#every time something happens you all emerge with your Big Think emojis

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

Person who thinks literally everything is a deep-state conspiracy: getting some real deep-state conspiracy vibes from this

[ceruleanmusings]

Big Time Returns - Mickames

continuing my posting of rewrites with season 3's big time returns! within my fanfic universe canon this is an important season for mickames because...james' feelings might not be so unrequited after all. 😏 enjoy! @partiallypearl @witchofinterest @raging-violets

-----

“Let me see if I can understand this.” As Katie spoke, she slowly slid her palms against the edge of the counter until she braced her weight up in a triangle-like fashion. Across the room she eyed James’ languid form, draped across the couch cushions, one cheek squished upwards, long arms brushing against the floor. “You met Mickey and immediately liked her. She didn’t really like you. You met Lucy and set your sights on her. She doesn't like you either. Mickey became part of your band. She still didn’t really like you but you try to be her friend. And then you went on tour and spent more time with Mickey and liked her again. But then she left tour halfway through and you started thinking about Lucy and called dibs. And now that you came back, you think Kendall keeps breaking a rule of dibs. But right before you came back, Mickey sent you a text saying she wanted to talk to you. And you’ve been trying to talk to her all day, but you’ve also been following Kendall around to make sure he doesn’t break the rule of dibs. Right?”

“Right,” James agreed. He lifted his arm at the word, jabbing his finger in the air in her direction and let it fall back against the floor. Squeezing out a large sigh, he added, “Girl chaos. It’s not a fun thing.”

Katie rolled her eyes. “This isn’t girl chaos, dummy! This is you being stupid!”

Ouch! Katie wasn’t one to mince words but that was going a little overboard. “Hey!” James pushed himself upwards, swinging around until he sat on the edge of the couch. “I know when I’m being stupid! This isn’t the same thing!”

“Yes it is.”

James made a face. Logan was right, she knew nothing about teen love or love science or anything. Clearly, she didn’t or else she wouldn’t think he was so stupid or think any of this was his fault. (Well, stupid about this issue anyway.) He had a big problem, and this was how she decided to help? He made a mental note to go to someone else next time. Like Buddha Bob. He seemed to be doing a great job with Camille and her Logan problem. “Whatever. You don’t know anything about guys.”

Katie scoffed. “Sure. But even if I don’t, I know about girls. And I know about guys being stupid around girls and you’re being stupid around them.”

She didn’t make a joke, but James laughed as if her statement was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Because it was. He wasn’t being stupid around girls. He never was. He knew everything he needed to know about girls. He could talk to any of them without a problem, win them over with a perfectly placed smile or wink, and get a date without trying.

…And it wasn’t that he was actually trying to win Lucy over or anything like that, it was the principal of the matter. He called dibs; Kendall needed to respect that. That’s why they had the rules in the first place. To stop all this chaos from happening. But Kendall being Kendall couldn’t leave her alone and had to keep talking to Lucy. And because Kendall kept talking to Lucy, James couldn’t talk to Mickey. He had to make sure Kendall followed the rules. But he also had to know what her text meant!

He’d been pouring over it day and night ever since she sent it. “Hey! Hope tour’s going well! Not much longer to the end. I want to talk when you get back.” Usually, her texts had some sort of emoji attached to it. Not this one. Not this time. Just straight and to the point: “I want to talk when you get back.” But talk about what? About her? About him? About them? Were they a them? Could they be a them? They’d gotten pretty close on tour and then, one day, she up and left. Granted, he couldn’t hold it against her due to it being a family emergency but…he was so close to something.

They’d spent nearly every day of tour up to that point hanging out, goofing off during soundcheck, tossing a frisbee around in the back lot before dinner, playing hide ‘n’ seek around the venue with the rest of the guys and the girls, and coming down for their post-show high laughing themselves stupid in the back lounge of the bus at old Jim Carrey movies. He had fun with her; liked trying to find different ways and things that would put that beaming smile on her face. It all came to a crashing halt and now…now…well, he didn’t know what happens now. And that was the problem.

Girls were an equation he always had an answer for; 2+2 equaled 4. But when it came to Mickey he may as well be trying to understand calculus. (Maybe that was a bad example because Logan seemed to understand calculus just fine.) For once, he didn’t have an answer.

Huh. Maybe Katie was right.

James eased off the frown which had been carved into his face the longer he sank into his thoughts. Katie stared at him, arms crossed, a single eyebrow raised. “Want to know what I think?” she offered when he didn’t say anything.

“…That you secretly like all this chaos because it gets them out of the way because you still have a crush on me?” James didn’t actually believe the idea but it was a good buffer to slow her down. And it frustrated her in a way that made a swell of satisfaction surge through him. What was the point of having an honorary little sister if he couldn’t mess with her? The flash of rage in her eyes followed by the disgusted curl of her lip gave him enough time to brace his feet on the floor and clasp his hands together and take a breath. He needed to be prepared, be solid for when she hit him with something he was sure to pack a wallop. Katie didn’t operate any other way. She may look delicate, but she was a wildfire underneath the guise of innocence.

“No”—James flinched against the razor-sharp barb of a word—"I think you’re scared.”

“Of what?” James asked; he managed a laugh, knocking the notion away before it stuck.

“Of Mickey.”

He scoffed. “I’m not scared of her!” Him? Scared of a girl who barely reached his chest, who took a week to talk to him after they first met, who watched the world around them like a hawk, who gushed over baby pandas, who seemed to be able to look right through him despite the gloss and shine he used to distract everyone? Yeah, right. Yeah…right…

“Then why haven’t you gone to talk to her yet?”

