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cr0wbonezz-wr1ting-inc · 3 years

Text

One more time

Summary: Alex regrets ever saying yes. All he wants is a second chance.

Trigger warning: Mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, swearing, angst

Author's note: my first piece off hiatus !! - you're a twitch streamer in this fic but it won't come up too much :) hope u like it <3

Based on: Break My Heart Again - FINNEAS

you sigh. your ex-boyfriend called again. you've been ignoring your phone for 5 minutes now. was he really this desperate?

you pick up your phone and slide the green button.

"what do you want, alex?"

"___, you picked up!"

he sounded extremely relieved, like he needs you to breathe.

"i did, now what do you want?"

alex sighed and leaned on a wall in his bedroom.

"can i come over? there's some stuff i still need to pick up."

you suck in a breath sharply. the air is thick and tense.

"no."

you clench the phone you were holding and bit your lip.

"i don't want to see you right now."

alex closed his eyes and pushed himself off the wall.

"i understand, you need time."

there was silence for a moment. neither of you wanted to say anything.

"if you want to come over that bad you can get your things tomorrow morning."

"sounds good. i'll be there around 11, okay?"

"fine."

"good-"

you ended the call.

"-bye..."

alex let his arm drop beside him. his eyes were watering, but he wiped it away with the sleeve of his hoodie.

it's his fault, he knew. but why is he still so upset? he shouldn't feel like this - it's is his own doing, after all.

you open the door to your home. alex was standing on the porch with a few empty bags in hand. the morning sun blinded you slightly, making you squint at the man in front of you.

"hi ___."

"hello, alex. all your belongings are on the couch.

"great, thank you."

he looks over as he's folding a shirt.

"what are you looking at?"

you say without looking away from your laptop.

his face was getting red slightly from embarrassment.

"nothing, you seem busy."

alex directed his eyes back to the clothes in front of him.

"otherwise you would've said something about me."

alex snickered slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

you sigh, holding your face in one of your hands.

don't say it. ___, keep it in. there's no point in fighting him. ___-

"if i wanted to make a comment it'd be about the fact you can't keep your dick in your pants."

god damn it, why did you do that?

he fell quiet. you hated his guts, but even you felt kind of bad for being so blunt with it.

a part of you still loved him. his loud, yet charming laugh. his sweet kisses. his adorable clinginess. his blushing face when you teased him.

you shake your head, trying to physically get rid of your pity for him. he doesn't love you anymore. he shouldn't, and neither should you.

after filling the bags with alex's belongings he stood up and wiped his forehead. you waver from your work and look him up and down.

"you done?"

you asked him. he turned around and gave you a weak smile.

"yeah, i think so."

"good, you know the way out."

you turn back to your computer.

"___, wait. can i ask you something?"

you make eye contact with him, fully aware it makes him nervous.

"what do you want?"

alex took a quick breath.

"can we talk sometime?"

you look at him like he spoke an alien tongue.

"why the hell would i?"

"i want to talk about what happened between us. i hate that our relationship is so sour."

he set a step forward.

"i just want this to end peaceful - or at least neutral."

"why the fuck would i want to be peaceful with you of all people?"

"i hate ending things on the wrong foot, you know that."

alex stands his ground, making you livid.

"then we make up, and then what? you'll just break my heart again!"

you stand up, simultaneously pushing the chair away with your legs.

"then i can lay awake and think about why i even let you inside my house again in the first place?!"

if looks could kill, alex would be on the floor.

"fine. if you don't want to, then i guess everything will just stay the way it is."

alex turned around and grabbed his bags. there's no way he's getting through to you right now.

"oh, so now it's my fault?"

you slam your laptop and walk away from the table.

"well, i'm so sorry for being angry at you for cheating on me!"

you don't hold your anger in anymore, he crossed the line.

"i never said that, ___!"

alex yelled to match your energy.

you took a step back. the audacity to yell at you in your house.

"out. now."

alex grabbed the second bag of clothes and without a word walked to the front door.

"goodbye, ___."

alex pushes the door open and steps outside. you go after him but stop at the doorstep.

"fuck you!" you sob out. you grab the doorknob and slam the door shut.

your knees slowly got weaker and you sit against the front door, shutting your eyes.

it's been a month since you've seen alex. you've blocked him on everything since then.

you were doing a q&a on your twitch channel and everything was going well. chat was filled with questions and you answered the one's you could.

your thoughts were somewhere else, though.

you still miss him, you really did. alex used to watch your streams all the time. he sent you donations with cheesy pick-up lines, he called you during streams to make fun of you for dying in a game or just to chat while he's bored.

but that didn't happen anymore.

you realize you haven't said anything in a while and you apologize. your chat was spamming purple hearts and 'are you okay?'

"ah, sorry everyone, i'm still tired from yesterday. i think i'm going to end the stream for today, thank you all for coming!"

after saying goodbye you turn off your computer.

why are you still so obsessed over him?! he cheated on you! he even tried to cover it up with a bullshit story about "not being the first to kiss her," and "she forced me to," like someone would believe a lie like that.

yet, you still love him. something inside you wants to believe him, like he really was telling the truth.

the next morning you open twitter and scroll for a bit. you made a tweet earlier in which you stated you weren't going to stream today.

you looked at the trending topics and saw your name in bold letters. you clicked on it and read the first tweet that popped up.

'i really hope ___ is doing better, they looked so sad on stream :('

an image was attached to it - a screenshot from the stream you did yesterday where you were mindlessly staring at your computer screen.

you sighed. at least they're not thinking too deep about this.

you scroll further down, replying and liking a couple tweets saying you were alright, thanking them or cracking a joke. this should keep them off your back for a while.

after scrolling for a bit one tweet catches your eye. you clutch your phone as you read the comment.

'kinda obvious they miss quackity :/ it's a good cover-up story tho '

alex was staring at his ceiling. he'd seen the tweets about you - about him.

he hates this feeling. he hates the fact that he knows what you're thinking. he hates that he knows it's his fault. he didn't mean to. he didn't.

"come on, alex. you know you want it." the woman said.

"i told you, no! i have a partner!" alex pushed her away for the second time, trying to find a way past the girl and out of this small alleyway. he should've never gone to this stupid bar.

"tch, whatever. but know you'll regret rejecting someone like me!" the girl pushed him to the brick wall and fixed her dress as she walked away.

alex fixed himself for a minute and walked past the bar and into his car. he pulled out his phone and shot you a quick text.

'hey bb i'll be over in a few :)'

'don't come back.'

you responded almost immediately. alex froze as he looked at the screen.

'wdym?'

'you know damn well why'

you sent him a photo of him next to the bar in the alley. the girl was all over him while her lips connected lustfully to his.

'it isn't what it looks like, i didn't start any of this!'

you don't respond. alex tries to send you another text when an error pops up.

'unable to send message. user has blocked you.'

you hover your hand over your phone's keyboard. you thought anbout alex's offer to talk, and decided that maybe it was a good idea after all. you couldn't get your mind off him, you thought that hopefully getting some closure could help.

but how were you going to ask him? 'hey, i know i blocked number like a month ago but can you to meet me at some random park? see you there!'

after typing and deleting multiple texts you eventually landed on a message.

'hey alex, i've been thinking about your offer to talk it out, and i wanted to ask if you're still up for it?'

you send it and immediately turn off your phone and place it on the coffeetable in front of you. you did it, finally. you fall back on your couch and pull your knees up to your face, waiting for a notification.

after a nailbiting five minutes a light emits from your phone. you pick it up and read the name calling you. 'alex'. you take a deep breath and answer the phone.

"hi alex."

"hey ___, it's been a while."

you sit up straight, preparing yourself for the conversation you're about to have.

'yeah, you can say that."

the atmosphere was a lot less tense than you expected. it was weirdly... comforting? you can hear alex's raspy voice through the phone. has he been crying?

"i saw your text, you wanted to meet?"

"yes, i did. i wanted to get some closure, at least."

alex chuckled, his laugh making you a little flustered. trying to brush it off, you laugh with him.

"what's so funny?" alex asked.

you rolled your eyes and smile.

"you, dumbass."

he gasps cartoonishly loud. his goofy personality is something you could never get enough of. maybe you were wrong after all.

"ok, but seriously, when do you want to meet?"

he gets back on topic. you snap out of your smile and remember why he called in the first place.

"right, right. i'm free this whole week, you can choose when."

after some planning and back and forth, you decide to meet at a small family-run café in the afternoon. coincidentally, it's the same place you two had your first date.

you settle down at a table on the terrace of the café, the sunday sun greeting you warmly. you were a little early, so you decided to think of some questions. it didn't take you long to come to a few, though. your main question was the photo. what was that all about?

as you were handed a menu you saw alex walking on the pavement fidgeting with his fingers.

"hey! sorry if i'm late, i took the bus instead of my car."

he took the seat parallel to yours and exhaled.

"oh no, you're right on time. i was just a little early."

the waitress gave alex a menu and disappeared into the establishment. you both decided to stay quiet before getting on topic. neither of you want to start the conversation.

after both ordering and having surface level conversation for a while silence fell. you both know why you're here, it feels off to talk like nothing ever happened.

"okay-"

"so-"

you both start at the same time. alex awkwardly chuckles while covering his mouth.

"you first."

alex proposes. you nod and like magic lose the somewhat content mood you had prior. you steadily breathe in and pull out your phone.

"so, first things first; my main goal is to get closure and an explanation - there's no point in lying to me."

alex hums in agreement. you could tell he was nervous, you knew him better than anyone. you tap on your screen a few times until you reach the photo that was sent to you.

"now, i want a clear answer. what happened that night?"

you ask him firmly as you put your phone on the table to reveal the image.

"that's my ex-girlfriend."

alex said. you raise an eyebrow - his ex? you've heard some wild things about her and her antics, which is exactly why alex broke up with her in the first place.

"she said she wanted to ask me something in private. my dumbass said yes, because i can't pick up on context clues, apparently."

you cross your arms and lean back on the chair.

"you got that right."

alex looks up from the photo and makes eye contact with you.

"long story short, she pushed me to the wall and kissed me. i tried to push her off but she didn't let me go. after shoving her, like, twice she finally got the hint and left."

"so she set you up?"

"she hasn't changed a bit since all those years."

you say with a hint of condescension. his explanation made sense, and from what you heard he wasn't lying. your gut told you to believe him, yet your mind had an itching feeling that there was something else.

"are you sure that's all?"

alex flinched slightly.

"y-yes, ___. i don't know what else to tell you."

you mess with your hair a bit, clearly conflicted. there was nothing else, you knew that. but your brain wouldn't let it go. you decided it's better if you just sleep on it.

"alright, then.-"

you grab your bag and stand up.

"-i think we're done here."

alex stays seated and looks up at you.

"yeah, i think so."

you pick the phone up that's laying on the table. you pull out your wallet and put a $5 bill under your teacup.

"goodbye, alex."

"wait!"

alex stands up and grabs your wrist, the gesture scaring you little bit.

"are you still mad at me?"

those eyes. they're so pretty, almost sparlking. you snap out of it when he lets go, just realizing how weird it is to grab someone's arm out of nowhere.

"sorry, my bad. i wasn't thinking."

alex scratches the back of his neck.

"i'm still deciding if i can trust you, but i appreciate you showing up, at least."

"that's enough for me."

alex smile at you, not trying to pry.

"goodbye, ___."

"goodbye, alex."

you heard the chirping of the birds outside your window and groan. why is it already morning? you sit up and grab your phone from the nightstand next to your bed, the phone reading 11:23 - tuesday - xx-xx-xxxx.

you sigh and fall back onto your bed. you've been thinking about alex for a few days now, still not getting him out of your head.

after going downstairs and eating some toast you pull out your phone again, the clock now reading 12:44. you look through your contacts and eventually land on his name.

you hover your hand over the green pixels while sitting down at the dining table. you swallow audibly and click the call button.

it goes once.

it goes twice.

"___?"

'Hey alex, i wanted to ask you if you wanted to meet up again?"

ty for reading <3

m.list

taglist: @adoring-ghost @sakisaralazy @for-memories-sacrifice @ialexabsuniverse @shiyanchan @bioluminescentfrog @esylwen

reblogs >> likes !

#cr0wbonezz-wr1ting-inc #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #quackity x reader #dream smp angst #mcyt angst #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #dream smp x you #dream smp x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x y/n #quackity angst #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt fanfiction #quackity fanfic

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alister312 · 3 years

Note

4, 12, 13, and 14!

:O an ask………… thank u for letting me have a proper opportunity to gush………

4: Do you have a favorite South Park creator in the fandom (artist, writer, cosplayer, etc.)? If so, who?

Okay as someone who has only ever existed on tumblr, ff dot net, and YouTube as a SP fan, I do not know if there’s any super cool people on places like insta or twitter (or even ao3 really except for saturnpanther). HOWEVER. My absolute beloved author is petroica traversi on ff dot net because her Gregstophe content is!! SO GOOD!! And that was my second ever South Park ship and I fell very hard for them. I also remember enjoying fallingwithstyle and angel-of-gryffindor, and ofc hollycomb is a classic.

Speaking of classics, in terms of art, I think we as a community owe our life to preoprix. They have so much incredible work out there and I was thrilled to see that south-park-fanart-archive is reblogging so much of it right now. I don’t remember a ton of other old artists I liked during my initial phase… there was someone who’s signature was like “LZ” and I liked their art a lot? And I’d be lying if I said the zombie apocalypse AU fic I used to have wasn’t inspired by tuckerenthusiast’s Craig of the Dead designs. As for current artists, almost literally everyone I see is so talented. Buuuuuut I’m especially enjoying content from miraco, ameangel-sp, chaaistheanswer, bunypark, sn33z3s, stankyles, meuhhjelly, cheesym0rgue, fuzzylampnecklawyer, and emilyartstudio-s!! There’s definitely others I’ve seen and spam reblogged but like. If I just name dropped every single SP artist that would be a bit much imo. But all those above people are producing art that I'm in love with the styles of who I always reblog stuff from if I see it.

As for YouTube there’s literally just one person but they were integral to my first SP brainrot so shoutout to Mihoshiii. Also this video, living rent free.

12: Who’s the first character that caught your eye when you first watched the show? Or: Who was your first favorite character?

This is very hard because I had an unconventional introduction into SP. When I was younger I was really into Let’s Players and I watched one of them do a LP of The Stick of Truth, which made me want to watch the show. So I was just generally pumped for all the characters as soon as I started watching? I will say, I have a vivid memory of searching “South Park” on google images to find fan art. One of the suggested search results was “South Park Yaoi” and I thought that was funny as hell so I clicked it. Very first image was Kenny leaning out of a bus and kissing Butters and I haven’t known peace since.

13: Do you have a favorite minor character? Who?

OH BOY DO I

Back in 2017 when I was much more active on Cartoon Amino, I literally made a bunch of South Park Top 10 lists, one of which was about minor characters. Christophe was my number one, partially because I was edgy and partially because I was correct. He makes such an impact with such little screen time and I would have LOVED to see more of him. Which is why I write so much fanfic involving him, I think. However, as I’ve gotten older, I’m less sure about giving him the number one spot. I think he’s tied with Gregory?

I do have so so much love and so many thoughts about both Gregory and Christophe, it’s hard to choose which one I love more! I’ve found that I’m much more able to get into Gregory’s headspace when writing though because we have (conceptually in my head) more similar upbringings. But maybe I like getting into his headspace because I like using him as a way to study my thoughts on Christophe. The two are honestly so much a part of one another to me, I don’t know how to separate them.

Besides them, though, I’m in love with Kevin Stoley, the Goth kids, and Corey Lanskin. Every time I think about them I’m ☺️😊

14: Do you have a favorite female character? Who?

For sure Bebe. I also think that Karen is such a sweetheart and Nichole deserves so much more and my fanon interpretation of Red is the best buuuuut Bebe is best girl. I almost cried during the vaccine special when she FINALLY got a line after so long without one.

I just think it’s funny that much of fanon (at least, old fanon) reduced her down to “dumb girly blonde stereotype” when she is so much more than that. So it always makes me very happy to see her being used in any other way. Or when she’s used at all, which is oddly rare considering she, at one point, was the only girl besides Wendy listed among SP characters on the Wikipedia page. I want to see her hold a gun again. She deserves it.

#uh oh this answer got reeeeaalllyyy long haha anyways..........#i just have Thoughts and Feelings on sp and if given the chance i Will Speak #south park #ask

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yongtxt · 5 years

Text

hundred [johnny]

word count: 4.5k words

characters: boxer!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: blood/wound/stitches mentions, johnny hates hospitals but he likes the pretty doctor, [im not a doctor nor a boxer pls dont say that i have info wrong because I Know]

author’s note: i know this isnt long to some of u but to me it is and i havent written this much for so long im so proud of myself for finishing this:( it isnt that good but this is the first long fic ive written in a while and shhsdjk also i needed to get this out of my system ive thought about this au since that jcc came out where johnny and hyuck was doing muay thai plssss (i couldnt find a better gif tho) ok this is getting too long / feedback is appreciated tysm

Johnny Suh hated hospitals with a burning passion.

It wasn't from a past trauma nor was he afraid of it, it wasn't that serious. He wasn't exactly sure what the cause of it really was. If he had to make a guess, it was probably from the accumulation of the little things, the insignificant factors people would usually dismiss but bothered him enough that it contributed to the big hatred he built for hospitals.

Maybe it was the distinct smell of hospitals, it reeked of death and old people. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the fluorescent-lit hallways, always gloomy and heavy. Maybe it was also the fact that the fees were so expensive and yet the food they provide tasted horrible, even the coffee was a hit or miss. The only upside he could think of was people get better in hospitals, but even that wasn't assured.

Despite how much Johnny despised hospitals, he always finds himself coming back. If he wanted to get better, he had no choice but to go. He would endure the gruesome process over and over again whether it be to treat his wounds or to stitch his cuts.

With his jaw littered with small bruises and his lips busted at the corner, he sat impatiently on the hospital bed as he waited for his doctor. He was fiddling with his fingers, knuckles bruised the same way his face was. He looked beaten up, he always did.

The clothes he wore contradicted the state he was in, they were fresh and laid back. He looked like a college student from the way he dressed. A delinquent more like, if one considered his cuts and bruises. Before heading to the hospital, he always makes it a point to shower and make himself appear presentable to the public. Although no one really bothers to take notice of his effort, only him.

The sliding door opened and Johnny's attention shot up from his phone, his gaze meeting with yours. Your head popped in, peaking through the small crack you made. Your eyes lit up in recognition as it always did whenever you see him.

"Youngho-ssi?" You spoke almost as if it was a question, voice barely above a whisper to make sure you were in the correct room, about to tend the correct patient.

Johnny didn't understand why you always did that, call out his name as if this was the first time you were seeing him. At that point, you've been already acquainted with him enough due to his numerous trips to the hospital. Either way, he nods every time.

You gave him a small smile, widening the door enough so you could enter. You wore a white lab coat, a name tag pinned to your chest and a stethoscope hung around your neck. You were small, although anyone compared to him was bound to be comparatively smaller – that wasn't the point, you looked young and that never fails to astound him every time you go through the door.

You had a clipboard in your hands, scanning through what he assumed to be his condition that a nurse had written earlier after a quick checkup and disinfection of his open wound. Your lips were formed on a tight line, eyebrows furrowed. He continued to stare at you with such amusement.

"You don't have to answer my question, Youngho-ssi, but why are you always here?" You finally broke the silence, startling him in the slightest. You never bothered to ask before, always just offering smiles and small talks while you did your work; maybe his sudden regularity of coming to the hospital recently made your curiosity peaked.

He couldn't blame you. Anybody would be curious why a 24-year-old man keeps coming back to the hospital with no clear explanation.

He cleared his suddenly dry throat, he never liked saying his job. He said, "I box for a living."

"Ah, that makes sense!" Your eyes visibly glimmered, absentmindedly jotting down notes on his medical records. "My coworkers and I thought you were in a gang or something."

"I don't think I would be allowed to be here if I was." He chuckled, making you giggle as well.

"Seo Youngho, 24, minor lip laceration in need of immediate suture." You read of his data from the clipboard, almost comically. It was medical terms he was unfortunately already too familiar with, to him, it basically meant that he had a busted lip that needs to be sewed shut.

"You can just call me Johnny. Youngho sounds too formal to me." He said nonchalantly. You nodded your head to his simple request; it probably was best if you got to know him better since he frequented the hospital so much.

"Alright, Johnny. We'll start the process now, okay?"

With keen eyes, he watched you slip on a pair of surgical gloves. You grabbed a tissue from the metal tray that sat beside him and began folding it into squares. He felt his heartbeat quicken, he hated getting stitches or any form of medical treatments for that matter, but as morbid as it was, he thought of it as punishment for his recklessness in the ring.

"Isn't boxing just, I don't know, senseless violence?" You asked, tone dripping with pure innocence and unadulterated interest as you gently dabbed away the remaining dried blood the nurse failed to clean earlier.

"It's a sport, it's how I bring money to the table." He pursed his lips, ignoring the twinge of pain that surged through his nerves. He visibly relaxed when you placed a hand onto his shoulder to reassure him.

Ever since the first time you got assigned to him, the first thing he took note of was the softness of your hands. You handled him as if he was fragile glass, despite how he easily towered over you. He felt pathetic as a 24-year-old but your gentle touches would greatly help put him at ease.

"I guess. I didn't mean to be rude." You were hesitant, Johnny could tell but he was glad you didn't push on any further. He couldn't handle explaining his occupation when you were about to pierce his skin. "Okay, Johnny, now that your lip is clean and the anesthesia had seeped in, we'll start. I think you know how it goes by now."

"Make it quick, please." He nodded, squinting his eyes shut at the mere contact of a surgical pen grazing over his gaped lips. You were relieved that his cut wasn't too big, you couldn't stomach the idea of putting him in too much pain for longer.

As you picked up the tweezers and string of nylon, you couldn't help but laugh at the six-foot boxer in front of you who was clearly petrified of getting stitches, "This will be done as soon as you know it. You won't really feel it because of the anesthesia, remember? Now count to a hundred backward for me."

Once the numb feeling of nylon dragged through his lips, he swore he saw white spots flicker in his vision. His eyes immediately watered and he tried his best not to squirm under your hold, beginning to count to a hundred backward like you had instructed him to. You admitted it to him the first time you stitched him that it was a trick that you learned from your pediatrician friend. Despite it being for children, it helped to get him distracted while you focused on your job.

Minutes felt like hours, Johnny had been fighting the urge to punch something, anything, to release tension and nerves. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took a peak and tried to take his attention away from what was currently happening on his lip. His gaze landed on your pretty eyes, how it was narrowed in focus and how your lashes perfectly framed it.

This wasn't the first time he'd observe you up close, there had been many occasions in the past that you had been too close for comfort in order to tend his wounds. It had been too many that it was almost as if he was close to memorizing your features. You were not only beautiful but you were also a smart and capable doctor.

Eventually, you finished and started to rub ointment on his sore lip — the finishing line.

"Try not to eat anything spicy or hard. You know the drill." You grinned at his suddenly pale features, ripping off your gloves as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the room. "You're good to go. Be careful next time."

He let out a shaky breath, clearly still winded up from the procedure, "I'll try. Thanks again, doc."

The punching bag felt great against Johnny's fists. There wasn't a feeling in the world that could compare to the impact of leather slamming against his skin. He could last hours mindlessly pummeling the bag if his stamina just allowed him to.

Hyunsik, Johnny's manager and personal trainer, drew away from the punching bag he held in between his arms. He let out a breath and held out a hand to motion that Johnny has done enough.

Johnny was hurting, Hyunsik could see that much. The bandages he had wrapped for the boxer's fingers were turning into a shade of red that they were all too familiar with.

Hyunsik clicked his tongue, "You should've used your gloves."

"How can I grow stronger if I keep relying on them?" Johnny rolled his eyes. His muscles needed a boost and this seemed to be the only logical way to strengthen them — a little blood never hurt anybody.

"Someday you're gonna fracture your hand and you'll be forced out of the ring. Remember that." Hyunsik huffed, his voice stern. "Take them off, I'll clean the blood off."

Johnny reluctantly did as told, unfurling the bandages wrapped around his fingers. The pain was excruciating when the fabric grazed along his tender skin, he winced at the unsightly view of his reopened wounds.

Hyunsik led him back outside of the ring to the benches where the first aid kit was. He made the boxer sit down so he could start cleaning off his wounds. It looked horrific, more so than it usually did and he had no choice but to break the news to Johnny.

"It looks really bad. You need to go get that checked in the hospital and have it sewed back." Hyunsik said, taking a wet towel and carefully dabbing it across Johnny's bloodied knuckles.

He didn't want to go to the hospital. Going to the hospital to have his wounds treated meant that Johnny would be medically required to take days off work to let his hand heal. Johnny frowned, "Don't you have an ointment or something that could help? I can't afford to lose a day of practice."

"Don't you think I know that?" Hyunsik rolled his eyes. "As your manager, I want you to be in top shape for your match next week, even if it means sacrificing a day or two for you to heal."

Johnny could only nod. He sat through Hyunsik's lecture on the changes he should make to his dietary plan and the exercises he should do during his temporary break. It infuriated him that he couldn't do anything about it but nod along.

The incoming match that was set next week would make or break his career as an underground boxer. He didn't have the option of missing it because of some measly reopened wounds. If he had to rest to get better, he had no choice but to suck it up. This was his fault anyway for pushing himself too much.

Johnny showered in the locker rooms and changed into nicer clothes that didn't reek of blood and sweat. His hands were stinging but he shook it off.

He ignored the concerned looks other boxers were giving him and begrudgingly made his way to the hospital to get himself checked in. You wouldn't be happy to see him all bloodied again, he thought.

Much to Johnny's surprise, it wasn't you who was assigned to him. It was a much older doctor with graying hair and a nose stuck too far up in the air. She was rude and condescending, her lack of politeness to her patients was quite appalling. If Johnny wasn't in such a bad mood, he might've complained already.

God, this day couldn't get any worse.

With a meek voice, Johnny asked where you were and at the mention of your name, his doctor gave him a narrowed look. She sneered, "She's handling much more important cases. Does she know you?"

"I think so." Johnny gulped, unsure of the answer himself.

The doctor's grip was tight and she was hasty. It was as if she was trying to speed through the process to just get it over with. Johnny wanted to cry because he was starting to get traumatized by this doctor's procedure, he didn't want to hate the hospital more than he already did.

He internally screamed for your name as he watched the doctor pull on the gloves. The sliding door harshly whipped open and there you were in all your glory, like an angel sent from above to save him from the devil incarnate who was about to pierce his skin.

You were panting and the sheen on your forehead made it obvious that you ran your way to his room. Johnny's heart leaped with glee.

"Unnie, I'll handle him." You said, unable to catch your breath as you made your way inside. "I think the ER needs you more than me."

The doctor seemed hesitant at first but you tried to convince her otherwise. She eventually agreed and left you with Johnny who had a cheesy smile on his face the entire time since you've arrived.

"So Johnny, what happened this time?" You asked, picking up the clipboard that sat next to him on the bed.

