be thirty-three years old...but you were going to play with the baby unicorn.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Soulmate au! Countdown - Harry Hook x Reader -oneshot

soulmate au idea sent in by Anonymous 

=

Everyone in the world was born with a watch, not on their wrists or anywhere attached to them, just a simple watch that would appear when a new soul was born into the world. Doctors would blink, and suddenly, next to the new babe, was a watch.

A watch that had a set date of years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds until the new soul would meet their soulmate, the one destined to love them forever.

Some watches were simple ones, a simple leather band with a plain clock attached to go around their wrist. Some got more…exotic clocks, one person, whose soulmate was an astrologist, watch had planets instead of hands to tell the time.(luckily for the person, who didn’t know how to read the time by looking at planets, there was still a small digital timer in the middle just above the sun) some had intricately carved pocket watches, some had sundials.

Prince Ben’s watch had confused some people, being a pure gold and silver watch, rusted slightly (and unable to be buffed to perfection as so many tried) with a horned dragon decorating the top, the back engraved with thorned vines. It wasn’t till years later, as Ben locked eyes with Mal, the daughter of Maleficent, did the watches ticking stop (small A/N; Ben and Audrey don’t date since they know they aren’t meant to be already. Okay let's get back into it!)

Audrey’s watch hung off a silver necklace, the top cover being diamond-like glass that seemed to shine like magic. Her watch had stopped when she met Chad at only six months old, his rose gold wristwatch stopping at the same time.

Doug's watch, a gorgeous gold-plated pocket watch decorated with heart-shaped red rubies, had stopped when he first locked eyes with Evie, daughter of the Evil Queen, who for a small while had denied that her own watch had stopped ticking, and had only admitted it after she and her friends had proclaimed their decision to turn their backs on their parent's evil ways.

Most people your age had met their soulmate already, you knew some who had yet to meet theirs but mostly everyone had already been found.

Not that you personally knew that.

You hardly talked to anyone really, so how were you to know if someone had found their soulmate yet or not.

You were just a regular person in a school of the descendants of heroes and royalty, a loner at that. The only interesting about you was your watch.

It was a gorgeous gold watch with thin black paint under the gold curved detailing that looked like waves, surrounding the outer rim of the cover, with an anchor and a ship's steering wheel in the middle of the cover, the back was a carved compass, the entire thing connected to a strong bronze chain.

You admired it every day, excitement and anxiety running through you as every second passed. And those feelings were amplified recently.

The clock now read seven days, seven hours, eight minutes, and forty seconds. It was only that until you met your soulmate.

You only hoped they wouldn’t think you weren’t worth their time…as everyone else did.

-

Harry had been born with a pretty plain-looking pocket watch, smooth and silver metal protecting the gears.

You could imagine the surprise he felt when he finally opened it for the first time. The inner works of his watch were beautiful, the silver metal had turned to gold, curving details surrounded the hands and timer, a shining scale texture covered the inside of the cover, never leaving a residue on his finger when he traced it.

Many villain kids were told to never open their watches, being told that it was pointless to even look since they would never need their soulmate in the first place.

Some obeyed, some, like Harry, had gotten too curious and looked anyway, and some just looked because they could.

And Harry couldn't say he regretted looking, every day he grabbed his watch and popped it open, smiling as the ticking hands signified the ever-coming day of meeting his soulmate.

Like now, it read seven days, five hours, three minutes, and seven seconds. Coincidently, it matched the same day he would be going to Auradon prep, seven months after king Ben had invited the original four to Auradon.

His closest friend, Uma, had a plan to get the wand and do what the original four couldn’t. but Harry had another plan.

He wanted to meet his soulmate, he knew they couldn’t have been on the isle, he had met basically everyone on the isle, there was no other explanation than for his soulmate to be in Auradon.

He looked up from his watch to gaze at the bright lights of Auradon, his breath visible as he let out a sigh and leaned against the rails of the lost revenge. “you ready for next week?” he suppressed a flinch as Uma suddenly appeared next to him, joining him to look at  Auradon.

“aye” he simply muttered back, clenching his pocket watch in his hand. He looked away slightly as Uma turned towards him, her brow quirked.

“…you want to find them, don’t you?” Uma asked, turning back to Auradon and resting her chin in her hand.

Harry stayed silent.