James waved his hands in the air, gesticulating wildly to the scroll hanging behind her. “The rule of dibs!” he nearly shouted.

“Which is giving you a handy distraction because as long as you’re focusing on this”—she jerked her thumb to her left—"you don’t have to go and talk to her. It’s like Schrodinger’s Cat.”

“Who’s Schroder and why does he have a cat? I thought he played piano.”

The audible slap of Katie’s palm meeting her face could have been heard all the way in Florida. “There is no cat!”

“But you just said—”

“It means while you’re not doing anything about your talk with Mickey, the outcome can’t be any worse or any better than it is now. But the thing is, you’re sitting in the in-between not knowing either way because you aren’t taking a chance. So you go for the safest option, you go for Lucy. And you don’t even like Lucy, do you?”

He chewed on his bottom lip, but not too hard; he couldn’t risk ruining any good photo opportunities in the future. And he spent a lot of time finding the right Chapstick to get them equally supple and hydrated at all times.

He did like Lucy in the beginning, kind of, but that had faded fast. She was something new to hold his attention. She fought back, laid her terms plain, made no ifs, ands, or buts about it. And maybe the chase was what got him to stick around. But he’d spent his whole life chasing after something: the dream job, the fame, the attention, the acceptance, the love. And while he reached some of those goals, at some point he got tired. And maybe with Lucy she made it easier; he knew how things would end with her. With a no. It was always a no. 2+2 equaled 4. He knew the outcome and didn't have to expect anything else.

“I’ve known you a long time, James,” Katie continued, “and I’ve never seen you like this. Which can only mean one thing: you really like her. So. My advice? Meet her halfway.”

James blinked. “Huh?”

Katie jerked her chin towards the window behind him. “She’s down at the pool. She’s been hanging around the Palm Woods all day waiting for you. Open the box, James.”

“…Are we still talking about Mickey?”

Heaving a hefty sigh, she pointed towards the door. “Just go!”

-----

James brushed his palms against his dark denim and tugged on the lapels of his striped button down. Not that he was nervous. Of course he wasn’t nervous. He was just going to talk to Mickey…after two months being away from her. How much could change in two months? Besides his new haircut. James whipped out his handy pocket mirror, turning his head from side to side to make sure it fell into place at the right swoopy angle. Which it did, thankfully. His hair was his armor, any stray follicle off center and he may as well expose himself like…like that dude in the story with the heel. Agamemnon? Or was it Nike? Nike had the shoes. Yeah, that had to be it.

Clearing his throat, he wiped his hands on his pants again, rolled his neck, stretched out his arms, and moved his legs forward in a casual stroll. Past the threshold of the lobby, the warm LA heat wrapped around him, energizing him like a battery. His stride lengthened and his muscles eased and he looked up and saw her and—shit. He quickly caught himself, after scuffing one foot against the other, and regained his composure in the blink of an eye. If anyone saw that, no they didn’t.

He quickly darted a look in Mickey’s direction; if she’d seen his little trip she didn’t react, keeping her head down and towards the magazine resting over her legs, crossed at the ankles. Her boots and socks lay propped next to her chair. The blue woven anklet encircling her right foot sat darkened beneath the sun, a bead of water hanging off the frayed end.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, James stopped next to her, shoved his hands into his pockets, thumbs pointing towards the empty loops on his waist, and rolled his shoulders back. “Can I sit?”

Mickey lifted her head, her hair parted by the large black sunglasses on her face. He pressed his lips together, hoping to read something off her but her body remained as loose as before. She motioned to the empty chair next to her. “If you want," she said with a light shrug.

James carefully sat down, keeping his eyes on Mickey. She dog-eared the page she’d been on, keeping her fingers woven between the glossy pages as James opened his mouth only for nothing to come out. He closed his mouth, let out a little laugh and tried again. Still nothing. Why? Why now? Words came easy to him when he talked to girls. Why did they decide to dry up around her? They were supposed to talk. Why couldn’t he talk?

“Busy day, huh?” Mickey asked and he nearly fell over at the force behind his relieved sigh. Her lips pitched upwards just slightly in the corners. It was a miniscule movement, but James noticed it. He always noticed her smiles.

“Yeah, it’s been crazy.” Oh how the word had been softened over the last few years being out in LA. If having Bitters chasing them around on a guided tour all about BTR was the craziest his day could get, he didn’t want to know what would happen next. It seemed the stakes got higher and higher with every passing week. Usually on a Friday.

“You’ve always wanted to be famous. Now you’re finally there. How does it feel?”

James tilted his head, his eyes casting skyward. “Well, it involves me running around in my underwear a lot more than I expected.”

Mickey shrugged. “I don’t think your fan club is all that upset about it.” At James’s questioning hum, she pointed over his shoulder. He barely glanced their way, seeing a blur of girls taking pictures and waving by the doors to the lobby. He turned back around, pausing at the soft crinkle to her brows. “You okay?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, it’s just…I’ve been trying to talk to you the rest of tour,” James said. “And now all day.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He had been, but he had something else to take care of first. Or so he told little ball of shame bouncing on his chest. Maybe Katie was right.

Mickey closed the magazine and tossed it to the foot of the lounge chair. It slipped through the cracks, not that she seemed to mind as she lifted her sunglasses. James sucked in a breath at the sight of her, at her face, free of makeup as always, at her long lashes, at her round eyes, dark as lush mahogany wood, at the freckles dotting her nose in such a way the sunlight made them appear to shimmer and shine, as if gold had been carefully placed into her brown skin. A galaxy under the light of day.