"I overdid the punching during training and it reopened some old wounds on my knuckles. It hurts like a bitch."

You pulled a face, "That's a bit intense."

He chuckled, "It's normal."

"Can I please see it?" You opened your palm so he could place his hand on yours. You observed his cuts and the scabs that were beginning to form around it, it was too deep to let it heal on its own so you made the verdict that he needed to get it sewed back together ⁠— as unfortunate as it was since he was a boxer and he needed his hands to box.

You tugged on a new pair of gloves and began the painful procedure, Johnny started counting down even without you instructing him to. You quickly got to work and stitched back his wounds with your lip in between your teeth

Johnny felt squeamish, he could never get used to the feeling of stitches. His eyes were glued shut and he mumbled numbers like it was mantra.

Once you were done, you smiled fondly at your work. You managed to get by with fewer stitches and you felt pride swell up in your chest. Johnny noticed and, as lightheaded as he was, couldn't help but smile as well.

"You're pretty good."

"At stitching?"

Johnny nodded with his cheeks flushed, he made a mental reminder to smack himself in the head later for such a crude comment. You probably thought he was an idiot now.

"I sure hope so." You chuckled, making him blush even deeper if that was even possible. "It's part of my job."

Johnny shook his head in embarrassment, his dark hair bouncing from how vigorously he did it. He mumbled, "That sounded really lame and not smooth, I'm sorry. Please forget I opened my mouth."

You could only chuckle as you apply the ointment around his knuckles. He wanted the ground to open up and just swallow him whole.

"Please let this heal completely, Johnny. Don't apply any strain on your injuries for a couple of days and refrain yourself from carrying anything heavy so that the stitches won't rip." You said, carefully placing down his hand back on his knee. You were gentle as ever, Johnny swooned. "Absolutely no punching for a while."

"I have an important match at the end of next week. Is there any way to speed up the healing process?" Johnny asked, his eyes were almost pleading at you and you blinked at him in surprise.

"Apart from what I just said, there's really nothing else you could do." You pursed your lips, watching his expression visibly deflate. "If you want to have even a sliver of a chance at winning your match, I suggest you do as I say. Your stitches won't take too long to heal, I promise."

If Hyunsik was there with him, he would've probably already scolded him but the point would be the same. He had always prioritized Johnny's health above winning.

"Okay, doc. I'll do my best." Johnny said, defeated.

"You know, I always see the aftermath of your matches and your training. I want to see you in the ring next time when you're not bloody and beaten up yet." You smiled at him and you swore that all the color that was previously drained from Johnny's face came rushing back. "If it's okay."

"Are you serious?" Johnny asked, almost dumbfounded. Did the pretty doctor he'd been crushing on for months really just asked if she could watch his match?

You nodded with the same hue of red now tainting your cheeks.

"O-Of course! It's on Saturday next week! Please come and cheer me on!" Like a little kid, he excitedly rambled on about the details about the upcoming match and you nodded with the same enthusiast as you wrapped bandages around his hands.

You weren't from his world so everything he said sounded foreign to you. The terms he said, the infamy of his opponents, the prominence of it all — you were eager to learn it if it meant seeing him this happy.

You've always known that he hated hospitals. It was clear from the way he acted during your first meeting. He was stiff and tense, the body language he exuded just screamed that he wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there. As he visited the hospital more and more, you noticed the hatred never faltered. He only became better at hiding it from you.

To see him so relaxed and carefree within the four walls he hated with all his being, it was a breath of fresh air and the feeling you had in your chest grew stronger.

"You're good to go. I promise to see you in your match." You were jotting some last-minute details on the clipboard and you missed the way Johnny kept grinning like an idiot. "As much as I love seeing you here, I hate that you keep getting yourself injured. Keep out of trouble for me, Johnny."

You left the room without letting Johnny say another word.

Fuck, Johnny realized he hadn't asked for your number.

Johnny's match started in ten minutes. His heart was pounding in his ears, he almost couldn't hear what Hyunsik was shouting to him.

The underground stadium was filled to the brim with people, he felt more nervous than he did during his first boxing match. A lot was at stake for this win, he needed the belt. He was desperate for it.

"Johnny, are you listening to me?" Hyunsik raised his voice, aggressively slapping Johnny's cheeks together in his hands so he could focus on him. The boxer's mind was fleeting and it was his job to pull him back to reality now.

He hadn't seen you since last week and as much as he wanted to go back to the hospital to see you, he refused to badly hurt himself in the days that led up to the match. Johnny scanned the crowd for your face but he couldn't see it. You weren't there.

At the lack of your turnout, he failed to mask his disappointment. Hyunsik let out an aggravated groan and pulled the boxer on his feet to berate him further.

"Johnny, please for the love of all things holy, look me in the eye."

"I'm sorry. I'm okay now. I'm listening."

"Good because your match is starting soon and I need you to win this. All your hardships and sacrifices boils down to this match, you hear me?" Hyunsik bellowed, trying his best to keep his voice louder than the cries and chants of the audience. "Show them what Johnny Suh is capable of!"

Johnny nodded fervently, forcing himself into a state of serenity of peacefulness. He let out heavy breaths to even out his breathing as his team surrounded him, prepping him for what was about to come.

Hyunsik raised his hand at Johnny. He had five minutes left until his match started and he wasn't calming down.

"Can I please have some water?" Johnny asked and his medic stumbled on his feet to fetch him a bottle from the nearby cooler. He couldn't help but let out a shaky chuckle, his team seemed tenser than he was.

He downed the bottle as soon as it reached his hand. His hand was shaky. Goddammit, why was he so nervous?

At the corner of his eye, he saw Hyunsik making his way over to the barricade that separated his corner to the rest of the stadium. He arched his neck in a way that would let him take a peek what was so important that Hyunsik had to leave his side when the match was starting in a few minutes.

It seemed like Hyunsik was trying to stop a girl who was forcing her way in through the barricade. His stomach lurched at the sight of her familiar face.

As if he was acting purely on instinct, Johnny shot up from his seat and ran towards you. Hyunsik held up his arm to stop him from going any closer to you. You could've been a deranged fan, for all Hyunsik knows.

"Johnny-"

"I know her."

Hyunsik was startled at his response and started to profusely apologize to you. You looked nothing but smug and Johnny let out a breathy laugh that helped unravel the knots in his stomach. The boxer quietly motioned for him to take his leave and Hyunsik hesitantly did as told only after tapping his wrist as a sign that time was ticking.

You bowed at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry I'm late! There was this damn patient-"

"It's okay. You're here now." He cut you off, a cheesy smile on his face. You easily reciprocated it back.

"I just came down here to wish you good luck." You said with the usual confidence in your tone gone and now replaced with a sudden timidness and bashfulness. "Not like you need it or anything."

"Where are you sitting?" Johnny asked, noticing that you were struggling to keep your attention on his eyes. He peered down and realized that he didn't have a shirt on, he chuckled.

You pointed near the walls of the stadium and he strained his vision to see so far away. He pursed his lips and let out a noise of discontent. You said that it was the only seats available because you were so late.

"Why don't you sit here with them? They wouldn't mind." Johnny said, jutting his thumb over to his team who was furtively watching his interaction.

"Oh no, it's okay."

"I insist. I want you to see me win up close."

You blushed a deep shade of scarlet and Johnny grinned at his successful attempt at a flirt. Was it even a flirt or was it an ego stroke? Either way, it didn't matter because you were smiling at him. You were easing his nerves and you didn't even know.

"I got out of my shift early so I wouldn't be in the hospital later to stitch you up." You teased, softly prodding his shoulder blade.

Johnny playfully puffed out his chest, "I don't plan on getting too injured today, I wanna look cool in front of you."

"Whatever you say, Johnny."

"But I'm nervous. I'm actually really nervous today." Johnny mumbled as if he didn't want anyone else in on your conversation, gone all traces of his cockiness as his heart thudded erratically against his chest when he heard Hyunsik's call of the last minute until he has to go inside the ring.

You gingerly reached for his taped hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Just count back from a hundred like I always tell you to. You'll do fine."

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" And so you did.

Counting down the numbers, Johnny clambered inside the ring and the bell rang to signal the start of the match. Being in the medical field meant that you were against all forms of violence so you couldn't really watch the entirety of the match without feeling sick to your stomach. Johnny didn't care, he was just happy that you kept your promise and was cheering him on.

It was hectic and everything was happening all at once. It was loud and everybody was screaming. This wasn't your world, it was Johnny's and your heart fluttered at the thought that he was willing to let you in it.

Eventually, the match ended in Johnny's favor and the next thing you knew, you were being hoisted up in the air. You had the biggest smile on your face, similar to Johnny's who now had a shiny belt slung over his shoulder. All his hard work and all his trips to the hospital paid off.

"Congrats on your win!" You exclaimed, placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself.

"I wanted you to see me get the belt." He admittedly sheepishly, reaching out to hold your wrists in his bruised hands.

"Aren't you hurt in any way? We can drop by the hospital if you want." You asked, checking to see if he had any major injuries but true to his word, Johnny was inflicted little to no injuries during the match, exclude the few bruises on his jaw and a busted lip

"Actually, I'd rather we get some coffee instead." Johnny said, the small smile on his lips making you chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I don't date my patients." You smirked at Johnny's crestfallen expression, softly shoving his side to make it known that you were only joking.

Johnny pulled a face, releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding once he realized your joke. He played along, "I think you can make me an exception, I don't usually invite people to my matches."

"So this is about getting even, huh?" You were teasing him and now your faces were merely inches apart but before Johnny could even think of leaning in, you spun around and grabbed his hand once more. "C'mon then, my treat!"

Johnny let out a laugh. A boxer and a doctor, who would've thought?

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anonymous0writer · 4 years

Text

Jail Bird

Author: @anonymous0writer

Warnings: Swearing. Police stuff. Ward Cameron. (Lol) Inferences to sex. And horrible writing. I’m so sorry!

Requested: Yes!

“Can u do a jj fic where y/n is in an interrogation room with the police and that’s where she first sees jj. He sees her surfing and stuff, she is new to the outer banks . She’s really in some deep stuff with ward cameron that’s he wants out of but the cops listen to him. Jj helps her escape and they flirt and talk. She admits ward is trying to control her. He can’t stay at John B’s so JJ let’s her spend the night at his house. But then the dad catches them,”

Summary: You just moved to Outer Banks, but you’re already in deep shit. You’re fathers a dirty business man, and he and Ward Cameron have been in a feud for years. And you’re stuck in the middle. Until a certain blonde in the next cell over offers to help.

A/N: This is long! Sorry! It was so fun to write though!! I love things like this. Also, I know a cop really wouldn’t let both kids out, but Peterkin’s done it before and I took ‘liberties’ with the story. :)

I hope this was close to what you wanted!!!! It’s not my best writing, and I didn’t go into very much detail cus it’d make it wayyyyy too long but, I hope it’s close and you enjoyed!

“Name?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Age.”

“Don’t you have this on a file or something?” You protest, but the officer gives you a hard look. “Seventeen in a month.”

“Good. Now we’re going to ask you a few questions,”

You rolled your eyes. You’ve done this before. In your old town, you weren’t a stranger to shop lifting here and there. But this was new. You’ve never been in an interrogation room before. Or handcuffed. And if you weren’t in a police station, you’d be up for the kink. But this was serious. But this situation pissed you off. You’d literally just moved to Outer Banks. And now you were already at the police station. Your mother would be pissed.

You smirked at the officer. He glared, and seated himself across from you. You shifted in your cold metal seat, wrists tugging at the cuffs digging into your flesh. You winced slightly as your skin was rubbed raw.

“Why were you at the Cameron’s house?”

“I wasn’t. I was unpacking my room. I just moved here.”

If there was one thing you learned from dealing with the cops was that they assumed you were lying or had something to hide if you gave short responses. More information, they would ease up a little more.

“When?”

“On the fifth. So, two weeks ago.” You replied.

“Have you been here for two weeks?”

“No. I was going back and forth with my brother from our old house, in Virginia. We were still getting furniture and everything while my parents got everything ready here.”

“Who are your parents?”

You gave him a look. When he arrested you, he should’ve looked who you were already. You had a record after all. Which you were half proud of in any other situation, but now, it didn’t help.

“Derrick and Ellen Y/L/N.” You answered since the cop didn’t let up.

You glared at your cuffs, they were hurting. Your skin was rimmed with angry red circles. You tugged at them in a vague attempt to get them off.

“Can you get these off? They’re starting to itch.”

“No.”

You huffed. Rude. You silently asked yourself how you ended up here.

It all started a month ago. You had a small house in Virginia, but your parents were looking for houses in North Carolina.

You’re father was a business man. You knew he dabbled in very shady things, but tried to stay out of it. So when your parents announced you were moving, you were suspicious. After all, they chose the rich rich side of the Outer Banks. There was no way your father had gotten that money realistically that fast. Your father wasn’t a good man. But your mother was, but she was blind to him and his dealings. You think.

So a week later, you were practically all packed up. At least the essentials you need for your new house in OBX. You were going to buy new furniture. But only for the kitchen, dining, and living room. Because those were ‘show’ rooms. Rooms other people would see.

So after you officially moved, it was you and your brother Ian’s job to get the beds and other furniture. The big stuff you kept. So over the week and a half, you and Ian kept going back and forth. So you only had a couple days to finish your room and explore your new home.

But you’d been dragged into the police station two days later.

And you had a big suspicion it was Ward Cameron’s doing.

Ward Cameron. King Kook of OBX. Your father and him had a rivalry for a long time. Your father used to live in OBX on the Cut, and he grew up with Ward. They were enemies through out high school. And they grew to have rival businesses. You knew Ward wasn’t a good guy. Even remotely, but you were sure at least a little bit of the fortune he had was actually worked for. Unlike your father.

So moving to the birthplace of your father and the home of Ward Cameron was bound to have issues.

But you barely had time to settle into life as Kook in the Outer Banks. You weren’t used to such a big house. Or the maid. Or the pool, or money. Of course it was fake or dirty, but still. A Kook is a Kook. But in reality, you were a Pogue posing as a Kook.

“Alright, we’re going to put you in a cell while we contact your parents.” The officer grunted, gripping your arm as he lead you to the holding cells.

He let you walk in by yourself and closed the door. Immediately you gripped the bars.

“Oh come on, man! Can’t you take these off at least?” You protested, holding up your bound hands.

The officer shook his head and without another word, left. You scoffed and stepped back. “Asshole.” You muttered before finding the bench and sitting on it. You sat there for a while.

Your charge: breaking and entering in the Cameron’s house.

Ward Cameron. You knew you were gonna get in trouble sooner or later by his hand. Just not this soon. Or this outrageous. If felt like you stepped a foot outside of your house and boom, cuffs were snapped onto your wrists.

With a sudden burst of rage you sat up and smack the wall with your fist. “Fucking Ward Cameron!”

You ignored the splitting pain in your fist, but sat back down and cradled it. Your head snapped up as a laugh traveled to your ears. You looked to your left, where the bars revealed a boy with blonde hair sitting in the next cell over.

He grinned at you, his eyes flashing. You studied him. Bright blue eyes, a shit eating smirk. Blonde hair. Backwards cap. Tan skin, toned muscles, sleeveless shirt, shorts. Looked like a native. Looked like a asshole too.

“What is a girl like you doing in here?”

You quirked a brow. “I apparently broke and entered a Richie’s house.”

You had come up with your own nickname for Kooks with Ian on one of the long car rides. It was funny to you, and you knew you were about to become one, but you weren’t really one. Once again. A Pogue posing as a Kook.

The boy smirked. “Richie?”

You shrugged. “I don’t like Kook.”

“You must be new. I’d remember that pretty face.”

You rolled your eyes at the flirt, but it broke away to a smile. “Just moved here.”

“My bad.” The boy said and moved closer to the division between you two. “JJ.”

“Y/N.” You answered, taking another look at the boy. He was cute. Scratch that. Hot. And a hundred percent player. “Why are you here?”

“Same old.” JJ smirked. “The police like to arrest me for begin too hot.”

That killed your attraction. Hot and cocky didn’t go together. You knew some girls could focus on the hot, but you were the type to need a good personality. You rolled you eyes and turned away. After a couple beats of silence, JJ spoke.

“Did you actually break and enter?”

“Nope.” You gave him a quick glance. “Set up.”

JJ clicked his tongue. “I was smoking weed. Apparently you can’t do that.”

You smirked. “Really? I was counting on that, moving here.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble.”

After a while, you turned to the boy. He’d redeemed himself. He was funny, and you always appreciated a guy with humor.

“Do they usually take this long?”

“Pretty slow around here.” JJ grinned, showing you his teeth. “Island time.”

You nodded, laughing a little. “Virginia doesn’t run that way.”

“I can get you out of here.”

That got your attention. “Really?”

He nodded and pulled out a bobby pin from his jeans. You approached the bars, thrusting your hands forward so he could release you from the rings of pain.

“This isn’t my first rodeo.” He says, and soon the cuffs click and go slack. You pull them off, rubbing your sore wrists.

“Thanks.”

JJ meets you eyes and winks. But you frowned. “How are we gonna get out of the cell?”

“I have a plan. Don’t worry, Y/N.”

You can’t help it, but your stomach flops at the way he says your name. You nod and wait.

“Peterkin!” JJ yells, calling for someone you don’t know.

Soon enough, footsteps and a dark skinned cop comes around the corner. She ‘tsks’ at the blonde haired boy before you.

“JJ,” She says disapprovingly. She gives you a quick glance, but you’re seated on the bench, seemingly uninterested. “What’s this about.”

JJ motions to the door. “C’mon. You know I’m a good kid. I promise I won’t do it again.” JJ pleads.

Peterkin sighs heavily. “Alright.”

You blink. Cops back in your town hated you. Even before you committed your first crime. They’d never be this easy. You eyed JJ. There must be something about JJ that coaxes sympathy out of the cop that you don’t know.

She opens the door with her thick set of keys and the door creaks open. You are so surprised. Dirty cop? JJ walks out of the cell, smiling sweetly at the cop.

“Thanks.”

“Not again, JJ.” She eyes you. “What are you in for?”

“I was framed for breaking and entering.”

Her brows raised. “Ah. You’re the Ward Cameron case.”

“Yes ma’am.” You answered, still not knowing what JJ’s plan was. He better get you out of here, or he was exactly who you thought he was. And you’d been looking forward to getting to know the boy.

“If you go, because you were falsely accused, will you keep your mouth shut?” She asks.

“Yes ma’am.” You nod and stand. Peterkin eyes the discarded handcuffs and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. She shakes her head.

“You have to pay bail. Both of you. I can arrest both you for refusing to pay, so don’t think about avioding it.” She eyes you hard. “And I know about your record, Missy. Don’t think I’ll be easy next time I see you in the cell.”

“Of course. I won’t.”

She takes it and lets you out. “Alright. Get out of here kids.” She walks away.

You gape at the blonde. “How the hell is it that easy to get out of jail?”

JJ shakes his head. “It’s not. Trust me. I’ve been there enough to know she rarely does that.”

You nod. As JJ starts to move, you follow him. He leads you through an empty hall and you bolt outside the station. The sun beats down on your back. You forgot how hot is was. You’re used to the air conditioned. You haven’t been out much.

You run after JJ as you get far enough away that you won’t be dragged back. You stop under the shade of a palm tree. You stand there for a beat, catching your breath. You look around, it’s nice and warm. A cute town. JJ watched you admire the street and smiles. After a second he asks you a question.

“Where do you live?”

You laugh. He’s straightforward. You like that. “You’re gonna have to try harder if you want to get my number.” You answer, smirking.

He grins and takes off his hat to run a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Alright.” He pauses. “Where you from?”

It takes a second, but you understand. He’s asking what side of the island you belong to. The Cut or Figure Eight. You shrug. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t go home.” You meet his beautiful eyes. “My mother will kill me.”

JJ nods. “You’re a Kook.”

You quirk a brow. “How’d you know?”

“Kooks are always freaked out by jail. And you knew Ward Cameron.”

“Okay, fair. Are you from the cut?”

“Pogue through and through.”

You nod. You can’t go home, but you have no idea what to do. And you want to keep talking to the blonde before you.

“You wanna tour of the island?”

You send a silent thank you to the boy as you nod. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

He smiles and starts heading down the sidewalk, leaving you to catch up. The sun heats your back and illuminates everything around you in a summery light. You didn’t even realize how pretty and nice summers were here. You and JJ fall into light conversation. You ask about each others lives, lightly digging up facts and tidbits of your past. JJ takes an unexpected turn, making you startle. You start down a path that leads to a beach. You stare at the wide expanse of pale sand and blue waters.

JJ smirks at your expression. “Welcome to Outer Banks. Paradise on earth.”

You laugh at the slogan and smile. You stare at the waves crashing in and out. “I could surf here.”

“You surf?” The boy questions, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

You shrug one shoulder. “Not really. My brother’s teaching me.”

JJ catches your eye. “I could teach you. You know, I’m pretty good.”

“Wow, modest.” You grin at each other for second and then you both start down the beach again. You don’t talk, falling into a comfortable silence. Despite yourself, you’re really starting to like him. Maybe jail was a god send today.

You walk down the beach for a while, dancing in and out of conversation. Until your phone buzzes in your back pocket. Frowning, you pull out the phone. Once you check to see who it is, you blank.

“Shit,” You mutter as you see the blinking call sign and you’re mother face and contact above it.

JJ peers at the screen, and glances up to see your expression. “Is she still mad?”

“Beyond.” You sigh and put the phone back in your pocket, ignoring it. “But she’s always like that. I’ve learned that I need to giver her a day to cool off before I head home.”

JJ quirks a brow. “You’ve done this before.”

You lift a shoulder. “Back in Virginia, I was known to shop lift. Just a little. Ended up farther in jail than that.”

You throw a thumb back in the general direction of the station. JJ laughs. “So are you homeless?”

“For the night.” You answer without thinking. If you are, where are you gonna end up? On a bench? Crawling into your room at three am? You glance at the boy in front of you. Does he think you were asking him for a place to stay? You swallow and try to cover up by gesturing to the beach. “Should we continue our tour?”

JJ nods and you start walking, yet again. The sun is dipping lower on the horizon, and you know you’re going to face your sleeping situation soon enough. Back in Virginia, you usually crashed at a friends house. Or Ian’s apartment above the garage. Ian was taking a gap year before he headed off to college to travel, but that was put on the back burner because he needed to save more money and you moved.

After a while, JJ turns his blue eyes on you, and you can tell he’s searching for something. An answer.

“What’s with you and the Cameron's?”

You sigh, tucking your hands into your back pocket. “My father. He and Ward go way back. They used to go to high school together. They were both from the Cut and determined to get out of there. But they were rivals and have been every since.” You catch JJ’s eye and notice he’s watching and listening to you. All his attention on your words. Something about the way he was so intent on listening and paying attention made you want to tell him everything. Your life story. You wanted to tell this boy- one you just met (not to mention in a jail cell)- everything about you. What kind of ice cream you loved, your favorite color. What you wanted to study in college. Where you wanted to live.

So you kept talking, the words flowing naturally out of your mouth. “My dad’s an asshole. And a dirty business man. I mean, we weren’t well off in Virginia. And then suddenly he gets so much money he moves us. Not to mention in a very expensive home. On a beach.” You sigh, watching the sand and your feet as they carry to closer to the end of the beach. “So really I’m a pogue posing as a Richie.”

“Thank god.” JJ sighs. You head snaps up, confused. JJ grins at your confused expression. “I don’t like Kooks. But you’re a Pogue, so we’re good.”

You smile lightly, and then ease into a conversation. About your life. About his life. You learn all his little interests. And he learns how you broke your arm in third grade because Rebecca Pearson pushed you off the tree house. And how you love the color blue because it reminds you of the ocean and you’ve always been fascinated and in awe of it. You learn about how his mom died and how he’s just with his dad. How he’s a really good surfer. How he really wants a dog, but can’t have one. And you learn about his ‘family’ as he calls them. His friends: John B. who’s been his best friend since second grade; Kiara, the girl who’s got a foot in both worlds and big about the turtles; and Pope, the brains of the group who’s fathers a legend around the island.

By the time you lapse back into silence, the sun’s practically gone and the sky is darkening. You bite your lip. Maybe you do have to go home tonight.

JJ catches your worry. “You can come to my house if you want.”

You raise your eyebrows, surprised. JJ smirks. “I won’t make a move, don’t worry.”

You laugh. “Really? It’s totally fine. I can face my mom, promise.” You feel you’d be over stepping your fragile and new friendship.

He shakes his head. “No, look, it’s alright. I wouldn’t want to face my dad after I did something like that. I get it. It’s no big deal anyway.”

Something flashed in his eyes that you didn’t understand. But you knew he wanted to help you, and part of you wanted to go home with him. As more than a friend. So you agreed.

And naturally, as you started towards the surfer’s house, the flirting and sexual tension was amped up. His jokes got dirtier, and your flirting was becoming more and more obvious. And you weren’t scared of where it was headed. You definitely weren’t someone who slept around, but you did have a fair amount of boyfriends, and there was something about JJ. Something that made you fall instantly. It was the same thing that made you want to tell him everything about yourself. He was a strange magnet. With those eyes and words, he could easily pull you into his orbit, and you could feel yourself spilling into it. But you weren’t scared of it.

That’s why when his lips hit yours in the living room of his house, you kissed back just as hungrily. And when his hands slipped under your shirt, you arched into his touch and smiled as his lips traveled to suck on your neck. His fingers were magic, able to erupt want and need as he trailed them along your skin. And his lips were a sin sure to send you to hell. They sucked and put a welcome pressure along your body.

JJ pulled you with him to his room, where you stripped down without another thought. There was something so right and natural about this. You felt something when his eyes landed on you in the cell. And when you talked, you clicked. It was like the final puzzle piece you didn’t realize you missed until you had the whole picture. You’d been searching for it, and it finally clicked into place. And JJ, the boy before you, was that missing piece. No matter how crazy it sounded.

It was a blur of hot lips and heavy breathing. And pleasure exploding through every atom of your body as he hit spots you didn’t even know you had. You rolled around in the sheets, bodies aching for more and hearts beating rapidly. His touch was everywhere when your lips covered his skin with tiny whispers of love. The moment was perfect and he was perfect. And when you were done, sweaty and exhausted, you fit perfectly in his arms. Like you were made for him.

You turned in his arms to face him, eyes heavy with exhaustion, but you needed to say something. JJ watched you, blonde hair messy and sticking up in the places you tugged at. You smiled at the memory flooding your brain.

“Thank you for offering to save me, JJ.”

He grinned, eyes lighting up. “Any time, baby.”

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hayjeon · 4 years

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Practical Tips on getting your fics out there!

I’ve gotten an influx of these types of questions here recently, and the more i thought about what i was gonna add, it became really long :(

disclaimer: a lot of the things i bring up are just from personal experience as a writer on this site, what my followers have told me they appreciate, and what i tend to look for when im looking for fics to read! If you don’t like these tips then pls move on :)

although i’ll mention them, i’m also not going to be focusing on cliche tips like “write for yourself” or “grammar issues” cause those are pretty obvious!