Uma reached out and squeezed Harry's shoulder “I won't stop you from doing that, I know our parents told us that soulmates are bullshit but I could give less of a fuck, if you decide not to go through with everything because of them, I’ll leave you two alone…” Harry sighed in slight relief and turned to Uma.

“even if it would ruin yer plans?” Harry asked softly, laughing as Uma grumbled a bit.

“yeah yeah…if you’re happy im happy” Harry tossed his arm over Uma’s shoulder and pulled her into his side, grinning as she quietly complained at the hug.

“Thank yeh Uma” he whispered, closing his eyes as Uma sighed against him and hugged him back.

“you’re my best friend Harry, I would do anything for you” Harry smiled against her hair, squeezing her shoulder a bit before letting her go as she started to bat at his chest “Alright alright that’s enough, come on we got night shit to do” Harry snorted and shook his head a bit, grabbing his hat from the milk crate next to him and flipping it on, whistling slightly as he followed Uma off the ship.

-

You looked up from your summer history essay as a group of girls rushed up to the window, giggling to themselves as they pointed out whatever it was they were talking about.

‘oh right’ you mentally sighed, closing your book and packing it away, knowing that the study hall you were in was going to be filled with the laughter of these girls for who knows how long ‘the new vks’

You spared a glance back at the girls, sighing wistfully to yourself as they smiled amongst each other.

What you would give to have friends like that, but you had always been closed in on yourself and always froze up when someone tried to talk to you, that you had never gotten the chance to make friends.

You shrugged your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the study hall “where to go now” you whispered to yourself, taking out your pocket watch and smiling slightly at it, rubbing your thumb against the wheel before popping it open.

Six hours, forty-five minutes, and seven seconds.

You would meet your soulmate today.

You closed the watch and held it against your chest, letting out a giggly sigh and walking towards the other end of the dorms to get to the other study hall so you would write your essay in peace.

Behind you, you heard king Ben talking, taking a glance back you saw a flash of a scarlet red coat pass by the entrance to the hallway you had just entered. You brushed it off and looked back in front of you.

-

One and a half hours, ten minutes, and forty seconds.

Harry stared anxiously at his watch, his foot tapping rapidly against the floor of his new room. “you know if you just sit and stare at that thing it's not going to go any faster” Gil offered, setting his new laptop down and sitting next to Harry, reaching out to close the watch.

Harry blinked back into reality, pouting at Gil slightly. Gil just gave him a look and pushed the watch towards Harry's chest “sitting in here won't help you find them either, go explore or something, you might find them easier” Harry huffed and grabbed his watch, sticking it in his pocket and walking out of the room “you’ll thank me later!”

-

You groaned a bit as you rolled your shoulders, you had finished your essay, along with a handful of other projects, and had decided you needed a break. So it was off to your “secret” spot near the dorms, it was well hidden by the forest and you had to cross a hanging bridge to get to it so hardly anyone knew about it.

You shrugged off your top and pants, kicking off your shoes and setting everything next to your towel and watch before diving in.

Underneath the water your body shimmered, your legs turning to a transitioning (f/c) and (f/c) tail with a strong fabric-like tail, scales the same color as your tail appeared next to your eyes and trailed down your cheeks, your shoulders being covered as well.

You let out a soft sigh as you swam through the clear water, trailing your fingers across the smooth rocks that lay at the bottom of the lake.

You picked up a particularly shiny clear and black one, swimming back up to the surface and examining it, humming to yourself as you waded through the water.

-There once was a ship that put to sea/ And the name of that ship was the Billy o' Tea/ The winds blew hard, her bow dipped down/ Blow my bully boys blow-

You started to sing one of your favorite sea shanties aloud, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift across the surface of the lake as your voice echoed around you.

- Soon may the Wellerman come/ To bring us sugar and tea and rum/ One day, when the tonguing' is done/ We'll take our leave and go-

-

Harry sighed quietly as he walked around the grounds of Auradon prep, tubbing his thumb against the smooth metal of his watch as the comforting -tick tock- of its gears rang in his ears.

He sighed again as he stopped in the middle of a pathway, running his hand through his messy hair. He pulled out the watch and quirked his brow.

three minutes, forty seconds.

Suddenly something caught his attention, he turned his head towards the forest, his lips separating as a lovely drifted towards him.