She swung her legs over the side of the pool chair, sitting on the edge of it, moving close. Their knees almost touched: James could count the ebb and flow of the waves of heat flowing between them, a current racing from knee to knee.

“I’ve noticed.” And that was so like her, to downplay his stops and starts. He’d almost gone up to her at one point, had caught her eye and flashed a smile and headed her way. But then he saw Kendall and Lucy and he derailed faster than Carlos chasing the ice cream truck. Man, he hadn’t been fair to her. “Seems important. Want to tell me now?”

James nodded. He’d practiced all tour what he’d say to her when he got back, how he thought about her a lot, how he missed having fun with her, how he didn’t realize how much he liked and needed her around, how being able to look behind himself during a show to see her with that smile of pride on her face punched up his energy during the midst of a show helped him more than she knew. But as he sat there, conjuring everything up, nothing felt right. So he said the first thing that came up from his heart. “Hey.”

The surprise on her face nearly bowled him over, it shifted over to a smile a second later, teetering up on one side. “Hey,” Mickey said back, her voice just above a tender whisper.

“Is everything okay? With your dad I mean?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said with a rapid nod of her head. “He’s good. Well, good as he can be right now, I guess.” Clearing her throat, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “He just, uh, woke up one day, couldn’t move his legs. It’s leftover from the spinal cord injury. He’d always had a problem with his legs after…after coming home. Y’know. Even with the amputation. So they brought him to the hospital to see what was wrong. But I mean, y’know, it could’ve been worse. He’ll be fine. He’s home, after everything, so…” Her mouth twisted to the side. “I’m sorry we couldn’t finish the tour.”

“No! Hey, no, it’s cool, we get it,” James said, shaking his head. “We wouldn’t have wanted to keep you girls there. I’m just glad everything’s alright.”

“Yeah. I, um…sometimes I feel like we should've been there for him the whole time. But my dad, you know, he wouldn’t want us to stay home by his side and fuss. But I couldn’t really stay at the apartment either so…that’s why I came here. I wanted to be around something…someone familiar. So....” Her lips parted, as if she was going to say something else, and James hung on the edge of a precipice, waiting. But she clamped her lips shut and leaned back, just slightly, averting her eyes, tugging on the ends of her hair. A cool breeze passed between them, or so James felt.

He nodded, patting his hands against his knees in a quick rhythm. “You wanted to talk to me,” he blurted out. Her eyelashes fluttered with her rapid blinks, her brain trying to process what he’d just said. Or nearly screamed in her face, to be honest. “That’s what you said,” he quickly added, “in your text.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Okay, so what about? Did I do something wrong? What’d I do? Was it the pie thing? You weren’t supposed to be hit by that! Gustavo was supposed to be the one coming into the dressing room!” James’ words fell out his mouth faster than he could stop them, roaring louder than his own thoughts at him to get a grip and stop rambling like an idiot.

“Noooo?” Somehow, she managed to drag the word out and make it sound like a question rather than a statement. Her nose wrinkled, the metallic blue hoop sitting in her left nostril—that was new, James noted—glinted beneath the sun.

“Oh. Was it about the time we locked you guys in the trailer? Because that was supposed to be a joke! We didn’t think Carlos would lose the key.”

“No.” She waved her hand. “That ended up funny anyway.”

“…Was it—?”

“James!” she cut in, holding up her hands, physically blocking his words. “I didn’t…I just wanted to talk.”

“Yeah. But about what?” Her head shook slightly, eyebrow raising, silently asking him to elaborate. Pursing his lips, he dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, quickly sliding past the lock screen, and tapping his messages on the bottom of his home screen. His messages pulled up and he skipped past the BTR group chat, the BTR and Mason group chat, his texts with Sammi (which mostly consists of images they swapped back and forth of fashion options), and the group chat of him, Carlos, and Mickey. His eyes briefly bounced down to the last text he’d sent to his mother, dated five months ago, but then they came back up and he tapped his texts with Mickey, holding his phone in her face as he pointed down to the last one. “See? You said I want to talk when you get back.”

“Right.” Mickey’s eyes lifted from his phone, to his face, back to his phone, and then she squeezed her eyes shut as she let out a pained sigh. “Ohhhh. Oops. See, I…okay…it’s…” Her shoulders bounced in a huff and she began sliding the dogtags around her neck on the chain; it buzzed along from right to left, left to right, over and over. “Lately I’ve just been…I’ve been trying to be more…direct. With things. Things that I want or need. To make myself more clear. When I sent that I meant…I want to talk to you. Like, I want to talk with you. And hang out. With you.” Her words trailed off and she muttered under her breath, something about needing to be even clearer. “Is…that okay?” she ventured to ask, breaking the hold stunned silence had on him.

Quickly he sat up straight, nodded his head, and replaced his shocked expression with one of carefully mixed smooth indifference and pleased preening. Underneath it all, his heart beat in a steady, buzzing thrum, shooting crackling sparks right beneath his skin. “Sure! Yeah! Totally okay! I can get us some lemonades and—”

“And you can tell me about the rest of the tour,” she finished for him. He pointed finger guns in her direction. He’d just gotten to his feet when she spoke his name so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. “I, uh, I missed you.”

All tension rushing out his body, a large smile bloomed on his face. “I missed you too.”

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x10 thoughts

GOOD GOD.

“No Weddings and a Funeral” is like being hungover but also coming out of a hangover. Having a terrible cold but also feeling better and appreciating every breath that comes through your nose. Embarking on an organizational project and accidentally falling into a photo album and crying about the pictures and organizing almost nothing tangible but making a few things more clear in your brain.