1. accessibility of your blog

when you’re trying to get your name out there, make sure that you’re creating an inviting experience for any potential followers! this includes:

a memorable url! be creative!

have some fun designing your blog’s aesthetic! (i love cute blogs because it reflects a bit of the writer’s personality), and (i prefer blogs with white backgrounds because it’s easier to look through/read, say, in contrast to a pitch black one where the words need to be white!)

put your masterlist link in your bio (even better if you can link most recent fic! found this most helpful when i revisit authors that i like and can easily see if they’ve updated or not)

an organized and easy-to-navigate masterlist (personally, i prefer masterlists organized by band, instead of types of fics ie. i hate when i have to choose between drabbles, oneshots, and series masterlists; i really prefer to see them altogether!) --> see section 3

organized tags (if you’re going to be posting a lot of non-fic-related content like pictures or videos, tag them properly so followers can sort through and find your fics easily!), or (if you’re going to be writing in different mediums like drabbles, or answering asks, make sure to use a unified #mine or #writing or #fics to centralize your content)

2. get your name out there!

write write write! once you have some fics that show your talent, don’t be shy!

join writing groups: when i first started out, I joined a bunch of groups that would reblog my fics in the midst of the content of much bigger writers; these blogs developed a following, and as a result of my content mixing in with bigger blogs’ content, so did my own tumblr! there’s been a stigma recently with these groups, but im sure you can find one thats supportive and not clique-y!

send your fics to rec pages: what’s the harm? the only bad thing that can happen is that they ignore you! who cares! get out there!

if you can do the above, i really encourage you to ask your fave writers for advice/to read your fic: again, the worst that can happen is that they say no or don’t respond or don’t have enough time, but it’ll be a good opportunity to get some feedback! i for one read (or try to read) every single rec that falls into my inbox. if i like it, i’ll #rec it, and if i don’t, unless the writer asks me for feedback, i move on!!

utilize your tags!!: i’m not entirely sure if this is still the same or not, but from my memory, it’s the first 3-5 tags that matter the most? so utilize them well; push back the tags that aren’t really relevant (ie. #writing, #fics) and push more the main subject line of what you wrote (ie. jungkook fluff, bts smut, namjoon angst). these will populate your fics into the tags better!

headers!: when i’m scrolling through an infinite page of fics, the headers catch my eye the most; try being creative! you can find a lot of info out there on how to make ur headers super aesthetic, but i can share my tips too! --> see section 3

3. your masterlist

here are some practical tips!

organize by band, not type of fic/member/centralize your masterlist: i went onto a blog recently and clicked their bio mlist link to find a page full of 20~ish “JUNGKOOK MASTERLIST”/ “JAEHYUN MASTERLIST” and when i clicked on each one, they only had like 2 or 3 fics per member. i think it would’ve been better if she’d centralized all her fics! that keeps whoever is looking interested and more likely to click on another fic while browsing

add info about the fics!: when scrolling through a masterlist, it’s easy to get lost; try to add some snippets of info (ie. a short sentence you liked from the fic, a quick summary, a description of the au/scenario, or even a header!) this all gives some info about the fics you have tagged!

headers: this isn’t a requirement, but i personally love a good header on fics i read and i love making them myself as i finish up a fic and get ready to upload it; here are free sources: unsplash for HQ stock pics, crop/edit/filter in VSCO, and then add aesthetic script with fontcandy)

try to fill it up!: after i visit a blog after reading one good fic, i usually browse through their mlist to see if there are any more that i’d be interested in. if there’s a lot to look forward to, i’ll almost always follow; try to write as much as you can in the first few months to try and fill up your mlist and give blog viewers a reason to visit your blog again, follow, or even reblog your content!)

4. try not to reproduce cliche fics:

honestly tumblr’s writing community (and armys) has grown insanely these past few years and, unfortunately, even from my perspective, in the past 3-4 years, all the writers have sort of become blended together in my brain. but, i can say that the ones who consistently stand out are the ones who produce consistent content and think outside of the box!

i tend to gravitate towards fics that have really interesting plotlines (ex. btssavedmylifeblr’s VOID is always a surprise to read because it’s sO unique! i usually don’t read ot7 fics but this one is legit my fave)

I know it’s tempting to try and just write typical smut fics to try and gain some traction, but tumblr is already too overloaded by that kind of content; try to write something that’s special and unique! this will set u apart from the thousands of other writers here --> see next section

5. create unique fics:

this is also personal to my writing style, but i get so bored writing just casual fics about the members, and it affects the fics i choose to read too; i prefer unique fics which you can achieve through:

circumstance/au: create a fun au!; don’t just create an arranged marriage, create an arranged marriage in joseon dynasty, or between a werewolf and a hunter! (shameless self plug); don’t just give me friends to lovers, but give me spiderman!jungkook friends to lovers! (ie. cupofteaguk’s exchanges)

jobs: give them out-of-the-ordinary jobs; don’t just give me enemies to lovers, but give me rival!anchors who end up loving eachother! (ie. jimlingss The Newscasters)

fun dialogue: create good back-and-forth, (something i’m still working on!)! this will help your characters develop personality, and that way, readers will start to develop that themselves as well (ie. dad!yoongi from insemination wars by prolixitae is such a specific character that i love so much!, or obiwrites’ garden characters were so memorable!)

create memorable personalities: don’t give me a flat character, try to develop 4d personalities in all of your characters! (im still working on this too!) this way you can really make an impression on your followers! a great way to practice/recognize this is: “Ask my Character.” Can your followers ask a specific character a specific question, and would you be able to deliver an answer that is very specific to that character’s tone/voice/personality? If yes, then ur doing well! If not, try to think of ways that you can make tht specific character from a specific story, really unique and separate from your other characters.

6. some practical writing tips

be yourself, write for your own pleasure, blah blah blah; yeah you know already haha but here are a few more practical tips!

grammar check: if you can, try and hone your grammar! makes for an easier read

write like you: i personally LOVE this by obiwrites, but even the way she writes exudes her personality and is so specific; try not to be caught up in adding hundreds of synonyms and exquisite language; in fact, simpling it down and being more concise and honest with your writing is better than a superfluous sentence; this will also give ur characters so much more dimension and funk

use those commas/sentence variation: try to use more commas; this will feel like you’re the narrator to your own story; it also makes it more fluid to read in my opinion, over those short. clipped. sentences. (ie. “he came over, sitting down on the corner of your bed with an expression you’d never seen before” over “he walked over. he sat down, looking sad.”)

half-half dialogue/narration: a fic with too much dialogue can get confusing, and a fic with too much narration can get dry; try to balance them out, and weave in and out of each!

quality over quantity: don’t feel burdened to write a 30k word fic. in fact, i think some of the shorter fics (ie. any of versigny’s stuff) made a bigger impression on me over the longer fics because they were short, left me wanting more, and were just so high-quality in such small quantities. try out your hand at drabbles and one-shots, and don’t feel too burdened to try and develop a series right off the bat!

abandon pigeon-holes: i’m guilty of this; i start series and then end up with no vision for the stories and they end up giving me writers block. its okay. just stop or discontinue them or leave them on a hiatus; it’s okay. your priority is yourself, and if abandoning certain works are part of that, then go ahead. it’ll help you progress more.

and finally.......

i’ll add more as they come up! but if you liked this, then pls lmk! i’d love to give more tips and tricks; i think i started this blog 3-4 years ago when there weren’t as many writers here, but im glad you’re thinking of starting out/wanting to grow more! don’t feel intimidated! it’s not all about the notes/followers but creating a blog you’re proud of.

so write what you’re proud of, or interested in, and keep going. i truly thoroughly had so much fun writing this post. if there are any writers who read through this and have some more advice, pls msg me!

all the best to you!

#writing tips #story talk #if ur a writer pls lmk if theres anything u wanna add #if ur a reader then pls lmk any questions or comments!

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cassiopeiassky · 4 years

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Black Velvet

Alright everyone, it’s finally here. I’ve been sort of salty about the lack of tall!reader fics for awhile now or maybe it’s just the ubiquitous short, petite, drowning in his sweatshirt descriptions that get under my skin but just couldn’t get a decent amount of inspiration to write one. I have been known to throw in a mention of height randomly in my fics, but my usual workaround to avoid physical descriptions of the reader is to just write Bucky as like six and a half feet tall. Hes a damn super soldier, he should be taller anyway he did not start out as short as Steve. So one day I stumbled across this post by @invisibleanonymousmonsters and for some reason I can’t explain, an idea was finally unlocked in my brain later that same day. (Inspired by a song? Me? No. Never.)

It’s kind of all over the place, so buckle in. It does take a sharp right into smutsville but also ends up flipping a u and landing in flufftown. I don’t know. I just write what the muse tells me to write.

I would like to thank the incomparable @scottish-pepper for her amazing help and support while I wrote the thing - I couldn’t have done it without you, darlin.

Bucky x Tall!Reader

Modern day AU - think of a 40s prewar Bucky if he got a chance to grow up and lived in a small town

Plot: You have a terrible day of epic proportions but a beautiful stranger in a small town helps to make it better.

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), smut, mentions of alcohol/drinking/bars, a brief mention of potentially disordered eating, mentions of a thunderstorm, and a very specific shitty family member.

Word count: 12K Yep. Knda got away from me

One last author’s note: This fic includes some ASL dialogue; it is expressed in italics without quotation marks. ASL is an incredibly beautiful and expressive language, and it’s in 3D!! It also has its own grammar structure, rules, nuances, and regional differences, just like any other language, and it can be a challenge to fit it into a two-dimensional space. Taking this into consideration, I’ve decided to write the dialogue with spoken English grammar because my ASL is really rusty and I don’t want to mess it up.

It’s hot. Like 100 degrees in the shade with 95% humidity hot. The trees are wilted, flowers are drooping, and there isn’t so much as a glimmer of hope for a cloud in the sky to interrupt the sun’s torture of earth’s inhabitants. The air is thick and still – there’s no movement at all – yet dangerously unsettled. It’s the kind of weather that if you sneeze, you might cause a tornado in the next county over. Of course your cousin would choose today of all days to get married. And of course her mom pressured her into going black tie, increasing everyone’s suffering tenfold.

“I can’t believe I rented a room for this. I can’t believe I spent $200 on a dress. Why am I even here? What did I expect?” There’s no answer, but of course there wouldn’t be. You’re alone in your car, driving back to a motel that you might not even stay the night in. You’d rented a room because you figured you’d have a few drinks at the reception – you wanted to celebrate the bride, she’s one of your best friends – but at this point you might as well just make the hour drive back home.

About a block from the motel you notice a bar tucked behind a gas station. According to the clock on the dash, it’s only 5:25.

Fuck it. You deserve a goddamn drink after today.

You pull into the parking lot and are surprised by the number of cars, farm trucks, and motorcycles already parked. There’s only one redneck limo, thank God – a pickup truck with a 10 inch lift kit and truck nuts hanging off the hitch, and in your experience driven only by incredibly insecure men – so that’s a good sign, right? It must be a decent place with decent drinks if it’s this busy so early in the evening. Maybe some of your day can be salvaged after all.

The hot, sticky air rushes in as soon as the car door is opened. “Gross,” you mutter; the heat hits even harder after the air conditioning in your car. Glancing over to the passenger seat, you see the hideous shoes your aunt Lydia pressed into your hands upon arriving at the wedding. “You know what, Lydia? Fuck you and fuck your ugly shoes.” You put your heels back on just to spite her.

It’s a small-town watering hole, so of course all eyes are drawn to you when you enter. And they stay on you as you find a seat at the bar – perhaps it’s because you’re a stranger, perhaps it’s because you’re overdressed.

But probably not.

The bartender approaches while drying his hands. He’s got dirty blonde hair in a sloppy undercut, a wide, flat nose, and is wearing a concert tee shirt with the arms cut off to show off his full sleeve of tattoos.

“Do you have blended drinks?” He nods. “Strawberry daiquiri, please.”

“Sure thing.”

You pull out some cash, tipping generously because your drink is a pain in the ass to make, then look around while you wait.

The bar is cool but not cold, not brightly lit but also not uncomfortably dim, is bigger than it looks, and is even busier than the amount of vehicles in the parking lot would lead you to believe. On one side there’s a jukebox next to a small stage with an empty but decently sized dance floor. There are a few high tops, then a gaming area featuring pool tables, dart boards, and a few pinball machines. On the other side of the bar you see a window with someone selling pull tabs, a station set up for calling bingo, a door to what’s probably the kitchen, and a popcorn machine filled with freshly popped popcorn. Behind you and scattered generously throughout the building are tables, some with 4 seats and some with 6, and over half of them are occupied.

“Here you go, miss.” The bartender places your drink in front of you with a polite smile. “Would you like a menu? The full kitchen is open tonight.”

The thought is nauseating. “Mmmm…maybe later.”

“Too hot to eat?” At your despondent nod, he grimaces and places a tall glass of ice water next to the daiquiri. “Thought as much. I’ll check back in a bit.” You didn’t notice his name tag until now – his name is Clint, and according to the hand illustrations under his name, he’s fluent in ASL.

Unsure if he’s Deaf and fluent in lipreading or if he’s hearing, you both sign and murmur, “Thank you,” before bringing the drink to your lips. It’s on the edge of being burned – just the way you like it. Sipping on the sweet slush is pure bliss, cooling you down from the inside out as it tempers the heat of the rum.

You sign? He doesn’t speak this time. It’s not an uncommon reaction.

Yes. I’m an interpreter.

His eyebrows rise in interest. What made you go into that?

My high school offered it, and I ended up becoming really good friends with the teacher’s daughter, who is Deaf. I made a lot of friends, got involved with the community and immersed in the culture, and I just loved it, so I figured, why not do this for a living? My dreams of being a Triple Crown winning jockey went out the window by the end of 5th grade so…

He laughs, but not unkindly. Yeah, I suppose you are a bit too tall for that. But 5th grade? Damn. His face lights up, Hey, have you heard of PATH, International? They’ve got a campus about half hour north of here. If you like horses, it might be right up your alley.

PATH International, or Professional Association of Therapeutic Horsemanship, is an organization very close to your heart. Yes! I volunteer there every Tuesday night.

The look of surprise on Clint’s face is priceless. No shit? I’m there on Thursday nights! You must be the other interpreter the kids are always talking about - they LOVE you! And so do the horses. You know, I was Ace’s favorite till you came along. Now he won’t even look at me unless I bribe him with a treat.

You look again at his name tag, and the name clicks. Wait, you’re Hawkeye! The one that does the archery demos on horseback for the kids’ birthday parties.

He takes a theatrical bow. The one and only.

Clint “Hawkeye” Barton is nothing short of a legend at PATH. Profoundly Deaf yet impossibly accurate with speechreading, he manages to blend both worlds perfectly. He’s also a master archer both off and on horseback, which basically makes him a superhero in the kids’ eyes. There are whispers that he travelled with a circus as a teenager, that he raises horses, and that he moonlights as a vigilante, but nothing has been verified and from what you’ve been told, he will neither confirm nor deny. It’s very likely that there’s at least some truth to the horse raising rumor – Ace is technically his horse, he just loans the chestnut gelding to the program. You’d been dying to meet Clint for a few years now but hadn’t been able to make it work.

It’s so good to finally meet you!

Likewise! I’ve been meaning to swing by on a Tuesday to see who it is that stole my favorite horse’s heart, but I’m usually here. His face lights up, Hey, I’ve got some ideas for a field trip for the older kids and adults but I need to team up with an ASL interpreter since I can’t technically work as a Deaf interpreter on my own off PATH’s campus. You know, rules and shit. You interested?

Absolutely! Just let me know. You dig a pen out of your purse and write your number and email address on a napkin. You know, I’m sorry, but I’m really not sorry about Ace. He stole my heart, what can I say.

He’s a shameless flirt, but I never thought he’d actually prefer someone else over me. But now that I’ve met you, I guess I can’t be too sore about it. He seems to have good taste. He takes the napkin with a grin and folds it up before putting it in his pocket, then looks to his left when a waitress waves for his attention and nods. Duty calls. Let me know if you need anything.

Well, that improved your day considerably.

For a few minutes, anyway.

“That’s an awfully girly drink for a woman like you.” A cloud of stale cigarette smoke with an obnoxious sounding man in the middle of it takes the seat next to yours.

You don’t turn to face him; you don’t even acknowledge him. If that’s his opening line, then you really, really don’t have the patience to interact with him today. This is the guy that owns the jacked-up truck. You can feel it in your bones.

Clint makes a face from behind the drink he’s making, notices your annoyance, and shakes his head. “Dude, she’s got more alcohol in her glass than you and your four buddies combined, so don’t knock her drink of choice. She’s also clearly not interested, and way, way out of your league. Go back to your pull tabs and leave the lady alone.”

You can feel the guy’s eyes on you, but Clint keeps glaring daggers at him and he eventually leaves. You can overhear him tell his buddies, “Thought she’d be an easy lay, but you know what? Even I have standards. How do you fuck someone that tall anyway? I’d need scaffolding!” They laugh, but you continue to hold your head up high. It’s nothing you haven’t heard some version of before. He’s not clever.

Ignore them. They’re lonely, small little men.

I know. Thank you. His protective gesture is touching and completely unexpected. This kind of thing doesn’t happen very often because most people assume you can handle yourself. You can – but it’s nice to not always have to be on the defensive, and today you’re at your limit.

No worries. You look like you had a rough day, I figured you didn’t need Chad making it worse. Clint winks and turns back to his drinks.

Well, he’s not wrong, but the day can only get better from here, right? Right. You nod to yourself then sit back and enjoy your drink. Clint stops by periodically to chat, but otherwise you’re left alone.

Eventually it’s time for a trip to the ladies’ room, and you do your best to ignore the stares and chuckles that inevitably follow you. In your semi-formal black dress you certainly stand out in a bar filled with cut off shorts and tee shirts, but that’s not why they’re staring.

In your black satin and lace, modestly platformed stiletto heels – affectionately known as your ‘fuck me shoes’ – you’re well over six feet tall. Are they uncomfortable? God yes, but they’re also beautiful and totally worth it.

The bathrooms are at the back of the bar, past the dart boards and pool tables. You’re almost there when you hear something ping off one of the pool table lamps and see it ricochet across the aisle and onto the top of the glass and wood cabinets housing the pool cues.

“How – how the hell did you manage that, Rogers?” A man with dark hair and a jawline that could cut glass heads in your direction. “You were supposed to throw the chalk to me, not your imaginary friend standing thirteen feet behind me.”

“Sorry, Buck,” a blonde joins him, looking appropriately apologetic. “My aim was a little off.”

“Ya think?”

You slow your pace to watch them. The guy with the dark hair is gorgeous – well, they both are, to be fair – but the one…damn. His maroon tee shirt is fitted enough to show off his beefy physique, and his jeans hug his thighs and ass like they were made for him. He throws off an air of cocky confidence with just a hint of danger, lending a genuine feel to his bad boy image. Should you…maybe? No. No, you absolutely should not. You’re not in the right mindset to try to soothe a man’s threatened masculinity just for a bit of company.

He and the blonde reach for the wayward chalk, but it’s just out of their reach. It’s amusing to watch them try to grab for it, but you take pity on them eventually.

Time for your good deed of the week.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Stepping between the two, you reach up and effortlessly pluck the blue cube from its spot before dropping it into the dark-haired man’s hand with a smile. “Here you go.”

Wide blue eyes look up into yours, but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even smile. He just stares. Figures.

The blonde looks between you and his companion before clearing his throat. “Thank you, ma’am.”

The unspoken rejection from the brunette stings. Normally it wouldn’t get to you, but after today? It does. It really does. So you swallow against the burning thickness in your throat and force back the tears with a fake smile. “You’re welcome.” A few more steps and you’re in the ladies’ room, which only serves to make matters worse when you step into an open stall. As you turn around to lock the door, you can see your entire head in the mirror, poking out above the top. A pair of women walk in and they giggle, so you quickly sit down. There’s no point in taking it personally – it actually happens quite a bit in older buildings and you can fully admit that the sight is pretty funny – so you compose yourself and do what you came in to do. You slouch when you stand in order to avoid accidentally looking into one of the neighboring stalls and go to the vanity to wash up.

Even the sink mocks you by making you bend almost in half to reach the water.

A woman with dark hair and bright red lips exits the far-right stall and joins you at the mirror. “Oh wow, your shoes and dress are so pretty!”

“Thank you.”

“Did you come from the wedding at the ballroom?”

“Mmm hmm.” You glance at her shorts and flowery sleeveless top and swallow your sigh – you feel like a fucking behemoth next to her. “I think maybe I should have stopped by my motel room to change.”

“No, you look really nice!” She smiles up at you, “It’s really not unusual to have people dressed up in here on the weekends, you’re just earlier than we usually see it. I’ll give you a tip, though, in case your feet start to hurt. I know the place looks kinda crusty, but the owners take a lot of pride in it. The floors are clean if you choose to go barefoot.”

Her unexpected kindness surprises you; you’re usually shunned by other women when you’re at a bar because all they see is your height, which they erroneously perceive to be an advantage in attracting men. “Thank you. That’s really good to know.” She turns to leave but you stop her when you notice something wrong with her shirt. “Hey, hon, you’re missing a button.” The poor girl is busty, and she’s likely been flashing an unintentionally generous amount of cleavage for who knows how long.

She looks down and immediately sees the gap in her shirt. “Well, shit. I just bought this shirt. No wonder some of the guys couldn’t look me in the eye. Stupid boobs, always trying to pop out. Why can’t they just make clothes that fit real people?”

“I feel ya,” you mutter as you start digging through your purse. “Hold on, I’ve got something…here, try some of this.”

“Scotch tape?” She looks confused as she takes it.

“Double sided tape.”

Her eyes get wide as she gazes up at you. “You’re a genius. And an angel. An angelic genius!” She takes some and fixes her shirt, smiling brightly. Thank you so much!!”

Despite your incredibly shittastic day, you find yourself warming to her. She’s nice. “You’re welcome! I didn’t want a bunch of creeps leering at you. In a world of Chads, we women really need to stick together.”

“Oh, God, you met Chad?” She grimaces and shakes her head, “I’d like to apologize on behalf of the entire town. He and his friends are not a good representation of the rest of us, I promise. They don’t even live here, they were just permanently banned from the bar in the next town over and now they’re our problem, apparently. But I promise, the rest of the people here are alright.” She sticks out her hand, “I’m Peggy, by the way.”

You shake her calloused hand and give her your name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. If you feel like some company, just come find me. My friends and I will probably be here for a while, and you’re more than welcome to join us.”

“Thank you, I might just do that.” You flash a smile, genuine this time, and go back to your seat at the bar. What the hell, maybe you’ll take her up on her offer after you finish your drink.

A minute passes, maybe two, before someone takes the barstool next to you.

It’s him. The gorgeous brunette.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” You want to roll your eyes at your reply. Smooth. Real smooth.

“My uh, my friends pointed out that I was rude earlier, so I wanted to apologize.”

You turn to him quizzically, giving him your full attention. Is this really the same guy that was playing pool? The sexy one that projected ‘bad ass’? “For what?”

His cheeks grow pink and it throws you off guard. “It’s not nice to stare. My ma taught me better than that – she’d slap me into next week if she saw how I acted. I ain’t usually like that, I’ve just never seen, uh…”

Here it comes. The ‘I’ve never seen such a tall woman’ comment that leaves you feeling like a roadside circus freak show.

“Well, you just got an amazing smile.”

Wait, what? “Huh?”

“I’ve never seen such a pretty smile.” He shrugs and studies the bar top. “Your eyes looked sad, though. I dunno. I guess I was tryin’ to figure you out.” He turns back to you with an almost obnoxiously handsome grin, “My name’s Bucky Barnes. Can I make it up to you? Buy you a drink?”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to gauge his intent. He seems genuine enough – he’s either a brilliant actor or you seriously misjudged him, which, in your current cynical mindset, is entirely possible.

You look up to see Clint watching as he dries some glasses. Maybe he has some insight. Is this guy decent? He’s gorgeous but does he have a personality?

Clint snorts, glancing at Bucky then back to you. Yeah. He’s a pretty good guy. He’ll treat you right.

Bucky looks like he’s swallowing a smile when you turn back to him. “Yeah, I guess you can make it up to me.”

“Really?” He seems genuinely happy at the prospect.

“Sure.”

“Great!” Apparently that’s all the invitation he needs to turn on the charm. “So what’s a gorgeous girl like you doin’ in a dump like this?

“It’s not that bad,” you laugh.

“No,” he shakes his head sheepishly, “It’s not. Guess I’m really off my game today. I can usually flirt, I promise.”

A beer and another daiquiri appear on the counter. “Thanks, man,” Bucky nods to Clint. “Hey, you wanna grab a table?” He nods his head to the side of the bar by the jukebox. “It’s quieter there. We can chat and I can show you that I ain’t, in fact, the dumbass I’ve made myself out to be.”

“Yeah, okay.” Why not? Even if you don’t know Clint enough to trust him, the kids that you work with do, and you trust their judgement. So if Clint says that Bucky is decent, you’ll believe him.

***

It ends up being a good choice. Bucky turns out to be more than decent – he’s really nice, funny, respectful, keeps his eyes where they belong, and doesn’t ask if you play basketball.

He asks the basic questions and learns that you live about an hour north of here, that you’re an interpreter, you love to read, write, and draw, and yes, you were at a wedding. Tired of talking about yourself, you take advantage of him pausing to drink his beer and flip the topic.

“So what do you do?”

Bucky takes a deep breath and sighs. “I’m a mission systems engineer with NASA.”

You blink at him. “I’m sorry, you’re what?”

“A mission systems engineer with NASA. I know, I –“

“Do you have top secret clearance?”

He looks thoroughly confused. “That’s your first question?”

“Do you? Or would you have to kill me if you told me? Have you been to space? Does the government have a plan for if an asteroid comes our way, or would we have to do like the movie Armageddon and wing it with a bunch of oil rig operators?”

Bucky appears to be absolutely delighted at your string of questions. “Well, yes, no, unfortunately no, and I can’t tell you that because has to do with national security.”

“Fascinating.” You sit back, thoroughly intrigued by the man sitting across from you. “What the hell are you doing in a podunk town like this? Shouldn’t you be in Houston? Or D.C.?”

“I live here.” He chuckles at your unimpressed stare. “Yeah, I know it’s a small town – we got a bar, three churches, a motel, a gas station, and a diner that closes by 7 pm every day. Our biggest draw is the ballroom on the lake shore and the hunting grounds in the fall. It ain’t exactly the heart of modern technology. But I grew up here, my family and friends are here, and I stick around to help out on their farm. I fly into Headquarters a few times a year, but otherwise I work remotely.”

“So what do you do?”

“The general gist of it is that I lead a team that designs, develops, and deploys missions.”

“To space?”

“Well, I mean, I work for NASA…”

“What are you working on now?” You can’t help peppering him with questions – this is so fucking cool.

His eyes sparkle. “You got top secret clearance?”

“No.”