He started walking towards it, entering into the forest and pushing past the bushes that covered the main path. He quickly walked over the hanging bridge that led him directly to a sparkly crystal-clear lake.

And wading in the water of that lake was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen or heard.

- No line was cut, no whale was freed/ An' the captain's mind was not on greed/ But he belonged to the Whaleman's creed/ She took that ship in tow -

As he walked closer to the mermaid, he didn’t notice the timer on the watch tick down to the seconds.

3…2...1.

Suddenly the mermaid looked up from their rock and gasped, her glowing (e/c) eyes locking with his ocean blue.

The ticking stopped.

The mermaid squealed in embarrassment and ducked under the water, Harry quickly snapped out of his stupor and ran towards the edge of the lake, kneeling at it and looking around for the mermaid who had suddenly disappeared. “where did yeh go?” he whispered, yelping and falling back on his butt as the mermaid suddenly popped up in front of his face and tried to reach for her items behind Harry.

He watched her struggle to reach toward them before she groaned and flopped on the ground, her top half lying pitifully on the dry ground as her tail angrily hit the surface of the water.

Harry let out a soft chuckle and looked behind him, spotting a gold pocket watch resting just next to a (f/c) towel, he glanced back at the mermaid for a moment before reaching out for the watch and gently handing it to the mermaid.

She quickly popped it open and gasped.

Harry watched as the mermaid just stared at her watch, then slowly look up at him. He took out his watch and popped it open, stopping as he realized the clock had stopped.

00:00:00:00:00:00 blinked rapidly

Harry looked back at the mermaid and turned his watch towards her. She reached out slightly, looking at him for permission to take it.

He pushed it into her hand and she set it next to her watch, a smile growing on her face as the blinking of the timers synchronized perfectly. Only soulmate watches could sync perfectly as they did.

She looked back up at Harry with a wide grin, Harry's heart fluttering like crazy as she did.

“I found you” she whispered in the most melodic voice, squeaking a bit as Harry stood and started to strip out of his clothes “what are you doing?!” she yelled, pushing off the edge and diving down under the water a bit, only her eyes and the top of her head above the water.

“joinin’ yeh,” Harry responded simply, kicking off his shoes and pants and tossing them aside with his shirt, jacket, and belts.

Once he was down to just his underwear, he jumped into the water next to his soulmate, closing his eyes as he sank into the surprisingly deep lake.

Almost immediately after he jumped in, arms wrapped around his waist and kept him afloat. Harry cracked open his eyes to see the glowing ones of his soulmate, their pupils slanted as they stared back at him.

Harry let a smile grow on his lips as he and his soulmate floated under the water. Then Harry's body proceeded to realize he was underwater and that he needed air.

His soulmate watched him look up, realize what he was doing, and grabbed his face. Harry looked at them and let out a muffled squeak as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He snapped his eyes shut and felt his face burn with a blush as she licked his lips and opened his mouth, breathing into him.

She pulled back and giggled, which oddly wasn’t muffled. Harry opened one of his eyes and pouted slightly as his soulmate covered her mouth with one of her hands as she laughed at his expression.

He took a breath to say something, but then realized he was breathing underwater. He gave her a wide-eyed look and she giggled again.

“mermaid kisses can let the person breath and speak underwater” her voice purred, grabbing his hands and pulling him up to the surface. Harry shook his head, smirking as his soulmate squealed a bit as the water droplets hit her.

“I’m Harry” Harry spoke first, swimming slightly closer to his soulmate and pressing a soft kiss to her cheek “Harry Hook.”

“(y-y/n) (l/n)” she squeaked slightly, Harry smirking at the heat that burned against his lips as he pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“I think” he pulled back and pressed a kiss to her other cheek “you and I are going to get along very well~” he purred, grinning as (y/n) set her forehead against his.

“whys that?” she hummed, pushing her lips together as Harry tightly wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him.

“a pirate and a mermaid? What's a better match than tha’?”

-end-

Short but sweet, might do another one of the suggestions! Thanks for reading!

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@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

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@musicarose @remembered-license

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@rintheemolion​

[moralesispunk]

Better Than the Art

Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Summary: as you guided a school trip around the museum you were joined by a handsome stranger who just so happened to be an FBI agent working in art crime.

I was inspired for this when I found the photo below on Pintrest!

Thursdays are your favourite day to work at the museum and that is because on Thursdays the museum is open for school trips. 