So much of this episode is about the AWFUL POINTLESSNESS OF DECORUM. How loud is too loud when you’re drinking stolen wine and shrieking about sex in a church right before your father’s funeral? How should you feel--thirty years later, as an accommodating, anger-averse person--about having been too angry to attend the funeral for your father who killed himself? What expression should you make when you show up really late to a different funeral? Why must you wear uncomfortable shoes just because someone died? What happens in your mind between standing up to give a eulogy for a man you’re still angry with and choosing to Rick Roll your mom and everyone else as an act of complicated love, humiliatingly incomplete until someone else starts to sing? Should you worry about your therapist seeing your normally tidy flat in a full-on state of depression mess? Is it okay to be offended that your boyfriend is so uncomfortable about death that he can’t stop making morbid jokes? Should you care about other people caring that you’re crunching an apple in church or squealing with joy to be reunited with a friend you’ve not seen in awhile? Are you obligated to explain your behavior if your kid doesn’t understand how you could stay with someone unfaithful? How far behind the counter should you sink when your [undefined relationship person]’s mother has just let you know she can see your dick through your underwear? Is a funeral reception an okay place to find a hookup? Is a funeral reception a decent spot for a break-up? Is a funeral reception a good time for a love confession when you know the person you’re confessing to is happy with someone else? And who do you make eye contact with when you can’t look directly at the person asking you if you’re okay when there’s so, so much about you she doesn’t know yet? Even if--for this tiny little moment within a vast swath of many okay and not-okay moments--you’re honest when you tell her that you are?

I fucking adored this episode because it answers all these questions very simply: Show up. Show up for yourself. Show up for your friends. Try not to harm yourself. Try not to harm your friends.

I love that this episode is about the messiness of adulthood and the things we bring with us from childhood and that it takes place partially in Rebecca’s childhood bedroom, and in Ted’s childhood memories. Dwelling in those places (whether physically or mentally) isn’t an automatic recipe for regression, but it does get everyone closer to the things that made them who they are, to the unresolved and half-buried parts of them that still make them tick today.

Forever obsessed with every single detail about Rebecca’s childhood bedroom.

Forever obsessed with Deborah’s decision to Rick Roll herself every single morning of her life.

Forever obsessed with Rebecca’s decision to Rick Roll her father’s funeral as a way to not have to make up a single word about her father and to do something very vulnerable and kind for herself and her mother and everyone.

Forever obsessed with Ted’s decision to Rick Roll Rebecca Rick Rolling her father’s funeral.

Forever obsessed with an entire found family backing it up.

I love that it is Isaac’s leadership that ensures every single member of the team attends the service for Paul.

I am very, very interested in Jamie’s love confession to Keeley because I do think it will spark some reflection in Keeley but I do not think it’ll go the cliched love triangle route.

Each scene with Rebecca and Sam struck (for me, a human being sharing a subjective perspective on the internet) the tender-awkward-beautiful-stressful chord I was hoping it would. I think it’s wonderful that Sam is honest with Rebecca about how difficult it is to keep their relationship a secret, and I love that Rebecca has a million mostly-unarticulated reasons for why she’d much prefer the secret to continue. I like that Sassy, Keeley, and Nora respond to the revelation as friends; they might be tempering their judgments in part because they’ve all gathered to bury Rebecca’s dad, but I don’t think their reactions would’ve been that different even on a happier occasion.

While there are a million and one different reasons why a continued relationship between Rebecca and Sam could cause serious ethical problems, I really love that when people share big news on this show, the people who care about them generally react by trying to see why the person is doing what they’re doing. Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t also hold each other accountable, but in my book it’s OK that Keeley’s first reaction was to feel happy that her friend is having some fun.

Also everyone has been making weird judgment calls this season, and this episode felt like a moment of real breakthroughs in terms of people telling the truth about things that happened to them and leaving themselves open to honest responses from others.

September 13, 1991. It’s so tenderly, beautifully, overwhelmingly meaningful that there’s still so much Ted and Rebecca don’t know about the things they have in common in these parallel lives they’re leading. The scene between Sarah Niles and Jason Sudeikis is so beautifully acted, and so is the scene between Hannah Waddingham and Harriet Walter. The way they intertwine to communicate that Ted and Rebecca basically lost the ability to trust their fathers simultaneously, from an ocean away? In the hands of lesser storytellers, it would feel too perfect a mirroring, but here it feels heartbreakingly imperfect. All the things they still don’t know. All the questions they try to ask each other. All the things they don’t dare ask yet. And then the storytellers are holding a candle up to all of it and letting the audience bask in the glow of this connection even if Ted and Rebecca can’t fully understand it yet.

I am so proud that Rebecca and Deborah were able to embark on the beginnings of a conversation about the ways Deborah and Paul’s relationship might have resembled or not resembled Rebecca and Rupert’s. It feels possible that they could get to a point where Rebecca truly internalizes her mother’s pride that she broke a cycle by leaving Rupert, and could maybe even understand why her mother made the choices she made. I love that in the final scene, they’re still relying on their old mother-daughter conversational patterns—the frustrations, the snippy shorthand, the passive-aggression. Mothers and daughters!

I am also proud that Ted—albeit via a joke about Sharon charging him for the house call—indicates that he understands the value of Sharon’s work. He’s changed a lot, all in realistic ways for someone who loves learning and really does want to meet people where they are and appreciate them. I’m very moved that instead of putting himself in a real harmful situation by showing up to the funeral on time at any cost, he did what he needed to do to take care of himself and accept care from someone else. And then Sharon’s suggestion that he think about things he loved about his father? And the way he’s able to share a positive memory of Rebecca’s own father at a time when she really needed it? Gosh.