“Sorry. Can’t tell you anything,” he shrugs with a smirk.

“I…yeah, I guess I kind of walked right into that. Wow. So you’re really freaking smart.”

“I hope so!”

“Do you like it?”

“Being smart?”

“Your job, dipshit.”

He laughs, freely and openly, and it’s an amazing sound. “I love it.”

You can’t help but stare at him. “Wow. That’s…that’s just really, really fucking incredible.”

Bucky gets quiet. “It is really incredible. Thank you for thinking so.” He looks up, then back down as he starts peeling the label off his empty bottle of beer. “You know, you’re the first person I’ve told about my job that didn’t either tell me I don’t look smart enough to be a mission systems engineer or ask me how much money I make.” He meets your eyes again. “Or both. I get that a lot, too.”

You certainly know how shitty it feels to get those kinds of unsolicited comments based solely on appearance. It’s one thing to have an impression, but to just say those things out loud? “Well, they suck. And they’re truly shallow if they think intelligence has anything to do with how you look. But hey, at least they show their true colors right away so you can save yourself some time.” You lean forward, chin in hand, “Okay, so I know you can’t tell me about your actual projects, but can you tell me about your job? What are your responsibilities? What does a mission systems engineer do?”

Bucky lights up like New York City and spends the next 40 minutes going into detail about what he does, and you hang on every word; it’s impossible not to, really. His enthusiasm for what he does is so evident that even if the topic weren’t interesting, you’d still be entranced. And you thought he was gorgeous before? His animated passion makes him absolutely breathtaking.

You’ve both finished your drinks and, perhaps not so surprisingly, he switches to soda when you do. When unordered appetizers arrive with your new drinks, you both look over to Clint, who just winks and shrugs.

“Well I ain’t gonna complain. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Bucky shoves an entire ham and cheese ball into his mouth, but then has to hasashafahasa because it must have just come out of the fryer. “Ish hot! Rearry hot!”

Bursting into laugher, you slide your ice water to him before cautiously taking a bite of your buffalo wing. Considering how much fun you’ve had in the last hour, it isn’t all that surprising that your appetite has returned. “Me neither.”

The hours fly by as the conversation eventually turns to other topics, and you find yourself talking about things you wouldn’t expect considering you’ve just met. Bucky seems so open and honest that it’s difficult not to reciprocate, and if one doesn’t go into detail about what the other asks, it’s only because there’s so much to cover.

Bucky dips the last bit of pretzel into the beer cheese sauce and pops it into his mouth. “So if you don’t mind me asking, what made those pretty eyes of yours so sad?”

You take a long sip of your Coke Zero as you debate your next move. Deflect or come clean? You surprise yourself when you blurt out, “My aunt, Lydia.”

“Your aunt?”

You squirm a bit at the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability, but you keep going. “Yeah. It was her daughter that got married today. Marie and I grew up together – Lydia is my mom’s only sister, so she was the one that took care of me when my mom had to work double shifts, which was a lot. She did the best she could, and she means well, she really does, but she’s just so caught up with appearances. My height is a, uh, a definite sore spot with her.”

“Really? Why? What does it matter?”

“I think it comes down to the appearance thing. Tall women are generally seen as less feminine, even straight up masculine. Lydia is tall, too – not quite as tall as me, but close. She claims that she got her husband through making herself appear daintier. She only wears flats and follows all the newest fad diets to make herself as small as she can because she feels that being a tall woman puts her at a distinct disadvantage.” You shrug, “She was one of the primary examples I grew up with. And to be fair, it’s not like she’s completely wrong. In my experience, guys tend to feel emasculated by me. And it’s not just men that seem to see me through a distorted lens. Even from a young age – I’m talking 4th grade – I’d hear teachers tell my mom that I seemed so much more mature than my peers, that I didn’t need as much support, emotional or academic, as everyone else. I got additional responsibilities and higher expectations. The thing is, I wasn’t more mature. I was just tall, so I looked more mature. Eventually it kind of came true, though. Other than my mom, who was single and working 2 jobs to keep me housed and fed, I didn’t really have anyone that would protect me or support me. I guess no one thought I needed it, so I just got used to doing it myself.”

Bucky shakes his head, and you can’t tell if his expression is one of pity, sadness, anger, or something else.

“But Lydia made everything a hundred times worse than it needed to be. I already knew I was outside the norm, I didn’t need the reminders. But every time I’d hit a growth spurt she would share some nasty comment on it, as if telling me that boys didn’t like tall girls would somehow stop my bones from stretching.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Mmm hmm. Despite my mom’s efforts – and the fact that being tall is actually pretty awesome – Lydia’s words really got under my skin, and even now they undermine my confidence sometimes.” You gesture to yourself and the bar, “Obviously. I should be at my cousin’s wedding right now. I don’t go to many family functions anymore, because of her. It just…it puts my head in a bad place. You know, they say it takes five to seven positive comments to balance out one negative comment? The negative is in everything she says. Everything. I love my family to pieces, but I just can’t handle her.”

“What did she say to you today?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that Bucky is getting pissed.

“She met me at the door of the chapel with a pair of her ugly black penny loafers. Said that she told the photographer that I wasn’t allowed in any family pictures unless I was wearing them, because she didn’t want my Amazonian ass towering over everyone else and ruining the aesthetic.”

“Your…your ‘Amazonian ass’?”

“Eh,” you shrug and wave your hand dismissively. “It’s not the first time I’ve been called an Amazon and far from the worst thing people have said. I mean, people say it to be cruel, but Amazons were fearless warriors. I just think of it as being put in the same class as Wonder Woman. The part that hurt was that she was prepared to make sure I wasn’t in the pictures, that she thought she could just erase my existence, simply because I’m too tall for her liking.”

Bucky’s mouth drops open. “I might be overstepping here, but what a heartless bitch. No one should ever try to erase you, what a fucking idiot.”

“She browbeat Marie into dyeing her hair blonde for the wedding. Marie hates it, but did it for her mom’s approval.” You release a deep sigh, “But that’s Lydia, and that’s why I took my Amazonian ass out of there the second the ceremony was over.”

“Hmmmm.” He gazes at you. “You know she’s a princess, right?

“Huh?”

“Wonder Woman. She’s a princess. You know…Amazon Princess…it actually kinda suits you.”

“Seriously?”

“Damn right I’m serious. You’re tall? So what. You’re fuckin’ royalty. Own it, Princess. Correct ‘em. Make ‘em say it. Amazon Princess.”

“What?”

“Yep. Say it with me. Amazon Princess.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, but there’s something undeniably sweet about the way he’s pressing the issue. It’s not good enough for him that it doesn’t bother you – he wants it to be seen as a term of empowerment and to let people know that’s how you see it.

The moment is interrupted when a booming voice comes through the sound system. “Alright everybody, it’s ten o’clock!” Someone stands on the stage, holding a mike and looking more than a little tipsy. “You know what that means!”

The bar cheers, “Free jukebox!”

A line forms immediately, and the music starts.

“Wanna dance, Princess?”

“Really? You’re going to call me ‘Princess’ now?”

He shrugs with darkening eyes and a suggestive smirk. “If it’s okay with you.”

If he keeps looking at you the way he’s looking at you right now, he can call you whatever he damn well pleases. But he doesn’t need to know that. “Yeah,” you murmur. His gaze is so intense that you have to look around the bar to break it and gather your thoughts. You happen to see Peggy; she’s standing next to the blonde that had been playing pool with Bucky, so she must know him. She catches your eye, sees who you’re with, and gives a thumbs up with a huge grin. Well, alright then. You grin back and remember what she said. “Let’s dance.”

Bucky stands, stopping when he sees you toeing off your heels. “Woah, what’re you doing?”

“Taking off my shoes?”

He shakes his head, “Princess, you don’t need to do that. I ain’t too fragile to dance with a woman taller than me.”

“I know,” and you do, “But I can’t dance in these. And my feet hurt.”

When you stand, you’re almost eye to eye with Bucky; if he were barefoot as well, you would be.

People are still lined up at the jukebox, selecting their favorites. It’s exactly the mix you would expect from a place like this – classic songs like Brown Eyed Girl, Summer of ’69, and Footloose with more modern tunes sprinkled in – the kind of music that gets everyone up and dancing.

Bucky is a great dance partner, and you’re having an absolute blast. You don’t think about your aunt, the wedding that you’re supposed to be at, or how you are, without a doubt, the tallest woman in the bar. He laughs, showing off the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, obviously enjoying himself, too.

The jukebox switches songs again, and on comes the relentless, even rhythm of Black Velvet. For the first few measures, you just stare at each other. It’s the first song to play that isn’t upbeat, and you don’t know what to do until he makes the first move and pulls you close – close enough to breathe each other in. He stares as Alannah Myles’ smokey voice drifts over the steady bass, then spins you so your back is to him.

If Bucky’s a good dance partner for upbeat music, he’s even better when it’s slow like this, when every move counts. He’s enough to handle you, and more than confident enough to do so.

Bucky stays behind you, mirroring you with his hands resting gently at your waist. Your back is against his chest, but his hips keep their distance. Just to experiment, you press yours back and hear a guttural “fuck” before he intentionally shifts.

Bucky is absolutely nothing that you expected. “You’re a gentleman.”

You can feel the dark chuckle rumbles through him. “I wouldn’t say that, Princess.” He spins you around, pulling you close but not too close, and runs his thumb along your neck. “I just ain’t in the habit of taking what ain’t mine.”

His voice sends a shiver down your spine. Fuck. You like him. One night stands aren’t usually your thing…but that’s not what this feels like. He feels familiar. Safe. You like him, and he sure seems to like you. Your mind is already made up – you’ll take the chance and see what happens. You hardly recognize your own voice when you ask, “Do you want me to be?”

“Thought I was makin’ it obvious. Yes.” He doesn’t hesitate and his eyes don’t leave yours. “Are you offering?”

You move your hand to the back of his neck and lightly scratch, watching with satisfaction as his pupils dilate even more than they were. His lips part when you pull him closer, but he waits for you to close the kiss.

The second you do, his hands slide down to your lower hips before he tightens his grip. He’s not timid; he kisses you as though you’re a well-known lover, deeply and intensely, without bothering with introductions.

Bucky suddenly breaks the kiss, spinning you around again to pull your back against his chest. This time, though, he allows his hips to rock into yours with the rhythm of the music, slow and steady and insatiable. The way he moves makes it impossible not to think about fucking him; hell, you’re practically halfway there already. His hands alternate holding you tightly to his body, maximizing contact, and running up and down your sides. Your head falls back when his mouth finds your neck, and your legs go weak when his teeth nibble that spot beneath your ear.

You’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His voice is thick when his lips find your ear, “Wanna get out of here?”

You nod, taking his hand to lead him back to the table to collect your things. “I’ve got a room at the motel a block away.”

“Good.”

When you take one last look around, you see Clint, still behind the bar, grinning at you like an absolute idiot. Have fun!

“Oh my God,” you mutter under your breath, but you can’t completely hide the smile.

You step outside to find that the unbearable heat of the day has eased somewhat now that the sun has set. It’s still warm as the humid air kisses your skin, but with the breeze it’s sultry rather than oppressive.

You and Bucky look up at the same time – the stars are barely visible through the haze of clouds. There’s a thunderstorm rolling in on the western horizon.

Bucky walks you to your car, making sure you’re in safely before getting in his own truck and following you to the motel. He jumps out of his vehicle and pushes you against the car the second you’re out of it, kissing you like it’s been days and not 2 minutes since his lips were last on yours.

He doesn’t stop until the first few raindrops hit your skin. Bucky looks up while you grab your purse and your aunt’s shoes out of the car, gathering them clumsily before locking the door. It takes a minute for you to get your room key out of your purse, but you finally manage.

“Looks like the storm is already here. Gonna be a good one if it got here that fast.” He takes your hand, “Which room are you in?”

“Up the steps, furthest door on the left.”

Bucky leads you to the stairs as you both laugh while trying unsuccessfully to dodge the increasingly fat drops of rain. He doesn’t let go of your hand until you need to unlock the door, and the second you hear the click of the lock, his lips are on yours again. He pushes the door open and guides you through, closing the door behind him with a well-placed kick. You drop your purse and the loafers, then step out of your heels as he toes his shoes off. Still connected at the lips, he doesn’t see the things on the floor and trips over one of your stilettos.

“Oh shit!” His eyes are huge, staring up into yours when he realizes he isn’t going to hit the floor because you’ve caught him by the arm. “Good catch, Princess.” Both of you start laughing as he stands up straight, but the laughter dies out when his mouth find yours again. Hungry hands roam your body while you reach beneath his shirt so your fingers can explore the taut muscles you just know are hiding beneath it. Bucky grabs the collar behind his neck and pulls the shirt off altogether, and you are not disappointed. “You like what you see, huh?”

“Damn right I do.” You’re breathless, pressing your lips against the salty skin of his collarbone.

“You sure know how to use that mouth of yours, don’t ya?” He groans, then reaches down to grab the hem of your dress to lift it over your head before tossing it to the side. “Goddamn, darlin.” Bucky eyeballs you like a starving man at a feast before his mouth is back on yours, then moves his lips to the top of your breasts while he reaches around to unclasp your bra. It joins your discarded dress as he pulls you close, groaning at the feel of your naked breasts pressed against his chest. “I don’t know what the fuck I did to deserve you walkin’ into that bar tonight,” he bites your neck and you can’t stop the light whimper, “but I ain’t gonna complain. I’m gonna make you feel so good, Princess, I promise.”

You believe him. And you cannot wait.

The two of you somehow manage to take a couple of steps toward the bed. “I’ve wanted to do this since you smiled at me after givin’ me that chalk. Those eyes, that smile, that dress, those fuckin’ sexy shoes.” His hands find your hips, hooking your panties with his thumbs to push them down so you can step out of them. “When we started dancin’ all I could think about was what it would feel like havin’ your legs wrapped around me, I want you so damn bad.”

You unbutton his jeans and fumble with the zipper, then pull his jeans and boxer briefs down at the same time, freeing a fully hard cock that is nothing short of glorious. “Then either figure out how to multitask or stop talking and fuck me already.”

Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

He kicks off his remaining garments before pushing you against the nearest vertical surface – which happens to be the middle of the window, where there’s a strip of metal supporting the two panes of glass. You aren’t sitting on the ledge, just leaning against it to keep your balance. It occurs to you that maybe you should close the curtains, but you’re too far gone to care enough to do anything about it.

“Don’t you worry, Princess. I can do both.” His arm is looped around your waist to hold you steady while your upper back presses against the cold strip of metal. You’ve got one arm hooked around his neck and the other steadying yourself on the edge of the windowsill. Bucky reaches down, takes hold of your thigh and lifts it to his hip. He lets go of your waist just long enough to guide his cock to your entrance – and he can slide right in because you’re so damn wet – and fuck, the way he stretches you is delicious.

“Christ, you’re so damn fuckable,” he moans in your ear, sending shivers throughout your entire body. “So fucking perfect…don’t need a bed or a chair, I can fuck you anywhere I want. I could just bend you over, wouldn’t even need a wall.” Between his thrusts, which are as maddeningly steady and slow as his dancing, the cool metal of the windowpane at your upper back, the flickers of lightening, and the crashes of thunder, it’s almost sensory overload. He’s holding you so tightly that you can’t move your hips much, so you’re completely at his mercy. And he knows it.

Each move he makes is a sin; the angle you’re at all but guarantees he’s stroking your clit with every move. Delirious with the sensations flooding your brain, you can only babble nonsense.

“What’s that, Princess? Use your words, darlin,” Bucky

“So…so good…I, huh…”

He chuckles darkly, “What was that?”

He’s not playing fair but you really don’t mind – his confidence with you is a rarity and is such a fucking turn on. “More.”

“More? You want me to fuck you harder? Is that right?” He waits for your nod before flashing a wicked grin lit by lightning, then adjusts his grip on your thigh. “Anything you want, Princess, you get.”

His thrusts come harder and faster, multiplying your pleasure tenfold. Then he shifts his hand on your thigh, changing the support from holding it up to pushing it back, opening you further and allowing him to go even deeper.

Oh, oh fuck…

Your entire body clenches with your orgasm, so tightly you can’t even breathe, and your mouth opens in a silent scream.

Bucky follows you just seconds later with a growl of your name against your neck and a few last ragged movements.

He releases your thigh as he gently pulls out, but he doesn’t take his arm from around your waist. You lift yourself onto the windowsill, pulling him between your legs as you hold each other close and catch your breath while the storm rages outside. He keeps his face buried in your neck as you run your fingers up and down his back, calming you both. The thunder rumbles violently while lightning dances in the sky, but it doesn’t worry you. You’ve always found comfort in the chaos of a storm.

Eventually your legs start to fall asleep, so you begin to move. Bucky notices and hikes both of your thighs up to his hips before guiding your arms up around his neck. “Hold on, Princess.” He reaches down and lifts you, carrying you the 5 feet to the bed. After laying you down, he begins kissing you again, then starts exploring your body. “I love being cradled in your thighs like this, but there’s something else I wanna try,” he whispers as he starts crawling down. “Now I can take my time with you.”

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where he’s going. “Really? Um, maybe I should shower first?” You’re sweaty from the heat of the day and just had some really incredible sex, so there’s no doubt in your mind that things are less than fresh down there.

“If you want to.” He keeps on his slow descent, kissing everything in his path, “But I’m happy with you just like this. I want you, right now, as you are.”

“But don’t you –“

“No. I don’t.” There’s a challenge in his eyes when he looks up from his destination. “I don’t care.” And then Bucky dives in, devouring your pussy like he’d devoured your mouth. He’s got you writhing in moments, all worries gone. But he’s a goddamn tease now that the initial urgency has been satisfied, bringing you to the edge and then backing off again and again in a beautiful torture.

You can’t do dirty talk to save your life, but you’re about to start begging when he finally looks up, chin glistening before he wipes it away with the back of his hand. “Fucking delicious.” Between the sight of him, his voice, and the sensations you’re feeling, your brain just about short circuits. Then his fingers start to circle your entrance, teasing you, making you want more before he slowly pushes two in and curls them to press against that spot, and fuck it can’t feel any better, but then somehow it does. You pull a pillow over your face but he shifts, reaching up to yank it back off and throw it across the room. “No way, Princess, I wanna hear what I do to you,” he rasps, watching you with hungry eyes and a feral grin. You’re almost there…almost…and then he puts his mouth back on your clit and your universe implodes.

One orgasm blends into another and you allow him to push your limits until you can’t handle it anymore. “Stop,” you gasp, and he does immediately. “I’m – it’s too much. I…wow.” You’re so oversensitive at this point that if he breathes too hard, you might jump out of your skin.

Bucky crawls his way back up to you, dropping kisses on your hot skin as he goes. “You’re incredible, you know that? I love how your body responds to me, I fucking love it.”

He kisses you again, and despite your sensitivity, your hunger for him grows. Sitting up, you pull him with you then push him down to the mattress. “Fuck yes,” he whispers hoarsely when you straddle him and slide down, pausing to glide your pussy along his hardened cock, but then you slide down a little farther before spreading his legs so you can kneel between them.

It’s impossible not to groan aloud when your hands find his thighs; thick, tight, and incredibly well formed, they look like they were sculpted by a generous god. “I might have to ride one of these later.”

“Please –“ Bucky swallows hard and licks his lips as he watches you in the dim, sporadically flickering light, “Please do.”

One hand moves to palm his balls while you part your lips to take him in as far as you can, reveling in his heaviness on your tongue while using your hand to stroke the base of his cock. You give it a bit, waiting until he’s writhing beneath you before you pull off and redirect your attention. His eyes grow wide when your fingers start moving down beneath his balls to his taint, pressing gently to find the very root of his cock which will then lead you to the spot you’re looking for. Pressing firmly when you find it, you begin rubbing tight circles.

“What are you – oh. Oh. Oh, fuck, Princess, oh fuck!”

It’s ridiculously satisfying to see him reduced to the same whimpering, quivering puddle you were not so long ago. You make him come once, twice, three times without ejaculating, just because you can.

Bucky’s got his forearm resting over his eyes as he shakes his head, and you take advantage of his distraction to shift your body into position. “Holy shit.” He’s breathless, shaking, “I did not know I had a spot that could do that. Fuck. I – oh Christ…“

You slide onto his cock, smiling when his hands automatically reach to grip your hips – the biology and technique can be explained later. Leaning over, you kiss him deeply then stretch your arms above him to grip the headboard. Rocking your hips slowly, so slowly, you watch him watch you.

Bucky’s lips form words but nothing comes out except for sighs and soft moans as you become more and more intoxicated by his need for you. His hands wander up and down, touching your breasts, hips, ass, and everything in between until he pulls you down for another kiss. “Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are? You feel so good. So fucking good. Wanna make you feel good. As good as you make me feel.” Bucky kisses you again, sloppily, then wraps an arm tightly around you before flipping you both.

Now that you’re on the bottom and he’s back in control, he picks up the pace considerably.

You certainly aren’t about to complain.

His hands are grasping yours, holding them over your head, and your legs are locked around his hips as his thrusts eventually begin to lose their impeccable rhythm.

Now neither of you are in control.

The pleasure has been steadily building, an inevitable tidal wave on the horizon. Maybe it’s his confidence, maybe he’s naturally gifted, maybe it’s that his body seems to fit with yours just right. Whatever it is, this is by far the best sex you’ve ever had, and despite already having multiple orgasms, your appetite for him seems to be insatiable because you’re greedy for the next one.

“Fuck, Princess, it feels so good having those legs wrapped around me,” he pants, “Goddamn, I can – I can feel you’re right there. I ain’t gonna last much longer, come for me, darlin, give it to me now. Oh Christ yes, that’s right, just – just like that.”

Your body obeys, giving him exactly what he wants. The velvet sound of his voice, his incessant dirty talk, the way he smells and tastes – everything about him adds to your pleasure induced stupor. The orgasm is so powerful that everything but Bucky goes black, and the only thing keeping you tethered to this world is the way he chants your name as he comes.

His body continues to cover yours as you wait for your racing pulse to slow. He presses kisses to your neck, cheeks, lips, and eyelids, and finally your forehead before he gently lifts himself off to lay next to you. “C’mere,” he pulls you to him, and when you rest your head on his chest you can hear how fast his heart is still beating.

Thoroughly sated and soothed by the feel of his fingertips on your skin, it’s tempting to give in and fall asleep. But not yet. Not if you want to sleep through the night.

Reluctantly, you rise. Maybe, if you’re really fast, maybe he’ll still be here when you get back. It’s probably not the sane thing to do, but you really, really want him to stay the night.

“Where you going?” Is that trepidation you hear in his voice?

You smile as you take in the sight of him lying in the bed, disheveled and clearly satisfied. “I need to shower. And wash my face – I need to get my makeup off. My eyes are getting itchy.”

“Can I join you?” He laughs at your raised eyebrow, “No, Princess, not like that. I’m gonna need some time to recover.”

“That’s good to know,” you smirk, “I was starting to wonder if you were a god wearing a mortal’s skin.”

Bucky blushes. It’s adorable. “Nah, no god here. Just a man that’s never wanted a woman so bad before. Still do,” he shrugs, “Just too worn out at the moment to do anything about it. You’re somethin’ special, I hope you know that.”

It’s your turn to feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you hold out your hand to help him up.

The shower is tender and sweet, full of soft kisses and softer touches. This man just keeps surprising you.

He’s toweling off his hair when his eyes meet yours in the vanity mirror. “Is it okay if I stay?”

A slow smile spreads across your face – you couldn’t stop it if you tried. “I’d like that.” You slip into fresh panties and a tank top, turning to face him fully to admit, “I’d like that a lot.” Bucky beams at you before pressing a soft kiss to your lips and heads to the bed. You finish up a few minutes later and crawl in, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. There’s nothing to hide behind – no makeup, no cocktail dress, no drink. It’s just you, and this is a state that very few people see you in; no one you’ve ever dated has seen you this vulnerable until months have gone by. Some didn’t see you this way at all. “Don’t look too close. I’m very unglamorous and monochrome without makeup.”

Bucky’s blue eyes stare in yours. “We’ll have to agree to disagree.” His fingers trace your freshly moisturized skin. “I think you’re beautiful.”

Outside, the thunderstorm has exhausted itself. He pulls you close and breathes you in, and you both fall asleep to the sound of gentle rain.

***

When the sun peeks through the gap in the curtains at 6 am, you’re not even mad that you’re awake. The sight of Bucky lying peacefully next to you is something you’re thoroughly enjoying.

“You’re staring.” His voice, deep and gravelly, rumbles lightly into the silence as he opens his eyes. “It’s because I’m decent and gorgeous with a personality, right?”

“What?”

Bucky smirks as he stretches and sits up. “I should probably come clean. The bartender from last night? My parents took him and his sister in after their parents were killed in an accident. Clint and Carrie were lucky to survive – he lost his hearing and six months of memories and she was in the ICU for 3 weeks. He and I have practically been brothers since grade school.”

It takes a minute, but you finally put the pieces together. Oh. Well, shit.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop; I was just really surprised to see you sign so I didn’t look away fast enough. I’m sorry.”

You sit up and slap him lightly on the shoulder. “So, you knew what I asked him?

His smile broadens as he gives you puppy dog eyes. Yes. Please don’t be mad.

You try not to smile back as you think about it but lose the battle and shrug. “I’m not mad. Maybe a little embarrassed, but we’ve known each other for what, 12 hours? It’s not like you can tell me everything about you in that short amount of time.” You give him some serious side eye, “Although you could have mentioned that when I told you what I do for a living.”

He studies your eyes like he’s trying to see into your soul. “I told you a lot, though.”

“You did. We both did.” It surprises you, more than a little, that you aren’t horrified at how open and honest you’ve been with him.

Bucky reaches his hand up to cup your cheek and he pulls you in for a kiss. “Good morning, beautiful.” It seems like he doesn’t want to part, because he rests his forehead against yours.

Somehow your hand finds his neck, and you gently rub your thumb along his jawline. “Good morning, Bucky.”

His stomach grumbles. Loudly. “Wanna grab some breakfast, Princess?”

It makes you a stupid amount of happy that he’s not ready to leave you just yet. “Yeah. I just need a little bit to get ready.”

A half hour later, Bucky opens the passenger side door of his pickup. “Your chariot, Princess.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking his offered hand and climbing in. It’s an older truck, one with a bench seat, and it smells of hay, Bucky’s cologne, and sweat. It’s not what you’d expected, but it suits him.

In this tiny little town nothing is open at this hour on a Sunday morning, so Bucky pulls his pickup onto the interstate to head to a fast food restaurant a few miles away. You take the time to look around – the area is really pretty and reminds you of the drive to your grandparents’ house, all farmland and pastures. Of course, you can’t help but stare at the horses whenever you pass them. “Whoa. They must breed Appaloosas.”

Bucky takes a quick glance out your window. “Yeah, that’s the Carter farm. They raise Appaloosas and alpacas.” He’s quiet for a moment. “You like horses? Not everyone can randomly pick out that breed.”

“I love horses,” you murmur, smiling broadly when you spot a few foals among the herd. You’re too busy looking at them to notice how he looks at you.