It was a routine you had grown to love. You start your day walking a group of tiny humans around the exhibits from Renaissance to Baroque to Neoclassicism to Romanticism, winning them over just before moving them to the canteen. After lunch you let them run free around everything from surrealism to pop art, watching their faces react to the strange and wonderful works of art that line the room. By the end of the day they are lying on their stomachs in a room full of classics, legs kicking in the air while they draw their own piece of art to stick to the wall on the way out. As their teacher walks them towards their bus a little more interested in art than they had been before they walked in they yell a chorus of thank you and you get to pay attention to their small works of art in more detail. There are drawings of them and their friends, or their dog, or the occasional attempt at a recreation of one of the paintings they saw during their tour. It is a wonderful day, listening to them talk about the art in the most simple way rather than give a twenty minute, or pretentious, response to “how does this art make you feel”.

They say exactly how it makes them feel; happy, sad, excited, bored. It is refreshing to listen to what they have to say about the art that you get to look at every day.  

As you walked around with the group of 10-year olds today you noticed they were a lot quieter than your usual groups. You had spent most of your morning hearing your own voice and for once you were excited that lunch was coming up after this next room. You stopped at the first painting in the room and turned to the circle that had formed around you.

"How does this painting make you feel?"

The question echoed around the hall for a moment before a voice that was far too deep for a ten year old came from your side.

“Happy.”

You turned to the man, dressed in suit trousers and a shirt with a suit jacket folded across his arms. You were taken aback by how handsome this man was; his hair slightly messy and a few crinkles by his eyes from the small smile on his face.

“Look at the way their smiles are painted,” he stepped closer towards you so he was now in line with the group of children in front of you, “the way she paints a smile is just so... real. I feel as though I’m right there, dancing with all those people. I can feel their happiness.”

You couldn’t help the wide grin that was now covering your face at how enthusiastically this man spoke about the art on the wall or the warmth that was now creeping up your cheeks at how his eyes never once landed on the actual painting but stayed locked on you. 

“I agree,” you sighed contently, a moment passing where you almost forgot that you were in the middle of a busy museum guiding a school trip rather than standing alone with this stranger. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself and turning back to the children, “does anyone agree with Mr...”

“Pike. But please, Marcus.”

“Marcus,” you smiled at the man, “does anyone agree with Marcus.”

A sea of hands flew up as the quiet group finally began to speak about how they liked that the people were dancing in bare feet or that they could see them singing along to the band painted in the background. As the chatter continued you mouthed a thank you to Marcus and he shook his head with a smile.

“Let’s move on then,” you called out, stepping round the group to lead them to the next painting.

“Mind if I tag along, get the free guided tour?” Marcus walked next to you.

“Not at all,” you smiled back.

You guided the tour around the rest of the room, the children now more involved than they had been before Marcus joined you and were talking about their favourite parts of the art you were showing them. Marcus stood a few paces behind, listening carefully to your description for each painting or sculpture, biting back a smile when you got really excited as you spoke about your favourite part of the painting and your voice got that little bit louder while you spoke a little faster. 

At the end of the hall you walked into the canteen and the children’s teacher sat them all down at one of the tables, pulling out their lunchboxes as the loud chatter began.

“I’ll come back and collect you all in forty-five minutes?” you said to the teacher and she nodded before you turned back to Marcus.

He had waited for you at the edge of the room, half reading one of the information plaques next to a painting as he watched you walk towards him. You never were usually this forward with someone but he was handsome and you were intrigued.

“I know this might be a strange request but do you want to get lunch with me?” you asked when you finally reached him, clasping your hands in front of you to stop yourself from fidgeting.

“I would love to,” Marcus held his hand out towards the exit, “lead the way.”  

There was a cafe next to the museum that you liked to frequent on your lunch breaks and you decided to take Marcus there, telling him that they sold the best sandwiches you had ever had on the walk over.

“Its the ratio!” you laughed when Marcus asked how the sandwich could be that good, “the bread to sauce to contents, its a perfect balance.”

Marcus threw this head back in a laugh before speeding up to reach for the door before you could. When you stepped inside you were glad that it was quieter than usual today, leading Marcus towards a table in the corner beside the window. A waitress you recognised walked over towards the table and you ordered two sandwiches before she headed into the back.

“I hope you like the sandwich after I hyped it up so much,” you laughed.