Awkward, undecorous transition from 1991 to present-day incoming...but SASSY! She’s just, like, a whirling dervish of loyal friendship and not giving a fuck and penis size discussions and being casually, delightfully cruel to Rupert, who so deserves it. Rebecca was going on a real face journey when Sassy goes off with Ted at the end, and I’m sort of *eyes emoji* about all of that, but I continue to feel like Sassy is the most imperfectly wonderful friend-from-the-past kind of person and I love everything she and Nora get to do in this episode.

Keeley saying “That baby is whack” might be my favorite line in the episode? Maybe the whole show? Not really but really.

FUCK YOU, RUPERT. Bex and Diane, y’all are fine. And I truly feel for Nate...whatever scheme he’s getting suckered into. Whatever insecurity Rupert is preying on. I want Nate to go to therapy, too.

I feel like it was an unpopular opinion at the time, but I loved Rebecca’s 2x1 revelation about vulnerability and fear of getting hurt and needing to let someone love her. Sassy doesn’t always word things in the most nuanced way, but I think there’s a real possibility that she did ask Rebecca to really consider what it means to feel either safe or unsafe with a person but to know that in either circumstance, that person could end up causing her pain. Standing in that closet with Sam, managing to make it clear that she’s not asking for a break because she knows he will hurt her but because she has to figure out how to be with a wonderful person who could cause her pain...the growth, man. Makes me emotional.

I emerged from this episode feeling, of course, stunned by all the amazing parallels and revelations and beautiful acting and Rick Rolls and just, everything. I also emerged feeling sad/raw/tender because messiness and decorum and growth and coping mechanisms and death and dramatic irony and not knowing things about people and not knowing what you don’t know...it’s a sad, raw, tender place to be.

To quote a guy who got a whole sitcom (lol) named after him, life is real hard.

[tennessoui]

hello 👋 I was catching up on your tumblr like it's my weekly newspaper of choice and, um, if you ever fancied writing a snippet of obi wan getting the call after a concert about fire fighter anakin getting hurt it would be much appreciated 🥺

alright yes of course!!! i always try to give my asks whatever they want 🥺🥺🥺 here's a snippet of singer!obi-wan getting an 'anakin is hurt' call

(1.8k)

When Obi-Wan gets offstage, the first thing he does is check his phone. That’s what he’s been doing for months now, ever since he and Anakin started dating. It’s not like he can look at his phone onstage in front of all the people who paid to see Obi-Wan Kenobi, rock star. He has to wait, to not carry his phone with him at all up to the stage in order to triumph over the temptation of seeing what Anakin is doing right now, what silly thing he wants Obi-Wan to see.

It’s almost better like this. He gets offstage and he gets little presents from his boyfriend: horrifically cooked meals at the station, complaints about one of his coworkers’ new taste in music, awful jokes his sister has told him.

Tonight, there’s nothing.

He doesn’t think much about it though, not when he doesn’t have his boyfriend’s work schedule memorized. Sometimes the firefighters’ schedules shift on random days; someone calling out sick, someone available to cover a shift they weren’t assigned….It’s a big city, but a small firehouse. Obi-Wan isn’t worried.

Disappointed, maybe, that he doesn’t get to see Anakin’s twisted, disgusted face at Jesse’s attempt at dinner. Or his string of laughing text emojis to accompany a joke from Ahsoka. Disappointed, but not worried.

He chats with Kit and Quinlan the entire time back to his dressing room. The drummer thinks the opening song could use a little more rehearsal. The guitarist thinks it’s fine. Obi-Wan hadn’t heard anything definitively out of place, but he’s always alright with more rehearsal. He wants to give the best performance he can to the fans. It’s that simple.

He’s alone for a few minutes when he changes from his performance outfit into his normal clothes. It’s just after ten p.m.

He thinks about calling Anakin, as it’s only 8 in the evening in his city. Surely that’s too early to go to bed, even for a night off-shit. He thinks about it the entire time he’s changing into jeans and a t-shirt, the entire time he’s wiping off his stage make-up--nothing drastic of course, but just enough to be visible in the stage lights, just enough to look a little ghoulish in the warmer lights of the dressing room.

It doesn’t take much to break him, he’ll admit. He really, really likes Anakin. They’ve been dating for eight months now. He’s almost completely comfortable saying that he loves Anakin, but he doesn’t want to scare the other man off. Sometimes he thinks that everything he feels is too big and too dramatic for everyday life, that being in the spotlight from such a young age ruined him for anything private and selfish ever again.

But loving Anakin feels private, feels selfish. It feels right, amazing, like he’s a bandit robbing a small bank and just hopping on the train leaving town. It feels like he’s getting away with something he never should have even expected to have.

Anakin doesn’t pick up.

This too is excusable, as Obi-Wan hardly expects his boyfriend to wait by the phone, anticipating his call. Anakin’s messages during his concerts are gifts for a reason. They’re not mandatory, they’re unexpected.

Going into a serious relationship like this, they’d both understood the importance of their already established lives. Obi-Wan could no more give up a concert in favor of a call with Anakin as Anakin could go off shift and call Obi-Wan.

He packs the necessities he’d carried with him into the dressing room and looks around, if only to make sure he has everything and he’s not leaving too big of a mess.

Ahsoka calls him on his cell, when he’s halfway between his dressing room and the bus. He almost doesn’t pick up because he doesn’t have Ahsoka’s number saved into his contacts. But her city area code is the same as Anakin’s, and he picks up the call.

“Obi-Wan?” Ahsoka sounds like she’s half on the call and half not. “I couldn’t unlock Anakin’s phone, but I saw you were trying to call him.”