***

Breakfast is simple, just something picked up at a drive thru window, but that’s perfectly fine with you. Bucky doesn’t pull back onto the interstate though, he instead starts driving the winding country roads. You don’t mind in the least; you simply sip your coffee, content to be exactly where you are. Considering the hour, you aren’t even grumpy. Stealing glance at the reason why, you hide your smile and take another sip.

Bucky’s fingers drum almost nervously against the wheel, then he seems to make a decision as he brakes sharply. “Sorry, Princess,” he smiles sheepishly, “You up for a picnic? I know a spot.”

His smile is infectious. “Yeah.”

He takes the left he stopped so quickly for, and then another left onto a dirt road, and a mile later he turns onto what looks like a seldom used service trail leading up to a fenced in pasture. “Just a sec,” he pulls the truck to a stop, then gets out to open a gate. Bucky quickly climbs back in, drives the truck through about 20 feet before turning in a tight circle to face the road, and closes the gate behind him before stepping up to your door. “I got some blankets, do you want to sit in the truck bed with me?”

“Of course.”

He gets the blankets and spreads them out while you grab the food and coffees, handing them to him before you climb in after him.

“I would’ve helped you in, Princess.”

“Bucky. I’m not five feet tall. I can get into the back of a truck.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m fully aware of that. But unlike the other shmucks you seem to have come across in your life, I ain’t gonna make you do something by yourself just because you can. You deserve consideration and chivalry, too.”

What do you even say to that? He’s the exact opposite of pretty much everything you’ve ever known. It’s nice.

He sits down against a box that is attached to the back of the cab. “C’mere. You look cold.”

It was hot when you’d packed your overnight bag so you’ve only got a tee shirt and shorts on, and luckily a hoodie that just happened to be in the backseat of your car. “I am, a little,” you admit as you curl into his side, allowing him to cover your legs with another blanket that he’s pulled out.

He eats one handed, keeping an arm around you to keep you close and warm.

Everything smells clean and fresh now that the storm went through, and the morning air is chilly but fresh with the light breeze. The radio plays softly, drifting through the open windows as you and Bucky eat and watch the fluffy white clouds drift by. It’s the best picnic you’ve ever had, hands down.

“So where are we? It’s beautiful here.”

“My parents’ farm.”

You turn to stare at him. “This is where you grew up?”

“Yep.”

“Lucky.”

“I am. Hey, I wanna introduce you to someone.” He stands suddenly, not waiting for a reply. You’re in the middle of a pasture, who the hell is there for you to meet? Bucky brings his fingers to his lips and lets out the sort of piercing whistle that you’ve never managed to master.

And then…and then…

“Are you fucking serious.” Eyes wide, you bring yourself to a kneeling position as a steel grey Percheron comes galloping full speed towards the truck. “Bucky!”

He turns toward you, face almost split in two by his grin. The horse slows down, circling the truck and whickering before coming to a full stop right at the tailgate.

“I’d like you to meet Sergeant.”

“Oh my God, Bucky, he’s stunning,” you breathe, unable to help yourself as you slowly move forward to sit at the edge of the open tailgate. Intelligent eyes take you in before a velvet muzzle finds your hand. “Sorry buddy, I don’t have any treats for you. But I do have ear scratches,” you murmur, firmly stroking the planes of his face before scratching behind his ears. You giggle when he sighs, and again when he mouths gently at your hair.

Bucky beams with pride as he pulls an apple out of the box you’d been leaning against, feeding it to Sergeant before sitting on the tailgate next to you. “I’ve had him for 20 years. I got him when he was just a colt. Trained him myself. He’s one of the reasons why I choose to work remotely – I just can’t imagine not getting to see him.”

“I don’t blame you at all, I don’t think I could’ve left this sweetheart either.” Sergeant blows gently in your face, then nuzzles you hard enough to push you backwards. “Oh my goodness, you are just a big baby, aren’t you, Sarge? Oh, you like that? That spot right there?” You laugh lightly as the giant horse stretches his neck toward you, seeming to thoroughly enjoy how you scratch just beneath where his mane grows.

“He likes you.” Sergeant looks over when Bucky speaks, but then turns back to you.

“Well, I like him.” Feeling eyes on you, you turn to Bucky. “What, are you jealous?” you tease.

“Yes.” Bucky cradles your face in both his hands and begins kissing you. Before you know it, you’re lying in the truck bed with him, making out like a couple of teenagers out past curfew. Time slows even as it moves, and you’d swear the minutes stretched into a blissful forever as you lay in his embrace. But the real world likes to force its way in, and the distant sound of a car’s horn brings you both back to your senses.

Sergeant is about 50 feet away, grazing peacefully as Bucky pulls out his phone to check the time. “We, uh, we should get going. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my hands to myself, and my folks will be drivin’ by on their way to church in about 15 minutes.”

“Don’t feel like scarring them forever with the view of your naked ass?” You sit up and start pulling up the blankets to fold them.

“Honestly?” He shakes his head, “They’d probably cheer and then invite you over for dinner.”

Pausing your movements, you let that one sink in. “…Oh. Well that would be just as awkward as the alternative.”

He shrugs. “They’ve been dropping some not so subtle hints that they think I should settle down. They’d be thrilled just to know I spent the night with you.”

You tilt your head a bit as you watch him. “Don’t you date?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Really? Why not?”

He shrugs again as you hand him the blankets, then he turns his back to you as he puts them in the box. “I dunno. I guess I just hadn’t found anyone I wanted to actually spend time with.”

“Huh.”

“What?” There’s a challenge in his eyes when he turns back around. “That so weird?”

“No, I get it. You definitely shouldn’t settle. I guess…” he’s staring at you now, waiting for you to finish, “I guess I’m just a little surprised that someone hasn’t snatched you up yet. Where I come from, you’re quite a catch.”

“You think so? How’s that?”

Is he baiting you? Teasing you? Genuinely curious? It’s impossible to tell. “I know so. You’re smart, kind, funny, and a stupid amount of gorgeous,” you pause to level a look at him, “but I suppose you already knew I thought the last part.”

Bucky barks out a laugh but at least has the good grace to look sheepish.

“You have an absolutely beautiful horse, which wins points with pretty much every person I know. Your parents took in a couple of kids when they needed a family, and you learned a new language so you could keep communicating with your friend. You have every opportunity to move to another city, but you stay here to be close to those you care about. And,” it’s dumb, really, how you’re suddenly too shy to meet his eyes, “You’re really good in bed. Like, really really good. You’re the whole damn package.” When you finally look up, he’s staring at you again. “There’s a perfectly real possibility that you’re a total asshole and that you’ve been acting this whole time – I’ve only known you for a day – but I haven’t seen any cracks. I get the definite impression that I met the real Bucky, and he is one hell of a catch.”

“Huh.” He hops down and turns, holding out his hand to help you down. Do you need to take it? No, but you love that he offers anyway. He doesn’t let go after he helps you out, instead choosing to hold your hand as he walks you to the passenger side. Bucky only lets go because he has to, and once the gate is secured behind the truck, he takes your hand and holds it for the entire drive back to the motel.

***

Ever the gentleman, Bucky walks you back to your motel door.

“Do you have to go?” The words are out before you can think too long on them.

He’s shaking his head before your entire sentence is out, “No. Not if you don’t want me to.”

You don’t even care if you sound needy or clingy. “Please stay.”

Just like you learned last night, Bucky Barnes does not need to be told twice.

At least the drapes are closed this time.

***

A sharp rap at the door and an equally sharp call of your name interrupts your post-lovemaking bliss. It’s your aunt.

“I don’t wanna,” you whine.

Bucky bristles, sensing your distress. “That her?”

You nod before pulling a pillow over your head. “I’m just going to pretend I’m still asleep. Maybe she’ll go away.”

“Don’t worry Princess, I got you.”

You feel the bed shift and move the pillow. “Bucky!”

He turns back to you, eyebrows raised, as another insistent knock echoes through the room.

“You’re naked!” It comes out as a stage whisper, making you both snicker.

He flashes a shit eating grin. “So?”

Is he really gonna…

With a dramatic huff, he stops to find his boxer briefs and quickly tugs them on. Kind of. They’re sitting awfully low.

First there’s the sound of the door swinging open, then Bucky’s voice, bored and borderline intimidating. “Yeah?”

The following silence is deafening and you almost wish the room was set up so you could see your aunt’s face, but all you can see is the back half of Bucky’s sensational body leaning in the doorframe.

“Uh, hi? I’m looking for my niece? I thought this was her room?”

“You mean the tall, gorgeous drink of water? About my height? Killer smile? Was wearing, uh, let’s see, what was she wearing? It’s been awhile and she ain’t wearin’ much of anything now.”

The blood rushes to your face, but you can’t even imagine how embarrassed Lydia is right now. The thought is nothing short of glorious.

“Uh,” he snaps his fingers a few times, feigning concentration, “Oh! A black dress with the sexiest heels imaginable? Sound about right?”

“Well, yes, but –“

“Yeah, she’s here.” His tone is still bored, but you think you can pick up on an edge of amusement. Your aunt must be squirming by now, and it’s all you can do to not start cackling.

“I thought…well…the gift opening is in an hour. I thought she was going to meet us for breakfast before –“

“She won’t be goin’ to the gift opening. Or breakfast, but don’t you worry, ma’am. I made sure she ate something.”

The not so subtle innuendo almost makes you choke on your own spit.

“You can’t – are you holding my niece hostage or something?”

He laughs darkly but yells out, “Princess, am I holding you hostage?”

Your own laugher, unable to be contained any longer, bursts out. “Nope!” you call out, absolutely feeling as gleeful as you sound.

Lydia is practically apoplectic by now. “But what about the gift opening?”

“She doesn’t. Want. To go,” he growls, stooping down. “And here, she doesn’t want your fucking ugly shoes, either. Stop projecting your insecurities onto her – she’s perfect the way she is.” Bucky closes the door – perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary – and you hear the sound of the lock sliding into place before he saunters back to the bed.

“Thank you for doing that, Buck. I – holy shit, I cannot believe you answered the door like that.” Your eyes are glued to how low his boxers are sitting – he’s showing more than just his happy trail.

“What? Everything’s technically covered.”

“Bucky.”

“Yes, Princess?”

“I – I’m not even sure how you managed it, but you basically turned your boxers into the dick version of a pasty.”

He grins, “Like I said. Everything’s technically covered.” Bucky moves closer, crawling into the bed until he hovers above you. “But not for long,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your neck. “Now, the way I figure it, we got another two hours till checkout.”

“Mmmmm…” you’d rather not think of the time. It’s necessary if you don’t want someone from housekeeping to accidentally walk in, but you don’t want this to end.

He kisses you deeply before pulling back, looking just a little hesitant. “And then, if you want, we could continue this back at my place? If you’re not in a hurry to get home?”

He’s kept his lips to himself for a few seconds, so your head manages to clear enough to process what he just said. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I get it if you have to get back. But,” he shrugs awkwardly, his current vulnerability at stark odds with his usual confidence, “I like you. I’d like to spend the day with you if you’re free.” He kisses your neck again and nibbles your ear. “We can do more of this. I like this, too. A lot.” He pulls back to look you in the eye. “But we could also do some talkin’. Maybe you’d let me take you out to a nice dinner before you head home?”

A smile, broad and genuine, stretches across your face. “I’d like that. I’d really like that.” Even if you never see Bucky again after today, you’re hungry for whatever time you can get with him. He’s addictive and you’ve never in your life felt more satisfied and safe than you do right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His borderline cocky confidence returns as his hands resume roaming the landscape of your body. “Good,” he mouths against your throat, and resumes his worship of you. “It’s gonna be a good day, Princess. A good fuckin’ day.”

Tags: @hellomissmabel @howdoesoneadult @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest @shifutheshihtzu @passiononfire @learisa @widowvinter @kaaatniss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @denialanderror @k-nighttt @givemethatgold @manders2487 @afangirlrambles @polkadottedpillowcase @bluebrrn @saysay125 @aikibriarrose @saharzek @mmauricee @imhereforbvcky @whenallsaidanddone @supernatural508 @scarlettsoldier @natalie-nightcourt @im-beautifully-sewn @lovemarvelousfics @feistytravel @tbetz0341 @nearly-whitches @jamie-leah @shliic @dessinemoiunehistoire @lucywinchester2000 @solarbarnes @a-proper-chicken @movingonto-betterthings @seekingkairos @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @part-time-patronus @natashasnight @fairislesheets @new-romanticz1989

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x tall!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #my work #black velvet #5.6.20

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

Doggy hikes and third dates

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: I’ve been mostly quietly enjoying all the smutty stuff available, but I guess it’s time to share some writing for you fellow Tumblr smutties to enjoy. I’ll be snipping the story into segments, so let’s start with the beginning. In a land far far away, called LA, a girl named Lisa encounters a familiar face. #yayhenry #bearkal

Word count: 11.553

Disclaimer: Smut and fluff

---

This is part 1 of the Tea for Two story.

Find the masterlist here.

---

I was taking my early morning hike, the sun just rising over the LA hills. And already I felt that all familiar sweat starting to seep down my arm pits - a never ending story when you live here. It was going to be another long, tiring day. But alas, first things first: a good hike.

I pushed forward, up the steep hill, seeing the glorious orange glow popping over the horizon and smiled as I managed to conquer the last few meters. I put my arms in my sides and panted slightly, casting a side eye on my watch. 6.35 AM. Good.

There was nobody else around. Just...nice and quiet. ..Or not. A soft rustle. Panting. Strange. I looked around, seeing a large dog coming out of the rough bushes, his leash dragging behind him.

‘Hey..boy.’ I said, gently, seeing if it was friendly. The both of us hesitated, but, after a long good look it started wagging its tail. ‘Haha. Oh you lost your owner somewhere on the way little rascal.’ I cooed, letting him sniff my hand, which he licked. Salty goodness. I sniggered, picking up the leash so he wouldn’t walk off and ruffling his thick black and white fur. An akita. Quite an usual dog to keep here in LA. I checked his collar, finding a small badge with a phone number and dug around my pockets to find my phone and rang the number.

‘Uhh..hi?’ I said, not hearing anything at the other side of the line, except for a soft panting sound. ‘Good morning?’ A deep voice finally spoke. ‘Uh..hello. Uhm, did you happen to lose your..dog by any chance?’ ‘Oh! OH you found him? Oh that’s great. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience.’ He spoke. ‘That’s alright. Are you near?’ ‘I ..don’t know...Where are you exactly?’ He hesitated, dragging the words out as if he was looking around, seeing if he could spot me. ‘Top of the hill good sir, haha, sorry. If you’re fast you might just see the sunrise with us!’ I quipped. He sighed in relief. ‘Ah. Stay there, I’ll be there shortly.’

Just some minutes later - me and the dog having sat down to look at the sunrise - we heard some heavy panting behind us. The dog looked around, jumping up and starting to pull his leash, leaving me just a split second to grasp the leash before he’d escape again. Also rising up, I could see a buff guy in tank top and shorts climbing up the last bit of steep hill.

‘Good morrow.’ I said, smiling, pulling the dog back a bit so he did not block the way up. The man looked up, smiling in return, not being able to speak from being so out of breath. It was..the Witcher. Henry Cavill. He climbed up the last bit of steep hill, then rose up to full height, looking me in the eye. ‘Wew..what an adventure. Thank you…SO much. He’s never ran off like that.’ He widened his eyes, looking exasperated at his dog. The dog yapped happily. ‘That’s quite alright haha.’ I offered him the leash. ‘Your hound good sir.’ I offered and he took it without hesitation, an honest thank you on his lips.

I smiled at the little moment him and the dog shared (naughty dog!), then looked back at the sunrise. The sky was bursting in rich orange and gold colours, Henry’s rhythmic panting the only sound in my ears.

Following my gaze to the view he smiled. ‘Good view indeed.’ I chuckled, agreeing. He licked his lips and straightened up even further. ‘Sorry, I haven’t caught your name..’ He finally said, looking back at me. ‘Lisa, from marketing. Also.. for the Witcher series.’ I smiled at him kindly, our eyes meeting for a good moment. He nodded, smiling. ‘Well, I thank you dearly.. Lisa from marketing.’ We both laughed and let our eyes glide back to the sunrise. If only I could stay here forever...but no.

‘I better get going. Can’t arrive at work like this.’ I pointed down at my dusty, sweaty shorts and sports bra. He nodded. ‘Yea, let’s get going.’ Henry leaned down, folding his large hand around the dog’s snout. ‘Don’t you run off on me again, Kal. That was extremely naughty.’

I laughed, seeing the dog struggling to get away from Henry’s grip, then nimbly hopped down some rocks to skip right off the hill. Something Henry couldn’t quite manage, from the sound of it. I heard him and Kal struggling behind me, his heavy body and over-eager Kal making it far less easy to get down in one piece, sand moving and heels digging in.

I looked around, raising an eyebrow. Henry smiled awkwardly, then caught up with me, setting a brisk pace down hill as Kal was more than eager to try and run ahead, pulling the leash. Seeing the over excitement, I eventually clicked my tongue. ‘Kal.’ He looked up. I gave him a discerning look and like magic he immediately fell back a bit, allowing me to take the lead, his nose staying in the curve of my knee.

I heard Henry chuckle. ‘Good with dogs huh?’ He asked. I smiled, though he couldn’t see since all he saw was my back. ‘Kind of. Grew up with big dogs. Bouviers des Flandres, german shepherds, Rhodesian ridgebacks.’

The path got a little wider, so I made way so we could walk next to one another. I smiled at him, before looking back at Kal. Henry started: ‘I adopted Kal about 6 years ago. He is mischievousness itself, but I love him ever so dearly.’ I sniffled, understanding. ‘But it’s trying too, right? You must have a terribly busy schedule.’ I asked, seeing him nod in silence. ‘Yes. But for some things you MAKE time. And I gladly make time for things that make me feel happy.’ He said thoughtfully, to which I nodded, looking down the hill.

Other people were starting to pop out of their cars at the bottom of the hill, walking their dogs. ‘Including great doggy escapes.’ I said softly, seeing Kal had noticed these dogs as well. ‘Kal!’ Henry said sternly, to which Kal looked back at his owner, his ears folding flat in submission. No more escapes today, that was.

‘So what’s your day looking like today?’ I asked, curiosity taking over. Our eyes met for a brief second, a smile pulling at his lips. ‘We have a script run through, some costume checks and a stunt rehearsal after. You?’ I looked at him, surprised he asked about me. ‘Same script run through - my manager’s on the bench so someone’s gotta be there to know what’s in the curtains. After that moving papers at the office and some freelance animation stuff. Which is really cool; Studio Ghibli is making some short show reels and I’m helping out. BIG dream.’ I nodded excitedly, smiling at Kal as he jumped up at me in mirroring excitement.

‘Cool.’ He said, smiling broadly, petting Kal to calm him down. ‘And you like hiking?’ He continued. ‘Absolutely. Running too. But the smog is awful here. And other sports whenever. Though it’s hard to find time. LA life’s ..hectic.’ ’You are quite right.’ He agreed, before stepping back, since some big boobed bombshell in pink tracksuit came to walk passed us with her tiny chihuahua - or was it a rat? Hard to tell..

With the blonde bombshell being too occupied with Henry, it was bound to happen: I saw the chihuahua shoot nervous glances at Kal, who was already starting to pull on his leash, trying to shoot past me. And thus, without hesitation, I grabbed his thick fur, pulling him towards my knee, before nodding at the unimpressed woman who languidly walked passed us, trying her most obvious flirtatious look at Henry.

He stepped back besides me. We shared smiles. ‘Women..’ I quipped, laughing. ‘And men too..’ He said exasperated. We both laughed. Not long after we reached the first houses. I saw him looking around. ‘Well, this is me.’ He said, pointing at one of the large gates which probably led to one of the mansions hidden away behind the greenery. I nodded. ‘Well, have a good day and …I guess..see you at work.’ I winked, giving Kal a scratch behind the ears.

Henry folded some rogue hair behind his ear, smiling awkwardly, hesitating while I got back up. I looked back at him, waiting him for to speak. ‘Uhm..thanks again for getting Kal. And..nice to meet you. Truly. It’s refreshing to meet someone like you..Lisa.’ He finally said, looking at me with an honest, though surprisingly dorky smile. I nodded, humoured by his awkwardness.

‘You’re most welcome Henry. It was quite refreshing to learn you are such a …normal..’ I looked at the large gate behind him..shrugging..’Well sort of normal.. guy.’ We both sniggered. ‘See ya!’ I winked, before starting my walk down the bendy road.

Just when turning the corner I could see him still standing there, looking at me, which was probably the moment he realized I could see him, and he quickly made a U-turn to get to his house. His face even more awkward, being caught in the act of staring.

----

Just a few hours later we sat in the same meeting. He had brought Kal along, who was let off his leash. Henry shook some hands of new cast members at the table and listened to some remarks from one of the assistants, not heading much mind to Kal, whom impatiently tried to push his nose under Henry’s arm.

Not much later everyone settled down and the meeting started. Me and a bunch of other crew members were seated on a row of chairs that were placed against the wall. Flies on the wall. Which meant we just had to be quiet, listen, take notes. But be it so, it got boring for me as well, once they started rereading the same scene a few times and my attention was drawn by an equally bored Kal whom was now popping his nose in between some people. They petted him, but he soon lost interest again, continuing his way.

Cute dog, I thought, then got back to making notes when a new scene was started. It was then I felt his fluffy coat brush against my legs as he plopped down in defeat, melting into a puddle of black and white at my feet. It was also then, when Henry finally looked around, seeing us, smiling a heart melting smile. He sure loved his dog.

——

‘Lisa from ..Marketing?’ I looked up. It was Henry. ‘Hello stranger.’ I quipped playfully. He joined me on a barstool at the coffee bar, which was opened during set hours. I sipped on my tea, looking back at the bar tender busying himself.

‘How are you?’ He asked. I looked back at him. Was he really going to ..put an effort into having a conversation with me? He saw my questioning gaze. ‘Busy with your thoughts?’ He tried. I laughed. ‘Sorry haha. Yes. Quite possibly. They’ve let go part of the team yesterday. Which means..a ridiculous amount of work for us to tackle.’ I raised my eyebrows in exasperation, sighing. ‘That’s showbizz.’ He said, knowingly. I shrugged. ‘Yep. You’re either in full sprint, or pacing in place. There’s no in between... How are you?’ I asked, noticing with half an eye that the bartender was walking up to us. ‘Can I get you anything Henry?’ Henry looked over at my cup. ’Tea.’ he said, giving a single nod. The bartender nodded in turn and moved away again.

Henry looked back at me, smiling tenderly. ‘To get back to your question. I’m actually having a really good day. Scenes are running smoothly. Just..feeling good.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. I smiled at him. ‘Good to hear. And.. good to see you.’ I smiled honestly. He received his tea and thanked the bartender. ‘It’s good to see you too.’ He turned a bit, hoisting up his tea in cheers. I raised my nearly empty cup, clinking. ‘Cheerio.’ I quipped.

We turned around, looking out over the set, which was right now mostly stored away pieces of set. From the looks of it they were currently rebuilding a throne room..meaning everything was squeezed back in the corners, including practically whole the coffee bar area.

‘I looked up some of your work. Really cool stuff.’ He flapped out. I looked at him in surprise. ‘What did you look for?’ I used my fingers as quote marks. ‘Lisa marketing LA?’ I sniffled. He smiled, a hint of shyness there. ‘I was actually smart enough to look at the employees list first. And.. looked up all 20 Lisa’s.’ He pulled a face, then continued; ‘Strange last name you have…’ He knitted his eyebrows. ‘It’s dutch. Roughly translates to..farmer.’ I shrugged. He smiled, shrugging along, understanding. I continued: ‘I guess not everyone is blessed with equally nice last names. Cavill is pretty cool.’ ‘Aye. Tis. It’s old french. Though my family is most..definitely British.’ He quipped, a tone of amusement in his voice.

‘Do you miss your family?’ I asked. He took on a pensive expression, not answering immediately as he stared at some people hoisting up a heavy piece of decor. A large statue. He sighed, looking back at me. ‘I do. Mostly now I’m leaving my wild years behind me. Family starts to become more important.’ He said slowly, thinking, his gaze quickly moving to his cup of tea.

‘So are you married, steady partner..something?’ I asked honestly, sipping the last of my tea, then putting it back on the counter. ‘Not as of right now. It’s just me and my trusty partner Kal.’ ’Oh mighty fluff-ball Kal’ I smiled, looking at my watch before hopping off my chair. I smiled at him kindly. ‘I hope you find yourself someone nice Henry. Gotta go, meeting starts soon.’ He looked at me, a glint of sadness in his eyes, then offered me a smile, nodding. ‘See you around.’ He said softly. I flew off, leaving him with his thoughts.

—

The next day, moving mindlessly to my usual spot at the coffee bar, I halted in place. He was sitting there.. again. And he was clearly waiting, playing around with his cup while letting his gaze fly over the seats beside him. Was he looking for someone? Maybe I shouldn’t disturb him, I thought, looking at another girl also sitting there. I turned around, deciding I’d better start looking for some coffee machine to ease my tea cravings.

—

Just three days later, same time, same place, he appeared again. For months I would not EVER see this guy, and now I saw him several times in two weeks. He sat down next to me, ordering a cup of tea. I was working on my laptop, only looking up after he had ordered his tea. ‘Hi.’ I said casually. We clinked cups again, sniffling. Silly. He smiled broadly. ‘Hi there.’ He was wearing his full-on Geralt costume and turned a bit towards me, looking at me studiously while blowing on his hot tea. It looked funny. A big buff guy in full leather armour, sipping on a cup of tea.

I turned back towards my laptop, quirking my head. ‘You know, I could use your vision and ideas on this.’ I said, turning my laptop a bit. I showed him some sketches for a red carpet event design. ‘Since you…walk these things and stuff.’ He scooted closer. I could feel his breath on my cheek. We exchanged a look. Gosh this man was soooo pretty. Even his stubble was…pretty. He smiled, knowingly, then looked at my screen. ‘Explain your vision.’ His voice kind and curious.

I explained, showing some examples. And how I wished to …freshen it up a bit. ‘More fantasy, less commodity.’ I stated. He scooted even closer, putting down his cup of tea. ‘I like that, that and that. This you should probably change. The press is not a fan of blocked views.’ His voice hummed in my ear while he pointed at some elements on my mood board and technical drawings. I looked over my shoulder. He was almost pressed against me.

He sat back a bit when he noticed I glanced over. ‘Sorry. Uhm, you probably have a partner who’d KILL me if I dared touching his pretty lady.’ He said. I smiled, realizing what he was on to. ‘Not really. Just a fat, lazy old cat. I doubt she’ll even bother as long as there’s a lap to lay on at night.’ I sniffled in amusement. He smiled, his gaze flying over my face, then quickly looking back at the screen. ‘I like your sketches. This should be..really cool. They’ve made a good decision getting you on-board.’ I nodded. ‘I’m worth every penny.’ I said confidently, focusing on the screen, moving around some elements, then nodding and saving the design.