“You seem like you have good taste so I trust you,” he flashed you a smile and you could feel your cheeks warm before you cleared your throat.

“So, are you from around here?”

Marcus shook his head, taking a drink of the coffee that had been placed in front of him.

“I moved from Dallas a couple of months ago but things had been so hectic with work that this is the first chance I have got to check out the sights, the museums.”

You hummed, letting the cup of coffee warm your hands before taking a sip.

“What kind of work do you do?”

“FBI. Art crimes,” he replied plainly.

“Oh, wow,” you laughed, “well Agent Pike, busy with all the undercover work since you arrived then?”

“Yes actually,” your eyes went wide in time for the sandwiches being placed in front of you and Marcus laughed, “it’s not as exciting as it sounds.”

“I doubt that. Anyway, Bon Appétit.”

The both of you went quiet as you bit into the sandwiches, Marcus letting out a groan that almost made your cheeks flush before he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“This is... the best sandwich I’ve ever had. You sure didn’t lie about that.”

“Told you!”

“You’ve got a little,” Marcus waved towards the side of your mouth before lifting his thumb to the side of your mouth and swiping some sauce away, “got it.”

“Oh, thank you,” you dipped your head down to hide your blush, hearing Marcus chuckle a little as you did so.

Lunch went by quickly, the conversation never stopping between you both as you told him why you moved to DC and more about your friends and family. He told you about his move here, slightly divulging into a failed engagement that made the smile fall from his face and so you quickly changed the subject. 

Laughing at something he said your eyes caught the clock on the wall.

“Oh shoot, I need to head back,” you pulled your purse from your bag and Marcus leaned across the table to stop you with a palm on top of your hand.

“Please, let me,” he pulled out his wallet to leave some money for the check and a tip.

“Marcus, I-”

“No buts, my treat,” he smiled.

“Thank you, Marcus. How about I let you join in for the second half of the tour then, if you’re not busy?”

“I’d love that.”

By the time you and Marcus reached the canteen the children were all ready to go and so you took off in the direction of this afternoons exhibits. The children were a lot more enthused with this art; the bright colours and wacky subject matter setting a chatter among them that didn’t stop until the end of the day.

Every so often you would look up to Marcus who was focused on what you were saying and he would flash you a smile. There wasn’t a time that when he smiled that gorgeous smile you didn’t lose track of what you were saying and had to shake yourself to get back to the tour.

When you reached the final room, filled with the most famous pieces of art that the museum held, you gathered the children in the middle of the room. 

“Now, I want to see your art,” you pulled out the paper and pencils, handing them to each child sitting on the ground, “you can draw yourself or you friends, or a landscape piece...”

You headed towards Marcus who was now sitting on a bench a bit further back from the group.

“Can maybe even attempt drawing a piece of the art,” you handed a piece of paper to Marcus as well and gave him a wink before turning back to the children, “whatever you want.”

You let them draw for fifteen minutes, walking around quietly as you watched their art come to life. Every so often you would glance over to Marcus who was now sitting with one leg over the other as he leaned on one of the gift shop tour guides. His face was set in stone, his tongue peeking out slightly whenever he sat back to look at what he was drawing before leaning back down to finish it.

“Alright, I think everyone is about done. On the way out there is a wall of art and I want you to stick yours up there so add your name at the bottom.”

When the group of children were finally herded together by their teacher, their art pinned on the wall and a cheer of small thank yous shouted in your direction, you finally turned back to Marcus.

“I drew something better than the art,” he handed you a piece of paper.

When you looked down at the paper there was a shaded in drawing of yourself. It was... beautiful. You smiled down at the paper, your finger tracing over it for a moment.

“Today was the best day I’ve had since... since I can remember and I would love to get to know you more,” Marcus’s voice brought your attention back up to him.

“Marcus, this is- I- thank you,” you finally managed, holding the paper to your chest, “I would love to see you again.”

“I don’t really know the area that well but theres a nice Italian near my place if you like that sort of food?”

“Sounds perfect,” you nodded, turning around and grabbing a spare bit of paper to scribble down your phone number, “call me?”

Marcus nodded, folding the note and placing it in his trouser pocket. You decided to lean into the new-found courage you had gathered today, leaning forward while balancing yourself on Marcus’s arm and placing a kiss to his cheek.

“See you soon, Marcus.”

//

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