Obi-Wan pauses and leans against the wall. “Yes, I was,” he says slowly, his gut trembling with a bad feeling. “Why are you calling me, Ahsoka?” He hates sounding so abrupt, but he can’t help it. He needs to know. Perhaps Anakin is asleep, and Ahsoka is trying to ward off any further calls in order to let her brother sleep.

“Anakin’s in the hospital,” she says grimly and straightforwardly. Faintly, Obi-Wan thinks he can appreciate her no-nonsense attitude. She gets directly to the point, even though the point iis dangerously sharp.

“No,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, even as he slowly slides down the wall he’s against until he’s sitting on the floor. “No, he can’t be. I talked to him a few hours ago.”

“There was a call,” Ahsoka sounds so close to crying. No, Obi-Wan thinks. Impossible.

“But I just talked to him,” he says, clearing his throat. “I just….”

“There was a fire out on Temple Street,” she says thickly. “He’s in the hospital because a pillar fell on him. Trapped him in...in a burning house.”

Obi-Wan inhales sharply. If he hadn’t been sitting down already, he would have fallen to the ground. “But I--” I just talked to him, he thinks. As if it matters.

“He’s not critical anymore,” Ahsoka tells him. “But he’s still in surgery. Invasive, but. Not overly risky is what they told me.” She sniffles.

“I’m twenty hours away,” he says faintly.

“I know,” Ahsoka says into the phone. “I know. You’re almost on the other side of the country. But...they didn’t know to call you and I thought you needed to know.”

“I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Obi-Wan hears himself say. He needs to move. He needs to catch a plane. No matter expensive. He needs to get to the airport, get to Anakin.

Anakin’s hurt. Anakin needs surgery.

It’s Quinlan that finds him in the hallway, guitar slung over his back.

“Obi-Wan?” he asks, offering a hand out without explanation.

“Anakin’s in the hospital,” he says blankly, staring straight forward at the other wall. “He got hurt in a fire.”

“Then let’s get you there,” Quinlan replies instantly, pulling Obi-Wan up. “Come on. We’ll get you straight to the airport. I’ll tell the fans of the next concert.”

“We need to give them a refund,” Obi-Wan says distantly as he lets himself be led out to the tour bus. There are screams of fans, but it’s like he can’t even hear them. He’s underwater. Nothing matters as much. Nothing matters at all. Anakin needs surgery. Anakin’s in the hospital. Anakin’s hurt. He’s in the hospital. He needs surgery.

“We will,” Quinlan reassures him, leading him onto the bus. He tells the driver something harshly, quickly, and then not even a minute later, the wheels are in motion.

Anakin is in the hospital. Anakin had been hurt. He’d been in a building when it’d collapsed. How had Obi-Wan never even thought to worry about this? He worries about everything, but he’d never even thought of Anakin, of what Anakin’s career means. Sometimes he doesn’t get out. Sometimes Anakin doesn’t save the day. Who saves him?

Obi-Wan only realizes he’s making a weird noise with his throat when Quinlan clasps his hand. “We’re going to the airport,” he says with absolute surety. “We’ll get you to him, alright?”

Obi-Wan nods. What else is he supposed to do? He just talked to Anakin. He was fine then. How can someone go from fine to needing surgery in less than three hours?

He calls Ahsoka within the next fifteen minutes, as soon as it sinks in that this is happening. It doesn’t make sense, he can’t wrap his head around it, but it’s happening anyway. He’s ten minutes from the closest airport. Quinlan’s already got him a ticket. He’s coming. He’s almost there. He just...he needs to know Anakin is….that Anakin is……

“He’s still in surgery,” Ahsoka tells him softly. She sounds so small, so unsure. He’s only met her a handful of times, but he knows this tone does not belong anywhere close to her. “I don’t know, Obi-Wan. Please get here.”

Around the sixth hour after his concert ends, Obi-Wan cries. He leaves the official announcement to Quinlan, because he’s a coward. But he loves Anakin enough to type out a tweet anyway. It’s nothing too dramatic, nothing too honest either. There’s been an emergency. He’s sorry. He’s not sorry enough to not go, but he’s sorry enough to talk to fans. There’ll be a refund, maybe a rescheduling.

His entire life feels up in ends, but he talks about rescheduling. He doesn’t know what else to do. When the flight attendant tells him to turn his phone off, he puts it down until she’s passed by.

He looks out the window of the airplane and he can feel his tears soaking into his beard. Anakin is alright, he keeps telling himself. Anakin has to be okay. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Anakin isn’t okay.

It’s suddenly so amazingly clear to him that if Anakin were to--to not be alright--Obi-Wan’s life would never, ever be the same. Never. They’re intrinsically linked together. Why wasn’t he contacted when Anakin was first brought to the hospital? He needs to know this. He needs to know as soon as Anakin is hurt. He can’t stand the idea that Anakin had been injured halfway through his set, maybe at the end, maybe before it even started.

He needs to know as soon as it happens, if it ever happens again.

He never wants it to happen again. He never wants Anakin to be hurt, to be unresponsive, to be so far from him that Anakin’s sister has to let him know what’s going on.

He needs to be something different, something more. Something that makes everyone understand that he needs to be informed immediately when anything happens to Anakin, his Anakin. His….

Husband. Husband would work. If Anakin were to marry him, Obi-Wan would get preference to every medical incident experienced. Obi-Wan could be there. Yes. Husband

Husband.

Obi-Wan wipes the tears from his eyes slowly as he stares at the backside of the seat in front of him. Husband. If he were to be Anakin’s husband, he’d never be third in the information chain. He’d know immediately when something happens to his...to his husband.