I felt his breath on my cheeks again. I felt his gaze. What was going on with this man? I looked up, closing my laptop. ’So.. how are you? Any more involuntary doggy search quests?’ I quipped, trying to ignore the electricity that crackled through the air as my lips half mindedly reached for my tea, sipping it. ‘Oh cold.’ I groaned, pushing out my tongue in disgust. He laughed heartily, turning away a bit to not get suspicious looks from the rest of the crew.

‘Thankfully no escaping hounds and actually a pretty good week.’ Our eyes met again. ‘Want to maybe go on another hike with me?’ I asked honestly. His face shot from surprise to studious to overjoyed. ‘I’d like that!’ He smiled, then hesitated, ‘Though it won’t be in the morning. I’m…up at 3 in the morning for make-up.’ ‘Holy cow! Well eh..let’s look.’ I gasped, opening my laptop again to look at my calendar. He got the hint and opened his phone, swiping through several agenda apps. ’Thursday afternoon? Or..the weekend?’ He suggested. I scrolled through my calendar. ‘All fine. My weekend nights are booked, so preferably no early morning hikes after…’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s called D&D sessions with lots of wine.’ I sniffled. His eyebrow rose even further. ‘Dearness me. What do you play? And let’s pin Thursday afternoon.’ I nodded, putting it in my agenda. ‘I play a bard armed with a panflute and awful singing skill, level 14, and definitely stuck in a dungeon with my murder hobo party right now.’ I said, playfully earnest, looking him dead in the eye. He belted out a laugh. ‘I did not see that coming.’ We both chuckled.

He sighed, still smiling, looking at me. We were interrupted by the bartender. ‘Another cup of tea?’ He pointed at my gone-cold cup. I smiled. ‘Yes please. Thank you Joey.’ He shrugged, looking at Henry, then back at me. ‘What?’ I smiled, confidently. ‘Are you two..dating?’ He asked, unbelieving. I looked over at Henry, raising an eyebrow. Henry smiled gingerly, then nodded, winking at Joey. ‘Sorry mate.’ Joey pulled a sour face, quickly turning away jealously to pour me some tea. I looked away awkwardly - WHAT?! What did he just say? I felt Henry’s warm, strong hand on mine. He smiled at me in question. ‘Are we?’ He whispered very softly. Our eyes met. His hand on mine I needed to swallow first, before even managing anything. Words Lisa, words.

‘I ehh...guess we’re still figuring that out, aren’t we?’ I gulped, quickly straightening my back while looking at him. Joey handed me the fresh tea, quickly moving away to help someone else. Henry turned around completely on his bar stool, hanging with his elbows on the counter, his face was blank but I could see the little cogs turning in his mind. I knew men well enough by now.

I turned a quarter way to face him. He looked up and I smiled at him gently. ‘Women are complicated, but I’m not..not really. If I say we’re still figuring out what we are to each other, then that’s that. When we pinned this hike, just a minute ago, I did not have in mind it would be a date, just ..fun…figuring out. I know nothing more then your Wikipedia page by now. And that you have a dog named Kal. You ..well..I don’t know what you have found about me on the web. My work. But most definitely not even a Wikipedia page.’ I sniffled. He looked back up, inquisitively, then his face softened to that of one of understanding.

‘For a moment I thought you were friendzoning me.’ He said honestly. I laughed, poking his arm, turning around to also be able to lean with my back against the bar. I sipped my tea. ‘Are you willing to date though? If it’s…right?’ he asked, trying to sound casual. I looked up while sipping my tea, then lowered my cup slowly. ‘Yea.. sure I..am.’ I nodded, then looked at him comfortingly. ‘I just don’t want casual sex right now. These LA men and women can be quite draining..they make all the effort to get into your pants..and then poof they’re gone.’ I shrugged, looking at Joey flirting with one of the make up ladies at the end of the bar. I looked back towards henry. I could see him smile while looking at the crew moving some set pieces. ‘Tell me about it.’ He said, his eyes a shade thoughtful.

A metal voice shrieked over the speakers. *SET RUN 4 in 5. CREW REPORT. I REPEAT SET RUN 4 in 5*. Henry effortlessly jumped off the stool. ‘That’s me.’ He looked up at me, hesitating. ‘You have my number.’ I winked, then said; ‘Good luck Witcher.’ He smiled, nodding. ‘Thanks. I’m looking forward to Thursday!’ ‘Same’ I said, quietly, which he probably didn’t catch as his white wig was already disappearing in the crowd. I sighed, finishing my tea and checking my agenda for my next appointment.

---

It was Tuesday evening. A day after I asked him to join me for a hike. And, with some surprise, I noticed an unread message in my Whatsapp from a new number. A picture of a pair of feet wearing huge ugly slippers, a familiar dog laying beneath them. I smiled. Ah. The mysterious Witcher. I was sitting on the couch with my cat Bib so I took a picture of her on my lap, me wearing equally awful slippers and sent it in return.

Not much later a message popped up. ‘:) Looks like we have equal taste in awful looking slippers hahaha’ ‘Welcome to the gang ;D Had a good day?’ ‘Sure did. Got a new costume which is really…really cool. And the day truly flew by :) How are you and what have you been up to?’ ‘A rather boring day here actually. Lots and lots and lots of waiting (they call it meetings, but lets be honest, its just boring monologues) *meme of chef shooting himself with a penne pasta* And right now writing some recipes for my cookbook with my cat Bib keeping my lap warm.’ ‘Cookbook huh? You like to cook?’ ‘Sure do! And for some years now I write down my recipes and bundle them in a cookbook so I can give them away as Christmas presents to friends and family :)’ ‘I’d love to cook with you sometime!’ ‘Let’s first see if you survive a hike with me ;D’ ‘Should I be worried now..? ;)’ I snickered. He soon typed again. ‘Can Kal join us by the way? And what time are you off?’ ‘Of course! And about 2-ish, you?’ ‘3-ish I think. I’ve to check with my PA, I’ll let you know.’ ‘Sure. So you also cook?’ ‘Yes of course! Though not as often as I’d like since my schedule is pretty..crammed haha.’

We chatted for another hour or so. It was fun. I didn’t get any recipe writing done, but that was quite alright. ‘I’ve got to go. Hitting the hay. Zzz. Good night dear!’ He sent. I sent him a funny GIF of a sleeping bear. ‘Sweet dreams :)’ And he was offline. I sighed, sinking down further into my couch. Bib was softly snoring and drooling - old cat syndrome. I tickled her to wake her up, which she did ever so reluctantly. It was difficult to catch sleep. I just, silly as it be, couldn’t stop thinking of him. Of how ridiculous this all was. I had to resist the urge to look him up on Google. No, I didn’t want to find out every little thing about him through the internet. No, no. But maybe just..watching some pictures? No Lisa, no! Eventually I had to give myself some release before sleep would catch me.

----

Thursday. It was a grey, humid day. Work was running a bit late - I was glad we had set our hike at 3. It was about 2.30 when I made my way to the hall where Henry was having some stunt run-through. I sat down on the floor against one of the walls with a thermostat can with tea, sipping it while studying the men prance and dance around each other in a play-deadly fight scene. I laughed out loud when one of the men tumbled over his own feet while trying to step again, making myself known to Henry, who looked over his shoulder at me. He winked a ‘hello’, then with renewed enthusiasm jumped in place, getting ready for the next try. I noticed a few more ladies trying to be as casual as possible about hanging around. I grinned, studying their hungry glances, their legs fiercely crossed, lips pouted, eyes big. It sure must be tiring to be surrounded by all these horny women ALL the time, I thought.

It was 3.10 when the stunt team dispersed. Henry, slightly sweaty, came over to me. He nodded, reaching out an arm to pull me up. ‘Hi.’ He said with sparkling eyes, making my heart flutter for a moment. ‘Hi there.’ I said gleefully, taking his hand and feeling how he so very easily pulled me up. I awkwardly pulled my underwear a bit after getting up. ‘Such a sweaty day.’ I said, rolling my eyes, earning a loud snigger from him. ‘Yea, let’s make a quick stop at my trailer so I can change clothes and pick up Kal.’ ‘Sure.’ He looked over his shoulder endearingly, sighing content. ‘Very Lara Croftey.’ He said while we walked out of the hall, looking at me up and down. I laughed, taking a fight stance. ‘Bring it on LA sun!’ He chuckled in turn. We arrived at his trailer. A large trailer. We could hear a dog waking up, his paws scratching the door.

‘Hey there pal!’ Henry said through the door, while fussing with the key. A dog bark. I smiled, taking the moment to put on some new sunscreen. The door opened and Kal stormed out, jumping up like a young calf, making Henry laugh out loud. Henry petted him fiercely. ‘Hey boy. Hahaha. Oh I hope you’re ready for ..a walk!’ At those words Kal got even more excited, yapping happily.

When Henry made his way into the trailer, leaving the door on a slit, Kal decided to say hello to me. ‘Hey Kal. Pfff. You must be WARM in that big fur coat. We better find some shade - for both us that is.’ He licked my hands happily as I knelt down, looking him calmly in the eyes. He calmed down, sitting down as well, panting happily.

‘I don’t know how you do that.’ I heard Henry’s voice coming from the trailer. I noticed his face peaking from the door, smiling. I smirked. ‘He’s just a very good boy.’ I said, winking at Kal. Henry’s disappeared again, but I what I saw instead was him changing shirts through the small opening of the door. I blushed, quickly getting up and turning a bit to hide the redness.

He soon popped out in some shorts, shirt and cap. ‘Put on some sunscreen?’ I asked while he closed the door. He looked over. ‘Ah..I forgot.’ I pulled the sunscreen out of my bag. ‘Don’t want a lobster Henry or the makeup team will kill me.’ I said. He chuckled, gratefully taking the sunscreen and spraying some on his muscular arms, rubbing it over his exposed skin.

He didn’t properly smudge out the sunscreen on his face, so I stepped in, wiping it away. He smiled, closing his eyes, folding his hand over mine. ‘Soft hands.’ He hummed. I smiled, feeling my cheeks once again blush a tinge, making me look away quickly. He opened his eyes again looking at me sweetly. ‘Thanks.’ He handed back the sunscreen, our eyes locking for a good moment. We both smiled stupidly at each other, soon being disrupted by an impatient Kal who pushed his nose in Henry’s crotch, which made him wince forward. ‘OOopphhf.’

I laughed out loud. ‘Alright, time to get cracking. I have a pretty nice walk set out for us, bit shady, few hills, not too long.’ Henry nodded, chaining Kal on a blue leash and following me.

We talked and talked and talked, keeping a relaxed pace while pushing ourselves up the steep hills of the Hollywood hills. Kal was walking freely by this point, sniffing and peeing all over the place, his tail wagging happily. Me and Henry spoke. About the set, about the dialogues he had to learn, about my animation work, cooking. About life. We had more in common then I ever thought possible. We were quite introverted, quiet people in public, had truly enjoyed MMORPGs but could no longer find the time, loved reading fantasy, cooking, hosting small parties for friends, unwinding in a bath with a good glass of cold white wine. We had similar humour. And were equally honest and direct. We were raised by parents who were quite similar. A somewhat nervous and emotional, but passionate mother and a relaxed, hard toiling father. The only difference being his relationship with his brothers was more close.

We sat down on a bench overlooking the valley, settling down in a relaxed, though quiet moment. I used the moment to wipe off some late summer sweat from my forehead with a makeup remover tissue. It was all greasy from the smog. ‘Yuk.’ I said, looking at the tissue. ‘Oh..can I have one too?’ ‘Sure.’ I handed him one. ‘Hehe mine is dirtier.’ He commented after wiping his face as well.

‘Such a dirty man!’ I sniggered. He gave me a cheeky glance, to which I raised my eyebrow. ’Oh please!’ I started, but our interaction was interrupted by Kal who pushed his snout in Henry’s crotch again, making him wince forward... Again. I belted out a laugh. ‘Ooph.’ He groaned. ‘Mmm…Kal knows things..’ I grinned. Henry looked up, serving me a handsome smile, slowly sitting back up. ‘If anything.. he knows I haven’t been with a woman romantically for a very long time.’ He pushed some air through his nostrils, as he rearranged his trousers.

Eventually I spoke again. ‘So you like men now? Or are just genuinely done with half of Hollywood?’ I quipped. He grinned painfully. ‘No men. Uhm. But, yes, I’ve dated… many women and just haven’t found any that I …clicked with.’ He said. ‘I’m sorry to hear.’ I yawned, stretching, earning a quick poke in my ribs from him. I snorted. ‘Oophh’. ‘Am I boring you good lady?’ ‘No, but I do think I could use some food, my tummy’s quite empty.’ He smiled. ‘Yea..let’s get going.’

We walked down the hills in steady, but much slower pace. Kal had also lost his quick step, now sometimes falling behind a bit. Henry clicked his tongue whenever he was slowpoking too much.

We arrived at Henry’s car (I got to work by public transport that day). I started noticing a pattern as Henry fell a bit quiet again, so I decided to say goodbye to Kal first, going down on my knees to give him a good ruff through his thick fur. ‘See ya Kal. You’ve been a good boy.’ He licked my face happily. I wiped off my face with a grin, then smiled at Henry. He sighed, then looked down as Kal got back to his feet. ‘What’s up?’ I asked. ‘I had a good time. I didn’t quite expect it to be so …nice.’ His gorgeous blue eyes looked at me with a mix unsure happiness. ‘Good. I enjoyed it too. Quite a lot.’ I smiled. He nodded, looking again at Kal, then back at me. I shrugged, hesitating. ‘Well..see you at work I.. guess.’ Should I just go?

I started turning around, hearing him sigh harshly, his eyes unsure. MAKE A MOVE - my brain screamed. I sighed in turn, turning back towards him, making sure we got good eye contact. ‘You know….if you are feeling like it you can join me for dinner at my place. Going to make greek food.’ He blinked. ‘Uhh..yea. I’d like that. If it’s no hassle’ His smile grew again. I smiled. ‘Well I don’t know how large of an appetite you have, but nobody has ever left my dinner table hungry.’ His cheeks coloured a tinge. ‘Where do you live?’ He asked. ‘Down south, 20 minute drive. Or public transport, though I’m not sure you’d survive that.’ ‘Ah yes..fan hordes. Let’s take my car.’ He nodded smiling, a visible weight being lifted from his shoulders, as he gestured to join him, walking towards the shotgun door to hold it open for me. I curtsied and got in. And just like that we went.

I was kind of zoned out, staring at people on the sidewalks, with Kal in between my legs, Kal also staring out of the window. Henry prodded me. ‘Here?’ I sat up a bit and nodded. ‘Yep. Don’t park next to that red car. My neighbor can’t drive for shit.’ I pointed. He grinned and parked at the end of the parking lot. It was about 6 pm when we walked up the stairs to my front door. My cat came up to greet us, but quickly dispersed when Kal jumped in. I followed my usual routine; keys on the hook, cooing at my cat Bib, throwing off my shoes after which Henry followed suit and tipple tapped into the kitchen for a large glass of water. I could see he was somewhat exhausted too, slumping down on a chair.

‘Want a glass of wine or something?’ I asked. ‘Uhm..I’ll wait a bit. Still have to drive. Some water please.’ I nodded. ‘Mind if I have some wine though?’ ‘Oh no, please. Wine for the cook is always good. Can I help with anything by the way?’ ‘Slice these eggplants lengthwise in 2cm thick strips and salt them either side. We’re eating Moussaka!’ His face lit up. ‘Sounds good.’ ‘Ever had it before?’ I poured myself a glass of wine. ‘Once, in Greece.’ ‘Ooh, so I’ve got some competition.’ He grinned, chopping with great ease through the eggplant. Strong arms. I looked at him from the corner of my eye. When he noticed me looking, I averted my gaze and smiled.

I moved the moussaka into the oven and sat down opposite of him at my small square kitchen table. ‘Hi.’ I beamed, rolling wine around in my glass. He nodded in greeting. ‘I usually feed my cat around this hour, shall I give Kal some food as well?’ He sat up in his chair and nodded. ‘Uhm yea. Good thinking. He’ll probably hate me if he needs to wait all night.’ ‘All night?’ I raised my eyebrow, smirking. His eyes darkened as he held his breath, slowly nodding. I got up and looked for a bowl and whistled. Kal sat up and Bib also sneakily peaked around the corner. ‘Who’s hungry?!’ I belted, filling their bowls with pellets and a bit of wet food.

Kal pushed his nose in my crotch in all excitement, making me squeal. ’Ooph okay boy. Haha. We’ve got to stop having you do that.’ I laughed. Henry gave him a pat on his butt, laughing in turn. ‘He sure likes crotches.’ I snorted, looking at Kal, who immediately sat in anticipation. I lowered his bowl in a corner of the kitchen and stroked his snout. I looked at Henry, who simply said: ‘Eat’ and Kal started hogging down his food like he hadn’t eaten in days. My cat on the other hand wasn’t so eager to come into the kitchen so I placed her food on a good lookout place. She took a few bites but soon enough left to hide somewhere higher up.

I poured some more wine in and Henry pointed. ‘I’ll have one too.’ I nodded, getting him a glass. ‘Just an FYI; it’s simple supermarket wine.’ He smiled, shrugging like he didn’t care, then clinked his glass with mine. Not long after the moussaka was done and we sat down for dinner. What I thought would be a meal for 4 days, became a meal for 1 day. Henry sure was munching it away like sweet cake. ‘This is..freaking delicious. My god.’ He mumbled. I smiled, sipping my wine. He sat up a bit, wiping his mouth in giddiness. ‘Where are my manners?’ He smiled.

We ate and ate until our plates were empty and our bellies filled to the brim. I rolled my wineglass around in my hand, looking at Henry. He was silent, looking back at me. I shrugged. ‘Superman for dinner, how about that.’ I smirked. He looked at me, his eyes locking with mine. ‘I like you.’ He blurted out. I looked at him, a touch surprised, then smiled. ‘I like you too.’ We just continued looking at each other, gentle smiles tugging at our lips, lust darkening our eyes to the point that I... I... I felt uneasy and got up. ‘Want some tea?’ I croaked. ‘Sure.’ He quickly said.

I felt his eyes piercing my back while the water cooked. Come on, come on. Cook faster! I almost trembled, so unlike me, while filling our cups, soaking some tea bags in them. I put his cup of tea on the table, immediately feeling his hand sneaking up my leg. He was looking at me, questioning me. I tilted my head as my head really started to race. FUCK. ‘That’s reserved for third dates.’ I said, trying to keep my voice level. He grinned, nodding in understanding, then suddenly got up, closing the small space between us. But instead of fully bridging the distance, he cupped my head with his hand.

He folded a rogue hair behind my ear and just looked at me, endearingly. ‘Hi.’ He whispered. I held in my breath. ‘Would you like to go on a date with me?’ He asked in earnestness. I snorted. ‘Hahaha. Oh. Ehm. Yes. I’d like that. Go…’ He kissed me. And somehow that still caught me off guard. It took me a second to realise what was happening. It was a slow sweet kiss, a gentle one. A much to short kiss, my mind reeled. He smiled at me. ‘Good.’ He stated proudly. I was still a bit flabbergasted by all that had happened. Why? Dazed I looked at him for a moment. Fuck this. I eagerly pressed my lips against his again, a kiss he accepted with similar eagerness. It became a passionate, almost sloppy kiss. One that left me all flustered and slightly out of breath. ‘I better get going before we don’t make it to a third date.’ He whispered in gruff voice. I blushed feverishly, nodding.

Half an hour after he left I saw a new Whatsapp message popping up. I opened it. A picture of Kal on his lap. I burst out in laughter and plopped down on my couch, just staring at the picture for a bit. My cat didn’t let a moment waste and quickly plopped up on the couch to butt her head against my hand. I petted her. ‘Oh Bib. What is this?’ I made a picture of Bib curling up against me and sent it back. No more response after, but all was right, my heart was pounding and all I really needed was some me-time. I put my phone under a pillow, so I could resist to urge to keep texting him and put on some Netflix series. Not long after I felt my eyes droop and I could barely make it to my bed before falling right asleep.

The next morning I checked my phone, seeing he had sent some app messages last night while I had been watching my series. ‘Hi ;) so how’s Thursday evening? Go for drinks?’ I smiled and responded. ‘Good morning :) Thursday’s good. Any place in mind?’ Before I had fully gotten out of bed I heard my phone buzz with a new message. ‘Good morning dear one. Rooftop winebar with cats good?’ He responded pretty much straightaway. At once my heartbeat was back to racing speed. I took a deep breath, playing it cool and first doing my morning routine (getting dressed, toilet break, petting Bib)..though perhaps a bit more rushed than usual. I got back to my phone, answering: ‘Mi-auw! Sounds perfect.’ ‘I’ll pick you up at 8, good?’ I sent a smiling cat with thumbs up. Immediately feeling silly. But just shrugging it off and putting my phone in my bathrobe before making breakfast. I felt the phone buzz in my pocket. Right after putting a spoon in my yoghurt, I looked: a dog with a thumbs up. I giggled.

It took a lot of self control to not constantly check my phone every second over the next couple of days. We would occasionally share some details of our day. He mostly responded really eagerly when I shared my tomato red head after I had done some running. Of course, he exercises practically non-stop. And lots of pictures of our animals. Me walking Bib on a leash had him send a GIF of a cat on leash being dragged around since it didn’t want to follow. Hilarious.

Anyways. It was Thursday evening. I had dolled up a bit in a cute dress, black choker necklace and beachwave hair. No heels since I didn’t know whether it’d be a lot of standing or walking stairs. I heard my doorbell ring, finding a sexy man in buttoned open blouse and tight pants, a smile from ear to ear. Okey. Gotta admit. Ravishing. I would have loved to drag him into my bed then and there. Instead we shared a quick peck and he took my hand walking to a cab. Arriving at the roof top there were a few people, but it was mostly secluded. And there were indeed a few cats. We ordered a bottle of Merlot and let ourselves melt into a lounge bench overlooking LA. I noticed a couple that was secretly looking at us. ‘Do you ever get used to these people blatantly staring at you?’ He looked over his shoulder, waving expressively at the people who quickly looked away in shock. He smiled. ’Never completely. It is kind of dehumanizing at times. But then again, part of the job.’ ‘Do you miss it..just being able to walk the street unnoticed? Doing groceries?’ ’That’s been a long time ago honestly. But occasionally yes. At least some trainers and a cap work wonders.’ I laughed, taking a sip of wine. He looked at me. ‘They’ll start noticing you too.’ His voice was tender, but serious. ‘So quickly?’ He nodded, looking into the distance. The sun had started to go down and lights were being turned on. ‘Did something happen with your previous girlfriends?’ I asked with honest curiosity. He hesitated for a moment. ‘It always changes things. Some love the attention so much they want all of it. Some get suspicious of every bush and tree and don’t want to go out at all. Most of them got way too obsessed over looking dolled up 24/7.’ He slowly shook his head. I studied his face. ‘The press is a hungry beast.’ He finally said.

He looked back up at me. ‘What do you want? Stay hidden for a while?’ ‘We’re not really hidden right now..are we?’ I winked, hinting at the couple once again staring at us. He grinned. ‘They’ll probably not get further than starting a gamble on how long you and I would last.’ I shrugged, smiling. ‘But to get back to your question. No public events or any of that. But I sure as hack don’t want to give up being able to go outside together, since I love outdoor dates. I just want to get to know you. We are in the end an unlikely pair.’ ‘Unlikely pair?’ He raised his eyebrow. ‘Well, Henry, make an educated guess.’ I sat up, looking at him with a challenging smile. ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife..’ He recited. ‘Pride and prejudice.’ I nodded ‘Do you think we don’t match?’ ‘Well, other than that you are WAY more handsome, you are probably an even bigger dork than I am.’ I leaned over, giving him a peck on the lips. He smiled into our little kiss, cupping my cheek with his free hand, his other one balancing his glass of wine. ‘You are one of the few women I’ve met who dare to look closer than skin deep.’ He hummed. I moved back a bit to be able to look straight into his eyes. ‘Scaredy cats.’ I whispered in Annie voice. He tilted his head. ‘Annie, League?’ He gasped. I snorted out a loud laugh. ‘Boy, you are equally dorky!’ He laughed in turn. ‘Girl, that is. But yea, maybe just a little.’ He got up and pressed his lips against mine more feverishly before resting his nose against mine, gazing blurrily at me. ‘I’m so glad I’ve met you.’

After our date we got to another awkward little situation. I thought it best to just take two cabs. I mean. He lived up the hills, so it would be a whole trip to go around whole the city to bring me home. But he insisted. In the cab he pulled me closer, just squeezing me in his strong arm, resting his cheek against my head while I was staring at the lights flashing by. We got to my place way too quickly for my liking. Saying goodbye was getting harder each time we met. ‘I want to see you again.’ He whispered right after we kissed our goodbyes, standing by my door. ‘I’ll pick the next date.’ I stated quickly. He looked at me in slight confusion. ‘Aren’t men supposed to..?’ ‘Goodness, it’s the 21st century.’ He snickered, kissing me again, more passionately, pressing me against my front door. ‘Okey..okey..Let’s..’ I pushed him away out of breath. ’Say goodbye.’ Our eyes burned into one another. ’Speak to you soon.’ He said hoarsely, and quickly made his down the stairs. I felt almost depressed seeing him rush off, then again realising why he didn’t stall. He hadn’t been with a woman in over 1 year, yet had to act it out over and over on set. Surely he had some pent up feelings from just that. I opened my door and found my cat meowing impatiently at me. I had an uneasy feeling coming home. I could reason it all. But it left me feel a bit cold and lonely all the same. I looked at my phone. ‘Henry is typing….’ I closed my eyes, sighed, then typed: ‘You ok?’ He removed his text. Then again ‘Henry is typing…’ I waited, looking at the screen. Eventually his message was sent. ‘Didn’t mean to rush..sorry..:/‘ ‘You need to chop some wood.’ I sent, with a cheeky winking emoticon. He sent an uncomfortably smiling emoticon. ‘Yes..I forgot the number one rule before first dates..come prepared and ‘chop’ one first.’ With winking smile. I returned a kissing smiley and walked towards the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The cold feeling left. I felt my heart warm up as quickly as it cooled down before. And just like the other day, he sent me a picture when he got home. It was the wood logs near his fire place, followed by a shrugging emoticon. I sniffled. I had some wild dreams that night. Wood chop worthy ones.

I’d decided our date would be a doggy bootcamp. I had picked up a dog from the local shelter and there we stood in full track suit with dogs at the ready, along with some other sports crazies. It was sunday 8 o’clock in the morning. And the dogs were ecstatic. We decided to go for a gentle jog, since the dog I picked up was ALL over the place and definitely not following - like the lady at the shelter said he usually does. Probably his first sniffs at actual freedom, not a simple driveway walk, made him go mad with excitement. We chuckled and spoke of our week while we got to the first set of hurdles. Two of the women who joined us were totally gushing at Henry, continuously trying to flirt with him, unnecessarily sprinting after Kal who quickly outran them and asking him all sorts of slightly inappropriate questions. But he shrugged it off effortlessly. ‘Sorry ladies, if you don’t mind, me and Lisa are quite happy as just a twosome.’ The ladies huffed fiercely, giving me a dirty look, then spurted off with their pitchy dogs that were barking top lung.