Anakin could be his husband. Obi-Wan would ask him. It would make everything easier. It would mean Obi-Wan would know anything wrong as soon as it happened. He’d be the first in the chain of information.

He wants that, he decides as he cries into his airplane food napkin somewhere over the Great Plains. He wants to be the first. He wants to know. He wants to be there everytime Anakin wakes up from an injury. He wants to hold his hand.

Nothing else will ever make him feel any better. He needs it.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Moment In Time

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: None

Chapter 10 - Final Chapter

******

‘S.O.S’. 

Three letters make your heart drop to your stomach. They also make you jump off your couch, practically sprinting up the steps to your room. Throwing the closet door open you go straight to the back and grab your uniform, making quick work of putting it on and grabbing your equipment before you leave. 

Making a call to one of the men in your life who wouldn’t hesitate to look out for you, Nick Fury. He doesn’t waste a second arranging the transportation you need and in little to no time you’re saying a quick thank you to him as you walk onto the jet. 

Before you take off, you send a reply, ‘omw’.

Those three letters bring a smile onto Natasha’s face. She isn’t surprised that it only took half an hour for you to reply, in fact it’s one of the main reasons she messaged you of all people. 

Looking up from the watch on her wrist, she says,“ don’t worry fellas, we’ll be out of here in no time.” 

The two members of her team in the room look over at the redhead. She has a confident smirk on her face and that makes everyone curious. 

Given their current situation of being holed up in this single room in the base of their enemy as said enemy plans whatever it is on the other side of the door, they didn’t see much reason to be confident.

Steve huffs, hands planted firmly on his hips as he continues to pace the room as he tries to form a plan. Sam picks at a thread on his pants, no doubt waiting for a plan to follow. 

But one wasn’t needed. 

It took half an hour for you to reply and another hour before you got there. 

Your presence was first made known to Natasha. Her watch vibrates and she looks down to find a winking emoji on her screen. 

She rolls her eyes, holding back a laugh and stands up, preparing to leave. 

A moment later there’s a knock on the other end of the thick metal door. 

“Please stand clear of the bombay doors.” The voice is deep but she knows it’s you. 

Not saying a word, she steps to the far side of the room. Sam and Steve both frown, but follow suit. 

A faint hissing sound is heard, followed by a small but steady flow of smoke around the door, then it creeks before falling off the hinges. 

It slams against the concrete floor and you step through the dissipating smoke. 

Your eyes flick over the three people in the room and you smile.“ For a bunch of prisoners, you look good.” You tease, eyes lingering on the redhead. 

Steve walks up to you, holding his hand out for you to shake.“ I wasn’t expecting to see you on the other side of the door.” 

“Well I’m nothing if not unexpected.” You pat his shoulder.“ Now, let’s get out of here shall we?” 

The three follow you out of the cell and down the halls, noting the unconscious bodies of the guards they were previously walked past. Sam and Steve are close behind you, Natasha behind them. 

She finds it beyond adorable how your gaze continuously falls back on her. The look in your eyes lets her know you’re checking on her. 

Very reminiscent of the first day you two met, Natasha watches you work your way through this enemy base, taking down the few guards who interrupt your path. 

You stop on the way to get their confiscated weapons back and then you’re out of the building. 

A fire fight quickly approaches. Enemies pour from the building as you escape, each of you returning fire. Not a single bullet on your end is fatal but it definitely debilitates the targets.

One glance back however, reveals a group larger than you expected. It was like watching clowns climb out of their little cars. The facility didn’t look anywhere near big enough for all those people to be inside. 

“New plan. You three move ahead to the jet, I’ll lead them away.” Instant words of protest come from the three teammates at your words and you roll your eyes.“ We can’t keep running and lead them to our getaway. I’ll be fine.” 

With no room to protest, you break away but not before planting small explosives on a few trees ahead of you. You blew the charges, the trees falling and cutting the enemies off from following the three. 

You don’t get a chance to boast about that going just as you planned, because you quickly notice a presence at your side. When you look over you’re tempted to stop running. 

“Natasha what the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be with Sam and Steve.” 

Shots continue to ring out behind you, the hightech weapons your enemies have burn holes in the trees around you.

“Dammit.” You pull out your communicator, connecting with the jet you flew here and you’re pleased that Steve answers.“ I need you to bring the jet to me-” you pause and look to your side,“ to us.”

He doesn’t hesitate in agreeing. It takes much more running, some retaliation shooting, and a few more mini bombs. In no time you break from the tree line, a small group of enemies still on your trail as the jet lands a few feet away. 

You think you’re in the clear, your shots effectively chipping away at the few enemies who still come. But your foot is barely in the jet when Natasha gets hit. 

It’s like everything slows down. You watch her fall to the metal floor of the jet, her exclamation of pain is loud and clear in your ears, and once it’s over your heart pounds. 

Snapping back in an instant, you pick her up, quickly moving her to lay on the chairs off to the side as you shout for Steve to take off. 

You rush to grab a cloth big enough to cover her wound, then press it against said wound. 

“Hey Romanoff, keep those eyes open.” You pat her cheek, looking into her eyes as they already start to droop.

It’s unclear if she’s losing a lot of blood, the cloth doesn’t seem to be taking much on but she’s quickly drifting off as if she is.

You try your best to remain calm, watching her eyes flutter shut and not open back up despite you calling her name and shaking her. 

“Rogers, pick up the pace!” You don’t mean to shout like you do but your worry skyrockets. 

It doesn’t go away either. While it only takes a short half hour to get back to the compound it feels like forever. The wheels of the jet are barely on the ground before you’re opening the jet doors and carrying Natasha out. 