Henry and I sure had to convince our guest dog to participate. His name, Scuff, seemed appropriate. He was a shaggy, confused dog, that didn’t really get what we wanted to do. Only when Kal did a few show runs, did Scuff follow with a dumb smile on his snout. All and all though, we had great fun, a little workout, the dogs were completely exhausted and after I pulled out some picknick gear for us to enjoy at the top of the solarium hill. A great view, almost alone, and the dogs eagerly ate the dogfood I had brought along. We sat there slightly sweaty, but satisfied, eating our salad and sandwiches. Henry gazed out over the trees, then halted. He pointed. ‘Hey, that’s my house!’ I followed his pointing finger. ‘Which one, the huge bachelor pad, or the ridiculous super villain mansion?’ He gave me a silly look. ‘The house with a good view, in-door gym and ..if you care to know, a really glorious shower.’ ‘Is this your way of saying I need a bath?’ ‘Well, we both do, don’t we?’ I chuckled, then my thoughts wandered. I knew that my 3-date rule was getting hard to follow with such a shower. My silence did not go unnoticed. ‘I chopped some wood.’ He added. I gave him the look, then smirked. ‘Well, i didn’t.’ He smiled, then fiddled with some grass, sighing. I looked back at the direction where he had pointed. ‘But a cup of tea sounds like a good idea.’ His gaze travelled over my legs, to my torso, to my neck, my face. Hungry eyes. He blinked. ’Tea.’ He croaked, catching himself giving thirsty looks.

We walked down the road to his house. Scuff was completely wasted, no longer following, but Kal was ever as excited, realising he was nearly home. The house was indeed large, with high fence, tropical garden, long driveway, pool, modern style supersize bungalow with top to floor windows. ‘It’s temporary, while we are shooting here. I actually live in London.’ I looked at Henry. Only now realising he was in fact a European too. He looked at me. ‘I spied with my little eye you’re from the Netherlands. Not very far from Britain.’ I smiled, somewhat uncomfortable. It kind of broke the fairytale experience. Realising we wouldn’t always be so close to one another. We stepped into his house. It was rather empty, just some straight from the box furniture with little soul. And dog toys and pictures, lots of those. I let my gaze fly over the pictures. His brothers, parents, family, some shots with fans, at movie sets, Kal. He halted, looking over his shoulder. ‘Make yourself at home. Green tea?’ ‘Yes, lovely. No milk or sugar!’ He grinned. ’Naa…that’s even for me, a brit, too awful.’ ‘Thanks.’ I grinned, taking a closer look at the pictures at the bottom of the wall. I heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, glasses clanking. Kal and Scuff had followed him into the kitchen, hoping to fetch some snacks. Which, from the sound of it, they got. I walked in seeing them chewing on some pig ears. ‘Oh you lucky fellas!’ I smiled, following Henry who nodded we would be sitting outside. ’tWas a lovely afternoon.

‘So how long are you still here?’ ’Till end of September, then we’ll fly to Poland…will your team join there?’ ‘Yea.’ ‘Cool..so..Poland. Up to December. Finish shooting there. Fly to England, press tour worldwide in January..which is going to be truly hectic..then a long break. And then shooting here starts again.’ He shrugged. ‘Someone once told me to never date a colleague. Perhaps he was a wise man.’ He looked at me with a question in his eyes. Unsure what to make of it. I looked out over the valley. ‘My year: contract up to first month in Poland, after that a BBC movie in the shetlands till end of January, but probably half of February, I know that director too well. Free schedule after that.’ He took my hand, taking my cup of tea and putting it on the side table, then took both my hands, looking deeply into my eyes. ‘I know this is all so very quick and we need to get to know one another. But please know I wish to invest my time and love into you.’ Those words hit me. I looked back into those deep blue pools of trust and warmth and couldn’t help but smile. Then sighed. ‘It’s quite a thing to have to think about. We’re going to be all over the world. And right now, we have only just touched surface on getting to know each other.’ ‘We have some months to figure it out.’ I looked at him, agreeing. ‘Yes. October.’ He pulled me closer, kissing my hair. I laughed. ‘Aiiii…I’m smelly. Don’t kill your nostrils with my stench.’ He grinned, pulling me all the way up in his lap, with great ease, and hugged me like I was his dearest toy. ’Stink or not. I like you.’ I pulled my arms out of his tight grasp and wrapped them around his neck. I gazed into his eyes, curiously. We looked at each other for a minute or so. Just, silently watching each other. Studying the fine lines on our faces. The way our eyebrows arched over our eyes. Our noses. Our lips. Curious lovers. Then finally our eyes met again. His eyes watered ever so slightly. I kissed him, crushing my chest against his. I could feel his heart beating harshly against his chest. Silently I cursed my three-date rule.

We had a busy week after. Shooting had fully started. This meant long ass 14-hour shoot days. And two of my team members had burned out, leaving us working overtime just like the actors and film crew. It was Saturday evening. We’d have a day off tomorrow. I had just finished up my day, it was 11pm, when I waddled towards the warehouse where they were shooting the last scene of the week. A pub scene. I squeezed in with some of the makeup staff. Henry was playing Geralt, absolutely covered in monster guts. It was even steaming. And everyone was singing toss a coin. The scene was cut and the director applauded. ‘And cut. Great work everyone. See you on Monday! Hair, can I have a word?’ Everyone dispersed, with the warehouse being practically empty in the stretch of just two minutes. Henry had noticed me and walked up to me. ‘Hmmm’ He rumbled in character. ‘You, need a bath.’ I stated. He grinned, making his appearance all the more scary. ‘And a nap and some food.’ He agreed, silently referencing a previous conversation. One of the make up ladies came hurrying up to him, hesitating to tug his gut covered arm. ‘I’m coming Suzan. Wait for me?’ The makeup lady gave me a weird look. As in; why would you wait for him? What the fuck? You two ..dating?! Iewl. I shrugged. ‘Sure.’ I smiled, nodding sweetly at Suzan. Not soon after they locked down the warehouse, leaving me outside in the cold. I looked over at the car park. Might as well wait for him at his car. Just when I wanted to text him I got a message from him; ‘Meet at car? Warehouse locked’ I returned a thumbs up, already seeing him in the distance.

‘That was quick.’ I grinned. ‘They didn’t have hot water.’ He groaned. ‘Military style hosing down.’ ‘You poor bird.’ I gave him a peck on the cheek and petted his back. He looked over my shoulder checking if the coast was clear before cupping my chin and giving me a deep kiss. ‘Maybe not as glorious..but what about a third date? Takeaway at my place?’ He smiled, arching his eyebrow, while circling his large arms around my small waist. I looked at him curiously. ‘I think I’ll fall asleep before we can finish our date, won’t you?’ ‘Then we just sleep.’ His eyes pierced mine. ‘Ok.’ I finally agreed. He cheered, picking me up and swirling me around. I belted out a loud giggle. While lowering me down he kissed me deeply again, resting his nose against mine before reaching for his car keys.

20 Minutes later we arrived at his place with some Mexican food, were greeted by a sleepy but very happy Kal who came pitter pattering out of Henry’s bedroom. We snacked on the food, made out, drank wine, got lazy, then after some serious yawns decided to hit the hay. It had been a very long week. It was nevertheless strange how comfortable sleeping together was. Usually at the beginning of relationships I would barely sleep. But this felt good. I snuggled into his arms, he talked a little, then soon enough my eyes fell shut and I felt his lips touching mine. ‘Sleep well my sweet princess.’ He whispered. The next morning there was no alarm clock, just Kal’s claws ticking on the floor. I stretched out finding Henry looking at me. ‘Hi sleepy head.’ He said. I yawned, then smiled at him. ‘Hmmm. Hi.’ ‘How did you sleep?’ ‘Oh I feel like I’m still dreaming, so good.’ I smiled lazily. He brushed some hair from my face, then slightly bent over me, studying my face. ’Maybe.. this requires a magical kiss!’ He said playfully earnest, studying my face some more, then kissing me, before studying me again. I sniggered.

‘Ah, the princess seems to have awakened!’ I booped his nose with my finger. ‘Carefull. You may or may not risk getting yourself turned into a frog.’ He laughed in return, kissing me passionately and climbing completely on top of me. ‘I take that risk.’ He said gruffly. It made my heart race within seconds. His muscular, heavy body pressing me into the soft mattress. His thirsty look. I dared not look down at his trunk. I felt my breath choke while I looked up at him. He broke his thirsty look with a sweet smile. ‘The safeword is stop. And then I’ll stop. Okey?’ My breath felt ever more laboured. Wow. This wasn’t a dream. This was real. This was. Oh my god. Third date.

He started languishly kissing me, his left arm keeping himself propped up while his right arm looked for my arm, entangling our fingers. I felt my groin catch fire. And I could feel him. His taught muscles, his bit of chest hair, his erection that was now pressing eagerly into my hip. I sighed in between our kisses, taking a deep breath, looking at him. ‘Oh my.’ I whispered. He grinned, before cupping my face sweetly. ‘Too fast?’ His eyes pierced mine, a gentleness overtaking them. ‘No. It’s..it’s good. It’s great. Oh my.’ I uttered. He kissed me again, smiling, then took my hand and placed it on his chest. And there my hand slowly travelled over his chiseled body. Feeling it. I closed my eyes to focus on the sensation of finger tips rippling over his muscular physique. I could feel my groin getting soaked, but I didn’t mind. I sighed a more laboured breath, then returned his kiss feverishly. He kissed me, but quickly pulled back.

‘I want to feel you.’ He said gently. What? I was a bit at loss of what he meant. He was on top of me right? Then he nodded at the underwear I was still wearing. I laughed. Silly me. ’Take it off of me.’ I smiled, which he did with trained hands, flipping us over so he could reach the clasp of my bra. He threw it aside while continuing kissing me. Then he took a breath, looking at me while his hand travelled over my undies, questioning me. I gave a slight nod, which was all he needed before removed my last piece of clothing in one fell motion.

His eyes languishly travelled over my body, a finger tracing what he saw in appreciation. I shivered under his touch, already very much aroused by simply having one of his fingers touching me. He then moved away the blankets and crawled on all fours to bend down in between my legs. I felt my breath completely choking. He noticed, looking up at me, looking for confirmation. All I could do was sigh a soft ‘yes’, while I felt his breath on my southern lips.

Oh. His wicked tongue. This tongue! His strong hands pulled up my legs in a strangling position while he lapped me like he hadn’t seen water in days. I squealed and shivered, feeling heat coil up inside me. Where an orgasm would usually take me forever, it already engulfed me. It took seconds before I felt my every nerve, electricity curling my toes, my mind putty. I gasped while he continued, now adding two fingers. I huffed and puffed, feeling my whole body tingle and shake. ‘Oh Henry. Ohhh…’

He finally got up from between my legs, looking devilishly satisfied. He crawled up, hovering over me once more, looking at me. I closed the gap, kissing him feverishly. He groaned, sinking his hips closer to mine. His erection now pressing harshly into my leg. I could feel the weight of it. Oh darn. ‘I want you.’ He said hoarsely. ‘Condom.’ I breathed. He nodded, moving to his side of the bed to reach into his bedside table. He got up, removing his trunks, looking at me in full naked, erect glory. I could only stare. That was…very well endowed. A greek god wouldn’t look any less divine.

He crawled back on top of me, grunting while rolling the condom over his erection. ‘Hmmmmpfff. Fucking things’ He huffed for a bit, looking at me while panting slightly. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before lowering himself down. It felt like he was holding back a whole lot of pent up energy. He kissed me. First sweetly, but soon passionately, almost feverishly, and I could feel his erection starting to press against my maidenhood. I panted in unison with him as he slipped in. He lay quietly for a bit, prepping up. ‘So tight.’ He gasped. I laughed, then groaned when he moved. ’Oh Lisa.’ He started to slowly push further into me. Which I didn’t know he could. So big. I groaned, slightly in shock and grasping his arm as he started moving in and out.

The feeling was so deep and big, it shocked me, stirred me, made me almost lose consciousness at some point. Our breaths were laboured while he moved up my legs, hitting an even deeper spot, which I did not even know I had.

After a few minutes of his incessant pounding, his hip bone rubbing just right, I came, again, shivering around his erect cock in such a way he couldn’t help but release himself as well. He grunted, squeezing painfully in my leg, after which he fell over on top of me. I gasped at his weight covering me like a weighted, very much penetrating, blanket. ‘Can’t breath.’ I whispered, to which he quickly propped himself up, apologising. ‘Oh my gods. That was glorious.’ I smiled languidly pressing my head back into the pillow, taking a few more laboured breaths as he pulled out. He just looked at me, panting slightly. ‘Haa.’ He uttered smiling. ‘I almost forgot what it felt like. So good.’ He whispered. ‘I haven’t come like that in 5 years.’ I stated, looking at the ceiling in utter awe.

He liked to hear that I think, as he rolled over and propped himself up on one arm, looking at me with a smile of victory. ‘Well I can give you many, many more.’ He kissed me. Slowly. Sweetly. I let my hand travel over his chest, then looked back up at him. ‘Your condom is…full.’ I stated. He looked down at the large blob of latex that was hanging from his cock. ‘Ha...Yea…haven’t found a condom yet that can truly…handle me.’ He grinned, slightly wincing while he pulled it off, quickly wiping the leftovers with a towel. He sighed, stretching out on his back.

I peeked at his still erect penis. It bounced slightly off his lower belly. I propped myself up on one arm in turn. ‘Shame they haven’t put a pill for men on the market yet.’ He raised his eyebrow at me. I grinned. ‘Do you use the pill?’ ‘Yea..just to be sure. Don’t want to become an accidental mom.’ He nodded, looking down at his penis. ‘I would however like to still use a condom for the first while….’ I said. He looked back at me with an endearing smile. ‘A small price to pay for such a big reward.’ He pulled me on top of him and pulled my hip against his still erect penis. He closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the sensation of skin to skin. Not long after I felt his erection starting to stir again and his right hand hastily grabbed another condom from the still opened drawer, expertly tearing the packaging open with his teeth. His darkened eyes interlocked with mine while he rolled the new condom over his cock. ‘Come here.’ He pulled my face towards his lips and just while he kissed me I could feel his hand moving his cock somewhat, positioning it. Seamlessly, while he cracked open my lips with his tongue, he re-entered me. Slower, with more rolling hip motions he rocked his cock against my insides. I melted into his arms, his hands keeping my hips lifted while he slowly picked up speed. It felt like a warm shower. Tingling, so hot, but comforting and healing.

After a few more hip thrusts, I climbed off of him, feeling frisky and perching up on all fours, wiggling my hips. He didn’t waste a second, bending over me, re-entering me in one fluid motion, hitting an even deeper spot. I gasped. I felt him bend over me completely, kissing my back and neck as is hands traveled to my hips, pulling me even further on his cock. I let out a little whimper. ‘Oh good gods.’ I whispered. He groaned: ‘You are so…tight.’ Not long after he started thrusting again. These thrusts were so deep I could feel them come up half my belly. I gasped and gasped some more while he ravished me. He eventually pulled me up, thrusting upwards while his lips interlocked with mine. ‘I’m coming.’ He said hoarsely, starting a punishing pace, making me bounce up from the mattress entirely. And then he groaned a final sigh of relief. He collapsed into me, letting us fall sideways on the bed. Still interlocked.

He sighed, spent and satisfied, enveloping me in his arms while his lips pressed a kiss in my neck. I was just laying there limply. ‘Are you okay?’ He asked softly. I nodded, while slowly turning my head towards him. ‘I’ve never been with someone so well endowed.’ I whispered, looking into his eyes. He smiled. Even now, I could feel his cock deep inside me. ‘I have some pain killers for cramps.’ I huffed: ’He said while still fully burrowed inside me.’ He nuzzled his face in my neck. ‘Sweet womb.’

---

Part 2 >

#henry cavill #smut #fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #meeting #dating #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x oc #doggy hike #la #third date

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brokemylegflippingthefirewall · 4 years

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*This is absolutely a fic promotion, but plz hear me out on the discourse part too

So, self inserts and original characters, the worst fanfic catgeory (fanfiction.net literally says that in one of its fic groupings, and I'm pretty sure the number of views on any fanfic website says the same).

TLDR- Yes, I agree that this stereotype carries truth, but I do think SIs and OCs have more potential to be explored, and the stigma surrounding these labels is blocking that. And oh god I just want to know so badly if this is the deal with the work I'm currently writing or if I genuinely just can't write well.

The longer version- (this was written quite late into the night/ I'm in Singapore/, and might not be so well organized, I apologize for that.)

To what extent is this stigma "justified"? I mostly use AO3 for reading fics, and when I see the OC/SI tag, the thing is....I came to look for fics about canon characters and might not have the wish to invest my time in taking in a new character. I understand that most people who read fanfiction would feel the same. This, I think, is more or less justified. If you came to look for a certain canon character/relationship, and you don't want to get invested in any OCs, then of course the OC/SI tag isn't for you.

But... I think that's about it. Bcs here's the thing,

1. Using the OC/SI format does NOT automatically make the fic worse in quality. Hell, I'm not even sure if the statistical "fact" that these tags generate the worst fics is true. Judging from what I've read in the tma fandom and my other past fandoms, the stuff with OC/SI isn't inherently worse or better than the rest of the fics. There are ones that are pretty normal in writing quality, and the ones where the prose is rly good, others where plot design stands out etc. Of course, there is a lot of wish fulfillment and the like, but... there's also a lot of that in fics that write about canon characters.

2. I can't really say whether a wish fulfillment "I just want to write cool scenes/fluff" fic is better or worse than a more serious fic that explores some characterization or plot point. I think stories (all stories, books, fanfic, myths, everything) exist to entertain us and make us feel things. I am not sure if writing a feel good story is any less meaningful than writing a story that brings people "deeper" thoughts and makes them feel good in some other way. And this isn't even the issue at hand, because fundamentally, writing an OC/SI or not doesn't determine what the content is about. I agree that a larger proportion of OC/SI fics tend to be more on the lighthearted side, but... so is most of the content consumed in the other tags. Readers don't seem to have a problem with feel good stories/fix it fics etc when there is no OC or SI, so I don't see why that type of fic paired with an OC/SI should be considered any less "meaningful".

3. Guys/gals, what is an OC/SI?

Yes, it is very personal, and it is very wish fulfillment, but... isn't that like a common literature thing...like in general? Look at the works that "real writers" publish, from contemporary to the classics, which writer doesn't write about themselves? Like, just off the top of my head, Les Miserables, Marius? Um, Dante's Inferno? (and that guy did not self insert into some random thing he straightup went for the Christian Canon😂 used his real name too, so Jonny I guess if you feel awkward about your MCs name you can think of Dante//Jk). But seriously, self insert and wish fulfillment is a big part of literature itself, and while there are things to be said about these tropes, if people don't have that much of a problem with them in other literature, I don't see why fanfic OC/SIs shouldn't be treated the same.

4. in relation to the last point. More specifically...

I do think that a lot of fanfiction which write about the original characters are also OC/SIs to different extents. I've read fics that depict pairings where the author and readers project heavily onto one (or more) of the characters. I've read stuff where the author uses a minor character to explore the established world building/character dynamics and it's clear that it's an SI but with the appearance of being a canon character (and yes it gets tons more views than one that's written as SI). How do I know this? Because I am one of those readers who project onto those characters, and I know why I read those fics, I know why I like them. It's because I can self insert, and feel like I am part of the story, part of the world. Isn't that something most people want to do? I mean, Universal Studios? Specific franchise themed museums? COSPLAY??? Of course that's not all there is to engaging with a story, but what's the shame in wanting to be a part of an already established world building, or want to love a wonderfully designed character? (slight tangent, but if u feel like it's bcs ur not as interesting/cool as the story's world or other characters appear to be then I can tell you with certainty that's not true. You are very interesting and cool and absolutely deserve to be part of a fantasy world.) Isn't that a big part of why "real literature" is written and read as well? So... what's the problem with being like, okay, I'm just gonna insert myself into the world now, through this original character? Of course, I'm not asking for people who prefer to write strictly in canon characters to change that. What I mean to say is, writing it in the form of an OC/SI, doesn't make it a lot different from other fics, or hell, from classic literature even.

I think a potential problem might be the feeling that you are taking too much creative liberty with something that is established canon, by having your own character directly interact with it. But, um, can't the same thing be said if you take a canon character, and then proceed to project heavily onto them? Like, a big part of why I don't feel comfortable writing just canon characters is that I know I'm clearly projecting and it feels awkward to rewrite an already established character to explore my own thoughts/desires. I would rather just straightup design a new character. (this is all just personal feelings, I haven't thought enough about this to make any kind of argument here. And of course, the main reason is I can't trust myself to write canon characters that don't ooc in some way so having one as my protag might kill me with my own awkwardness. )

5. the potential.

Now this is looking far ahead because I'm not sure how much our current system for distribution of knowledge & copyright can allow it. But damn. The OC/SI thing has a lot of potential. There is one thing that makes it different from writing in canon characters, and that is the way it opens up a clear space for you to add your own experience into the story. When exploring your own world view through the lense of an already established world, or vice versa, so much can be revealed about both, perhaps even bringing to light aspects of the narrative the author hadn't previously seen. We all know this feeling, it's when we ramble on about one of our stories or worlds to a friend, and they point something out, and we're like ooooh that makes a lot of sense but I hadn't thought about it before. Yea, like those moments. Stories are generally made more interesting by their interaction with many different perspectives/experiences. With OC/SI it straightup allows you to be like, okay, I'm going to engage my own experience with this fictional world/character now. I mean, isnt that also a large part of how fanfics work in general? Readers/writers bouncing symbols and experiences off each other in the form of stories? Reading about the various interpretations of canon stuff? Whats the problem with tagging it as it is? I'm just thinking about the fics that could have been written as OC/SI and explored the story in some fascinating way which weren't written at all or were discontinued bcs the number of views discouraged those authors. (I feel that with my current work as well, though I have already written half of it and the remaining half is too juicy to give up so I'll probably be completing it)

6. conclusion, sorta

I guess what I want for OC/SO fics is just the same treatment as everything else. Saw it in the tags you were searching for? Look at the teaser. Do you find it interesting? No, then very well. Yes, then click in and take a look. Do you like the writing style? Are you getting into the narrative?... etc. You know, like, same standards you would have for any other kind of fic. Not feeling like you want to read about a new character? Cool, no problem at all, click away. But I do not think that the current difference in number of views is just based on whether readers are interested in reading about a new character or not. In fact, that's what I want it to be. Show me that "true" difference, the one without the stigma behind it, because, as the same goes for every kind of stigmatized community, you're not receiving the proportionate amount of positive feedback, but what's worse is you can't even trust the criticism you receive. If no one engages, or someone gives a negative feedback, how am I supposed to know if it's because my writing is bad? or my teaser wasn't interesting? or my character was badly written/designed? Or if it was to a certain extent, bcs of the stigma? I do want criticism, of course I do, it's the first step to every improvement, and I would love it if I could get feedback that I can trust. (and this brings us to the truely "oppressed" community of the fanfic world, the people who write very good but cant write interesting teasers//jk)

7. the entirely skippable straw man rant part, also the expression of my love for The Magnus Archives.

some straw man: if you like writing your own characters so much, why not just write your own story entirely? and publish it?

You think I'm not annoyed about that? Here's the thing, I LIKE THIS WORLD I READ FROM THIS BOOK/SOME OTHER FORM OF MEDIA OR WHATEVER, I like it, it's brilliant, I want to write for it, about it, be in it, think about it, read about it, engage in whatever way I can. I CAN'T just "go write my own." And who do you think is more annoyed about not being able to publish the stuff? (According to you) I have written something that is potentially publishable (thank you btw I know you don't exist and is a strawman I invented just now but I've gotta get my compliments where I can//Jk), and I can't publish it in any potentially big way (and rightfully not) because I have no copyright over the characters. I worked hard to design my character, to make the plot meaningful, and to study the original canon plot and characters so that it would all fit together (I mean, partially bcs I can't force myself to sit down and write sth that is any less complex), and I can't actually publish it where more people will read it. And of course, on top of that, even less people will feel like reading once that "original character" tag is up. Does it look like I would be here if I could "just write my own"?

(slight tangent but come on what even is "your own"? how many classic European lit books were just fanfics of each other which were all just fanfics of the Bible or Greek mythology or sth? Stories and symbols have no boundaries it's the economic system that drew those.)

Damn this got way longer than I thought and it's morning now😂 guess I ran out of space to actually promote my fic, might have to do that in a seperate post then. But to anyone who actually read up to here, I'm so sorry for wasting your time no but srsly thanks for reading all of these jumbled thoughts, and good luck with whatever you are working on at the moment, I know you're probably working on something if you're reading through these tags. And of course good luck to the tma folk we're gonna face the end together🙏. good night (I should rly go to sleep now😂)

#the magnus archives #fanfiction #original character #self insert #discourse #literature #tma

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

Note

christmas frerard and/or petekey? preferably long? maybe? thank you so much!

Christmas Petekey happened last week but here’s the Frerard one! There's also a mixed ship one:

Christmas Fic

Frank/Gerard Christmas Fic

Christmas Is for Lovers by stoplightglow, 6k, Teen And Up. “I sort of—” Frank takes a deep breath, looks up, then swiftly drops his gaze again. “I sort of told her I have a boyfriend.”

G. U. Y. (Guy Under You) by Hangmans_Radio, 16k, Explicit. Illusion Press’ Christmas party was always a huge event. Every year the publishing house would book somewhere stupidly expensive, invite all the best-selling authors they had published and put on a completely open bar. The night usually ended somewhere in the early hours of the morning, at which point Frank was normally already gone with whoever had offered, to wake up several hours later and ride the subway home, hungover and smelling of another man’s cologne. He just never imagined that man might be his boss.

I wont ask for you for Christmas by cassandra_ml (meilxoxo), 8k, Mature. Frank's friends are mean and force him to sit on Santa's lap.

No Longer Dirty by happilyappled, 9k, Explicit. #8: Gerard comes back home for the Christmas season. He sees Mikey putting up one last picture and wonders why his brother doesn't hand it to him, but taking a closer look, Gerard understands. It's a picture of Frank, his mother Anne and her boyfriend, Clive. The living room is quiet while he takes it in and turns to face his parents. They don't say anything for now, and Gerard takes a glance towards Mikey, but he's looking elsewhere like he has nothing to do with this. Lastly, Gerard focuses on his grandmother and asks, "Frank's coming too?"

An Occasional Thing by OwlHooots, 7k, Explicit. Frank hated Christmas, but this year, Frank had Gerard.

Still Waiting For The Snow To Fall by empty_venom, 11k, Not Rated. Frank hates Christmas. Like, Frank really hates Christmas. So who's Gerard to change that?

Click by gerardtouchedthebutt, 7k, Explicit. Frank looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. “I missed that... That click you need to get with some people you know?” Gerard nodded and smiled a little. “I know what you mean about that click. That’s really important to feel if it’s gonna work I guess.”

Make Someone Happy by elle2706, 13k, Teen And Up. Gerard would never describe his life as Lifetime movie material, but somehow he ends up with Frank Iero as pretend boyfriend for Christmas Eve. And while all Gerard wants for Christmas is Frank; Frank has made it known he doesn't exactly feel the same way. Can Gerard get through the holidays without the burden of a broken heart?

Somebody Needs To Sing a Christmas Carol by ermengarde, 6k, General. Wherein the local store is personally persecuting Frank by not carrying his favorite soda and Gerard is (probably. HOPEFULLY) not a psychopath. A tale of Elves, veggie lasagna and gender essentialism in the run up to Christmas.

Merry and Bright by prophetic, 10k, Not Rated. The mall is weird, yes, but even it sometimes has moments of Christmas beauty.

There’s A Good Reason We're Under The Mistletoe Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought Of It Yet by orphan_account, 6k, Teen And Up. "Mikey. Mikeymikeymikey," Gerard says, flopping down on the couch with his phone. "Mm-hm," Mikey says. "Anything else?" "Mikey," Gerard repeats for good measure. "I'm screwed. What the fuck." There's a silence on Mikey's end. "What did Frank do now," he sighs finally. - Christmas teacher!fic, featuring horribly cliche fanfic tropes to suit your holiday Frerard needs.

Something About This Time Of Year by imessedupmyotherone, 7k, General. Frank Iero hated this year when he discovered he'd be stuck inside due to a broken leg. But all it seemed to take was a boy named Gerard to make the year a little bit better.

Santas Sack by Wescottwomen, 7k, Mature. Marry Christmas - Two simple words meant to wish good cheer but all frank could do was feel nothing but a bitter loathing for them and everything they represented to him. On top of all that he finds out he's betrothed to some guy he never met, and now at 4 am some asshole is coming down his chimney probably to steal his tv and maybe vomit more Christmas crap all over his crappy apartment!

All's Well That Ends Well by Merkey666, 8k, General. The day comes when Bandit can move in. This is the sappiest thing I have ever written, and that's saying a lot.

Even The Snow Falls For You by cemeterycoffee, 8k, Teen And Up. Okay, Frank is most definitely not Santa, but he did have a very good reason for breaking into the house.

24 Frames Per Second - How (not) to be Friends by Leandra, 25k, Explicit. This is a sequel to 24 Frames Per Second: The Belleville Fright Night Experiment of 1984 and it picks up 9 years later: It's 1993 and Gerard runs into Frank at the movie theater – where else? - after Frank returns from his 4-year stint in Seattle. While everybody around Gerard turns out to be a traitor siding with the enemy, Gerard himself wants nothing more desperately than Frank back... Features a pug puppy, a nasty fight, a near-car accident and a little baby-girl called "AnnieWay".

When did it stop being an act? by Frnk, 8k, Not Rated. "I'll give you fifty bucks if you come to Christmas dinner as my date and bluff your way through it."

#frank/gerard #christmas #fic rec list

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daysswithyou · 5 years

Text

See you

Characters: Young K x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Christmas themed!

Word count: 5.1k

Description: It's such a pity to part just like that, so I'll hope to see you again

Credits: @splendorten for giving me inspiration! And @hoodedsuns for the feedback! Also partially inspired by some events that happened to me this semester ^^

Prompt: Write something based on the last text you sent – was planning to meet a bunch of people after I got back from my trip to Japan and hence, “see you” :)

Author’s note: For the dearest @younghyuns-babygirl-24, (Belated) Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you! This is my fic – for you – for the Christmas fic gift exchange. As requested, Young K x reader with lotsa tooth-rotting fluff! XD I hope you enjoy this fic and in the new year, I wish you all the best in pursuing your dreams and let’s love the boys more together!!!

------

You don't fancy night flights. At all. Sitting in a cramp seat with little leg room for hours on end and waking up to sore shoulders and dry eyes was not the ideal way for you to spend the day leading up to Christmas. But...here you were anyways, trying your best to get comfortable in your seat with your bag nestled between your feet. You send one last selfie to your cousin as a rain check, letting her know that you’re safe on the flight, and that she should expect you in a few hours’ time.

You lift your eyes to observe the hustle and bustle of the aircraft as the crew gets the passengers ready for take-off; securing the overhead cabin, handing out hot towels and attending to the comfort of the passengers. You would have enjoyed this all a lot more if it wasn’t a night flight. You watch as an air steward makes his way down the aisle to do his final check, before stopping right beside you and addressing you fully in Korean. You gulp as he carries on talking, finding it hard to grasp a opportune timing to interject and let him know that you don’t understand a single thing he just said. You have zero knowledge on the Korean language and the best you could manage to convey your lack of understanding was to shake your head at the air steward.

Very slowly, you said, “Sorry, I don’t understand anything...”

You bow your head apologetically as a sheepish smile makes its way into your face and the air steward matches your equally puzzled expression as he sucks in a breath, a little lost as to how to proceed when he couldn’t communicate with you in a language that you understood. A few more moments lapse as both of you stare at one another, the silence now heavy and awkward.

Just then, a soft voice comes directly behind you and you feel your chair tilt backwards slightly, most likely being used by the person behind to hoist himself up. You cannot comprehend whatever the fellow passenger said (in Korean once again) but it must be good news to the steward as he immediately bows, a smile breaking out on his face, stepping back to invite the fellow passenger to take the spot beside him. You look up to observe the tall guy from your seat and you were met with pretty almond shaped eyes that were gazing down at you, the sides of his eyes crinkling slightly as the corners of his lips lift up; a small smile as a greeting.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me interjecting but I’m here to help as a translator since I assume you don’t speak Korean and the air steward is having a hard time explaining due to the language barrier. May I?”

“Please do, and thank you.”

After listening to the air steward for a short while, the mysterious male breaks out into a smile as you continue watching both of them in bated breath; did you do something wrong? Were you about to be kicked off the flight?

Your fellow passenger turns his attention towards you now, a warm smile lighting up on his face as he rests his clasped hands on the seat in front of you.

“Miss, there’s nothing to worry about. He just needs you to place your bag in the overhead compartment for the take-off.”

“Oh… oh! Right, of course.”

You scramble to unbuckle your seat belt so that you could stand to place your bag in the overhead compartment, not wanting to bother the air steward and your fellow passenger any longer. Yet, he immediately reaches out for you with his hands, keeping you in your seat as you lift your eyes from the dull grey of the seat buckle to meet his chocolate brown eyes again.

“I’ll help you, since I’m already standing.”

He gently extricates your bag from its place near your foot before placing it carefully into the overhead compartment, shutting it gently with a click.

“Enjoy your flight!”

“You too.”

Your eyes follow him as he makes his way back, and you stay staring at him for a couple of seconds more as he settles back into his seat, your breath catching in your throat as you contemplate getting his name so that you can thank him properly. But your shy nature eventually wins over and you shut your mouth tightly, turning back to face the unlit black screen of the in-flight entertainment system. The screen lighting up to life pushes the last lingering thoughts of the helpful and friendly passenger out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the safety video currently playing on the small screen.

---

You wake up just in time to see the hazy orange cabin light up brightly with white lights as the captain makes the landing announcement and you see the same air steward walk down your aisle again to do a safety check. When you catch his eye, you bow your head slightly, your face heating up slightly from the embarrassment just a few hours ago. The landing and disembarking proceeds smoothly and on your way out of the aircraft, you get your first good glimpse at Seoul. The sun is shining brightly onto the grey concrete tarmac of the airport runway and staff continue to rush around to ensure a smooth flight – even more during the holiday season. Despite the early morning, the sun never misses its shift and continues to shine its radiant rays onto Earth, warming the cold Seoul in winter just slightly. The streaks of sunlight are so brightly that even through the tinted windows, you were forced to squint your eyes to protect your eyes from the glare, and you eventually had to rip your eyes away from the sun, white spots dotting your vision now.

Soon, you found yourself walking past the glass walls of Incheon Airport’s arrival gates and very quietly, you whispered to yourself – “Welcome to Seoul Y/N.”

Eyes glued to your phone screen and luggage in tow, you hadn’t realised that you had walked into someone, rising your head to quickly apologise – but – you didn’t have time to get a word in before the person you bumped into immediately started selling his taxi services to you. You shook your head politely to decline but let’s just say that he was rather… persistent… You were almost about to give up and just follow him but a presence stepping up to stand beside you stopped you in your tracks, your focus now on the newcomer.

It’s him again.

After another round of fluent Korean, the taxi driver finally got the hint to back off and he immediately turned his attention to the next potential customer, leaving you to deal with the friendly stranger from the flight once again.

“You weren’t really about to take the taxi, were you?”

An embarrassed smile shows on your face for him to see in plain sight as you shake your head at yourself, finding it hard to meet his eyes.

“I really was. If you had came a moment later, I would be on the taxi now.”, you said as you jabbed a thumb towards the black sedan parked just a few metres away.

“It’s really expensive if you take a taxi from the airport to the city. I know a cheaper way and I could guide you if you’d like me to. Where are you headed for?”

“Myeongdong!”

“Oh! What a nice coincidence, I’m headed there too. Here, I’ll lead the way but, ladies first.”

With an open palm, he gestured to the escalator on his right. With a soft smile and slight bow of your head, you took a step in that direction and he soon fell into a comfortable pace beside you, initiating conversation again.

“I still haven’t gotten your name yet.”

“Y/N, it’s Y/N. What’s yours?”

“Younghyun or Brian – I’m fine with both so take your pick.”

“Well then, Younghyun, thank you for helping me out. Twice.”

“No problem! First time in Seoul Y/N?”

“Yup, here since my cousin recently moved with her family and as part of her housewarming plus annual family Christmas gathering, she invited the entire family over to celebrate.”

“You came during the right season – every city always seems more magical in winter, and especially so during Christmas. Puts everyone in a good mood, mostly.”

“I agree with you on that.”

Eyes glancing down, Younghyun catches sight of both yours and his luggage and he chuckles, catching your attention.

“What’s so funny?”

“I just realise that we have the exact same luggage, it’ll be really funny if we mix them up later.”

Swatting your hands in front of your face, you make a face as you exclaim, “Nah we won’t, let’s not jinx ourselves!”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

Younghyun pats his cheeks as a “punishment” and you have to stifle your laughter behind your palm because that was such an adorable sight to see. Both of you continued your walk and even during your short walk to the airport express, you could already feel the Christmas vibes. Christmas songs were playing over the public announcement system and almost every inch of wall or glass was covered in colourful Christmas decorations. Wherever your eyes wandered, you’ll catch a glimpse of the familiar fern green as cherubic Santa’s and cute deer nestled within them, the colourful Christmas bulbs and fairy lights serving as the final pieces, completing the decorations to truly bring forth the festive season. The warm fairy lights bathe Younghyun in a golden glow, making the mood very comfortable and soon, both of you were engaging in conversation with ease. You managed to find out that he was home for the holidays, being a foreign student studying overseas in Canada for his undergraduate degree. His days are mostly packed meeting friends and family that he hasn’t seen but he’s given himself some free days to explore the city that must have changed since he’s been away. You try extra hard to focus on Younghyun as he attempts to speak louder over the roar of the train travelling through the underground tunnel, going closer sometimes just to hear him speak. The train rattles violently just before it exits the tunnel with an extremely loud whoosh and in a split second, sunlight floods the entire cabin, lighting up everything instantly, bringing Seoul and all its colours into sharp clarity. Your attention on Younghyun is broken as Seoul’s cityscape vies for your attention – your eyes are naturally drawn to the buildings coming in various shapes and colours, bare trees – though void of leaves – that line the pavements as they continue to stand tall. All of these zoom by before you can fully take in their details, your eyes capturing brief glimpses into the lives of Seoulites – children dressed in the same colour code obediently following their teachers, elderly walking their pets, and adults still rushing to work despite the frigid winds that are currently ruffling their hairs and outfits. You could almost hear the familiar click of heels against the tarmac in your head. As you continue admiring Seoul with your sparkling doe eyes, Younghyun leans his head against the metal pole of the cabin, silently observing you with a sweet smile, thinking to himself: I’d love to show her around the city. It’ll be a privilege to see her face shine with awe at this city.

You sneak a glance at him from your periphery, feeling the slow burn of his gaze on you. Nervously, you let out a chuckle as your voice dropped to a whisper, “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face? Must be the flight, my skin is dull and dry now.”

“No, you look fine Y/N. It’s just really nice seeing you enjoy Seoul so much.”

After hearing his statement, you crack a smile as you shyly meet his eyes, glad that he wasn’t staring just because you looked ugly and you watch as Younghyun gives you a grin so radiant that it could rival the blazing sun – showing neat rows of teeth and all.

---

The Myeongdong stop arrives much too quickly for either of your liking and the pair of you had to drag your feet out of the train carriage, both equally reluctant to leave the other. Younghyun wrecks his brain for more ways to buy time with you and even though the solution he comes up with is one that is so extremely cliché, it’s the only thing he can do.

“Hey Y/N, are you in a rush?”

“No, not really, why?”

“How about we get drinks? Neither of us has eaten anything since the flight.”

“Sure. What place do you have in mind?” You reply him almost immediately, and you had hoped dearly that he didn’t catch onto your overly enthusiastic response.

“Holly’s Coffee. It’s a chain store in South Korea, thought you might like to give it a try. Consider it a beginner’s introduction to Seoul.”

“I would love to.”

And that’s how you found yourself in a neat coffeeshop with a handsome black wooden décor, the smell of peppermint, roasted marshmallows and hot chocolate all blending to form a sweet smell and adding to the homely vibe of the place. You watch the Styrofoam “snow” rain all over the snowman in the decoration on display right beside the cashier, completely mesmerised by the neat white beads falling down in unison. You feel a light tap on your shoulder, turning your head to be met by Younghyun’s eyes.

“What would you like?”

“Oh! Oh gosh I completely forgot to order, sorry about that. I’ll have the peppermint mocha please.”

“Really getting into the festive season now huh?”

“Yup! I truly do love Christmas.”

“Me too.”

You’re about to open your mouth to make another comment but your phone buzzing in your pocket steals your attention away from Younghyun again.

[Mom]: Where are you? Your cousin is asking for you already.

[Y/N]: Holly’s Coffee in Myeongdong grabbing a drink. I’ll make my way to her apartment later.

[Y/N]: Sent live location

[Mom]: Your cousin says she’ll come and get you. Order your drink as a takeaway.

You chew your bottom lip, feeling conflicted at the sudden news. You felt bad leaving Younghyun alone, but you also knew that the rest of the family was probably waiting for you to start the party.

“What’s got you looking so nervous?”

“Sorry Younghyun, but my cousin is coming to pick me up so I don’t think I’ll be able to sit and talk. I’m really sorry at the sudden change of plans…”

Younghyun wasn’t going to lie – his heart sunk at the thought of you having to leave so early as disappointment thrummed within him like a dull ache. Yet, he didn’t want to make you feel any worse than you already did so he gave you a big smile, just to let you know that it’s really alright.

“Hey no worries, I knew you were here for a party so I assume the entire family is waiting now.”

“Most likely…”

“Don’t frown, it’s really alright! Smile a bit.”

Using his index fingers, Younghyun gently pushes the corners of your lips up, only retracting his hands with an even larger grin gracing his face when he finally sees you crack a smile. The barista calls for your number and the right at the moment when the cold drink reaches your hands, chilling your freezing hands further, you hear the jingle of the doorbell and the familiar call of your name by your cousin.

“Y/N! Let’s go!”

You whip your head back to look at Younghyun all flustered, not expecting your cousin to arrive so soon which gave you much lesser time with him. You couldn’t even give him a proper goodbye or exchange numbers, not with your cousin standing expectantly by the door, waiting for you. Likewise, Younghyun faced the same struggle. Your cousin was standing and waiting by the door – does he make her wait longer as he gets your number? Or let you go now with a quick goodbye? He doesn’t consider for long and he lets instinct take over, going with the latter. Snaking an arm around your shoulders, Younghyun pulls you in gently into his side – a quick half hug as a parting greeting. Albeit shocked, you quickly recovered your senses to drape an arm around his waist, drawing him close by hooking onto his waist.

“Bye Y/N, it was great meeting you and enjoy your Christmas party!”

“Bye Younghyun and you too! Erm… whatelsedoiwanttosay… all the best for your studies in Canada and enjoy your trip home! See – ”

You catch yourself just before the word slips out of your mouth – were you ever going to ever see him again? Thankfully, Younghyun doesn’t seem to have heard, and the conversation flowed naturally again.

“I will.”

You quickly detach yourself from his side, cheeks burning now, aware that your cousin is watching this interaction with a teasing glint in her eyes. You’ll have to deal with that later in the car but for now – you content your heart by taking one last good glance at Younghyun’s face, not knowing if you’ll ever see him again. Hands clasping onto the cold drink tightly, you turn around to face your cousin, wheeling your luggage behind you as you leave Younghyun behind. After you get strapped into the passenger seat and the car moves off down the streets of Seoul, the expected barrage of questions come from your mischievous cousin seated right beside you.

“So… who’s Mr Handsome? Spill the beans honey~”

“His name is Younghyun. Met him on the flight here and he also brought me safely to Myeongdong via the subway.”

“OHHH~ Love is – ”

“No no, don’t get your hopes up in the air, nothing is going to happen. I’m just a tourist in this land.”

“You never know~”

You roll your eyes at her statement, she’s still ever the idealist with her head up in the clouds, dreaming of the impossible. But – why – does your heart sink a little when you shot down her idea of getting together with Younghyun? Were you really considering dating him when you had just met with no way to contact him? You stare at your open hand as you contemplate that thought – the same hand that wrapped around Younghyun’s waist just minutes ago – and warmth floods your cold body in gentle waves as your fingertips tingle, sending a light shiver down your arm. Your chance encounter with such a bright and friendly individual made the cold frigid winter warmer now.

If fate will allow, let’s meet again Younghyun.

---

You collapse onto the bed in the guestroom face first, not minding the fact that you were still wearing the same dirty clothes for the past 24 hours. A long flight, being passed around from relative to relative for small talk and a couple of glasses of beer, wine and dessert wine later, you were all ready to pass out. Blinking your eyes to clear away the tears from your umpteenth yawn that night (or should you say morning), you catch sight of your turquoise luggage. Leaving it unpacked was irking you out, so with much effort and a loud groan, you pushed yourself out the bed before shuffling over to unpack your luggage. When you first opened the luggage, you didn’t think much of the contents until you began pulling out clothing that were much too big for your body.

Did my clothing magically expand?

Flipping on the room lights, you finally were able to get a good view of the contents and your eyes widened to the size of saucers, eyeballs nearly popping out of your sockets. The luggage was full of male articles – belts, sweaters, pants and a shaver all sitting in plain view further confirmed your suspicions – you had really switched luggage’s with Younghyun; likely on accident during your haste to leave the coffeeshop. You immediately sifted around his clothing, searching for any way to contact him and – thank the heavens! – you found a small piece of paper in one of the zipped compartments bearing his name and number. You dialled the number quickly with nimble fingers, chewing on your nails nervously as you brought the phone up to your ear, desperately hoping that he had not changed his number. After 2 rings, the call finally got through and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hi, this is Y/N, right?”

“Yes. Younghyun?”

“Yes, you got the right man. I was wondering when you’ll call me about the luggage mix up.”

“Sorry it took me so long, I only realised now as I unpacked. When would it be a good time to meet tomorrow? Or do you need the luggage now?”

“Tomorrow would be fine – I rather not have a lady like yourself travelling the streets alone at such a late timing. Where would it be a good place to meet you?”

“Oh, I was planning to tour Apgujeong, would that be alright for you?”

“Apgujeong sounds good! Does 12pm sound good?”

“That sounds fantastic, thank you Younghyun.”

“Welcome Y/N. Rest well, you sound tired.”

“You’re absolutely right. Have a good rest too Younghyun. Nights.”

“Nights Y/N.”

A few more silent moments pass over the phone, neither of you wanting to be the first to end the call. You hear his slow and steady breathes over the phone and it sounds calming. A sense of peacefulness washing over you, a welcome respite from the whirlwind of activity that you’ve experienced today. Your eyelids start to flutter close, and you think you might be able to fall asleep listening to the sound of his breathing if the call drags on any longer. Younghyun finally breaks the silence with a chuckle, his next words bringing to mind the conversation from earlier today.

“I really jinxed us, didn’t I?”

“Jinx is too strong a word, I’ll just say you accidentally spoke it into existence.”

“I really did, silly me. So… goodbye for now?”

“Goodbye – for now.”

Younghyun ends the call first and you’re left listening to the dial tone before you put down the phone, placing your head in your unoccupied hand as you chuckle to yourself. Fate really does have a sense of humour, bringing such a twist to your wish to see Younghyun again. Glancing to the open luggage beside you, you sigh at yourself for making a mess of his belongings, standing up to pack his clothes neatly. Lifting one of his coats up, a piece of paper flutters out of the black pocket and upon closer inspection, you realise that it’s a ticket – for the lighting festival at the Garden of Morning Calm. Dated for 27th December. The date and place sparks off a thought within you that has you scrambling for your wallet, lifting the ticket out to confirm. You bring both tickets up to the light to compare them side by side, you realise that you were right – Younghyun and you had brought tickets to the same event on the same day. You didn’t know what you should do with this new-found information but if you could be brave tomorrow… something good might blossom.

You tuck both your tickets neatly into your wallet, praying for the heavens to grant you some bravery tomorrow.

---

Ever since 11.50am, Younghyun had been waiting outside the Apgujeong station, nervously tapping his feet against the pavement. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to see you again, but a part of him was also happy that he got to meet you again – although he wished it had been under better circumstances. A soft tap on his shoulder brings him out of his thoughts, and the moment his eyes land on you – the one he has been thinking of since yesterday – his cheeks naturally lift up, showing off the round apples of his cheeks. He blinks earnestly, taking a good look at you. Your cheeks are tinted a soft rosy pink – most likely from the cold – and you’re wrapped in a beanie, scarf and winter coat that made you look like a snug and warm dumpling. Younghyun has to try his hardest to stifle the squeal that threatens to escape him because of how absolutely adorable you look. How can someone have such an influence on him when he barely knows you? Your cheeks change from pink to red under his adoring gaze and wanting to no longer be the centre of attention, you whip out his luggage from its hidden spot behind yourself before presenting it to him with a “Tadah!” Younghyun lets out a hearty laugh at your antics – can someone get any cuter than this?

“I made sure to pack everything neatly into your luggage, nothing will be amiss when you open to check today.”, you said, patting his luggage to emphasise your point.

“Aigoo, thank you for packing them neatly for me. Rest assured, your things are in good condition too. How was the party?”

“Oh, not too bad – the usual you know. Being passed around, getting questioned about life and my relationship status, and too many cups of alcohol. I’m still a little woozy now, not sure if you can tell.”

Younghyun makes a hum of acknowledgement at your words before silence falls over both of you again – this needs to stop happening so often.

What do I say to her?

Do I ask him now?

Aish let’s just do it now!

Both of you open your mouths at the same time, then it became a mad scramble to let the other speak first.

“Ladies first.”

“No no, you first!”

“Y/N.”

“Younghyun.”

Both of you fix the other with a pointed gaze but Younghyun eventually relents, going first.

“Ok ok, I’ll go first. Y/N, could I get your number? Just to… stay in contact you know?”

“Sure.” You sound confident with your swift answer but your shaky hands that take over the phone from his hands betray you and he watches as you punch in your numbers wrongly a couple of times, having to redo it again and again but he doesn’t mind – he gets to see a different side of you – albeit a clumsy one that he finds endearing. Once you’re done, you hand his phone back to him as he brings the conversation back to you.

“What about you? What did you want to say just now?”

Your face heats up instantly, the two thin tickets sitting in your wallet weighing a ton now as your palms start to sweat despite the freezing temperatures. Carefully, you take his ticket out and pass it back to him but you don’t let go, even when he’s holding onto it. Your tongue darts out to moist your lips, inhaling a deep breath to let the cool air numb your nerves and thoughts. If you didn’t think so much, you might be able to work out the guts to actually ask him. It’s now or never Y/N. Go for it!

“I realise that you’re also going for the lighting festival on the 27th. I am too… and I was just wondering if you would like to go together? It’s completely fine if you don’t want to – ”

“If you would like me to be there, I would be absolutely delighted to go with you.”

Your eyes widen at his statement – he was actually willing to go with you! Your eyes light up like the star on top of the Christmas tree, shining radiantly for him to see.

“For real? You’re not joking right?”

“No, I’m not. But I’ll go on one condition…”

“Oh… what condition?”

You wait in bated breath as Younghyun lowers his face towards, going so close that your noses are almost brushing.

“I get to call that a date.”

You let out a puff of laughter at his statement, the fog emitting from your mouth brushing over his lips as they pull back to reveal pearly whites behind that hazy curtain.

“Is that ok with you Y/N?”

“Yes, that’s alright with me. For a moment I got scared there, I thought you were going to ask me to give you my first born or something.”

“I would make a joke now but I’m afraid of scaring you away.”

“Come on, hit me with it.”

“Really, you don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, yes I do want to hear it Younghyun.”

“Ok here goes, but don’t dump me after you hear it! I was going to say that you wouldn’t have to give me your firstborn because it would be ours anyways.” For good measure, Younghyun winks at you and your hands immediately fly to cover your face, trying your best to hide the massive blush that was now bursting across your face and muffle your rambunctious laughter.

“See! I said you didn’t want to hear it anymore! Are you afraid of me now? Come on, show me that pretty face please?”

His hands come up to gently wrap around your wrists, tugging at them softly until you’re willing to put them down.

“You’re not afraid of me now, are you Y/N? I’m still seeing you, tomorrow right?”

“No, just mildly shocked. But I must say, that was a pretty well-timed joke. And yes, you’re still seeing me tomorrow Younghyun. You’ll need more than that to scare me away.”

“That’s good. So… I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Yes, see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll call you again to settle the details.”

“I’ll be sure to pick up.”

It seems like the conversation has ended but once again, neither of you make the move to leave first. You shuffle your feet, twiddling your gloved fingers. Likewise, Younghyun was also working up the guts to do something that he’s been waiting to do since yesterday – but it’s just so hard to break through that barrier. You share one last shy glance with Younghyun before deciding it was time to leave, hands reaching out to grip the luggage handle – this time, the right luggage. Seeing you make a move to leave jolts Younghyun into action, and he surges forward to gently catch onto your wrists, pulling you back to face him once more.

“Before you leave, can I give you a hug? I want to do it properly this time.”

You smile as you nod, opening your arms slightly to let him and this time, Younghyun’s arms wrap around your shoulders properly, bringing you close against his chest as your hands hang onto each side of his waist.

Softly, he whispers into your ear, “See you tomorrow Y/N.”

“See you too Younghyun.”

Despite exchanging greetings, his and your hands still remain locked around the other, both of you gently swaying together as the first snow falls over Seoul, the perfect start to your winter love story.

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