You rush her to the medbay, Dr. Cho and the rest of her team coming over instantly. She has you set Natasha on a bed and they roll her away. Dr. Cho asks you what happened after you tell her she disappears after Natasha. 

You’re left standing there, heart pounding as you wish more than anything that she’s okay. 

With nothing left to do, you step back into the designated waiting area and you sigh. 

What do you do when the woman you love is injured and rushed to emergency? You worry, and hope, and you stay by her side unless absolutely necessary that you leave.

Since the moment you landed you were right there in the waiting room, pacing back and forth while Natasha was in surgery, hoping with all hope that she’d be okay. Even after her surgery, having been informed that everything went smoothly, you were planted firmly in the chair right beside her bed once again hoping. 

You didn’t move, keeping her hand clutched in yours as you waited for her to wake up. Your worry, that had gone away when she came out of surgery, returned when she didn’t wake up. Dr. Cho said she was fine, minimal blood loss and they were able to use their fancy tech from Ultron to patch up the wound, so why she wasn’t waking up was lost on you.

As the team flows in and out of the room over the course of the passing hours, you know their suspicions regarding you and Natasha were coming to a head. 

They’d been speculating for weeks. Watching as Natasha and you snuck around. The two of you never slipped on the PDA side of things but they’d been around Natasha and you enough to notice something was up and connecting the dots became easier as they saw you at her bedside. 

It’s not until the second day of Natasha still being asleep that you leave. Steve coming in and telling you that you should go get some proper rest, freshen up, and that Peggy was asking for you. To you, the first two reasons aren’t good enough to leave but if Peggy was asking for you, you couldn’t ignore it. 

So reluctantly you do so. Heading home to take a quick nap, showering and changing, before you go to see Peggy. 

During your visit, Natasha wakes up. Wanda and Steve are in the room, chatting away as her eyes slowly open. The first thing she notices when her eyes adjust to the bright lighting is that you aren’t here. 

It’s odd because she swears you were, she could feel the weight of a hand wrapped around hers and if there’s one thing she’d gotten used to over the past ten months, it was the way your skin felt against hers.

“Wh-” she clears her throat and pushes herself up to sit, ignoring the slight tightness she felt at her side.“ Where’s Y/n?” 

Steve’s and Wanda’s gazes snap over to the redhead, their eyes widening as they realize she’s awake. 

“Nat, how’re you feeling?” Steve asks, moving his chair closer to Natasha. 

Wanda does the same on the other side of the bed, her worried gaze flicking over the woman who she’d grown to see as another mentor.

“I’m fine Steven.” She waves his question off like it’s nothing, her eyes moving over to Wanda who she assumes will answer her question.“ Where’s Y/n?” 

The younger woman frowns a little,“ she went home to rest and get clean.”

“Yeah she wasn’t keen on leaving you.” Steve adds, Natasha noting the knowing look he gives her.“ She stayed right there until earlier when I told her Peggy was asking about her.”

“And this is exactly why.”

Every head in the room turned to the door, eyes watching as you walked in with a bouquet of flowers. Nat immediately smiles, heart warming as she sees you. 

“Hey stranger.” You wink at her, finding your previous seat and laying the flowers on the bedside table.“ How are you?” 

She sighs, fingers twitching towards you as she aches to feel you touch now that she’s awake.“ I’m okay. Side is a little tight but it doesn’t hurt too bad.” 

You smile and nod,“ glad to hear it. Thought you were a goner.” You joke making her chuckle. 

Her eyes roll, a quiet laugh falling from her lips. 

The two of you keep your eyes on each other and Steve looks away as if seeing something he shouldn’t. Subtly he nods to Wanda, who has long since been aware of yours and Natasha’s relationship, and the two leave out. 

 Once they’re gone, you scoot closer. Like magnets yours and Natasha’s hands find one another, fingers lacing together and squeezing. 

“Next time I tell you to move ahead, you move ahead.” You say to her, not once breaking eye contact.

After having gone hours without seeing that beautiful green you refuse to look away. 

She shakes her head.“ We were under way too much fire, I was not leaving you alone.”

The corner of your lips quirk up at that, your heart warming at how much she cares for you.“ I could’ve handled Romanoff. What I couldn’t have handled was you being fatally injured.” Your expression shifts to something more serious.“ Not coming home with you, not telling you how I truly feel. And knowing I could’ve changed that outcome. I would’ve been crushed.” 

“That wouldn’t have happened because we had each other’s backs. We always do.” Her hand squeezes yours.“ And I’m right here. So there’s no reason not to tell me how you truly feel.”

It was a deep dive, a free fall even to try and get it out of you. Being in love with each other for ten months and not saying the words didn’t seem to make a difference when it came to you and Natasha. Not when it was shown in every action.

You both know how you feel, despite there being no labels on this or yourselves, it was clear as day that you love each other. But Natasha wanted to hear the words, almost as badly as you wanted to say them.

She watches you, the way your gaze drops for a moment and despite not seeing your eyes she knows you’re debating it. When you look back up she smiles because she sees you’re going to tell her. 

“I think it’s pretty obvious I’d been living in a limbo of sorts, stuck between my past and worrying about the future. But you, every second with you, I never once worried about those things. I’ve never felt a need to dwell in the past or worry about the future when you’re my present.” 

Her eyes roll in an overly dramatic way.“ Say the words Y/ln.”

You frown at her rushing.“ How bout you say them.” A teasing tone is in your voice, mixed with a bit of challenging. 

“Oh I will.” She counters.

“Do it.”

“You do it.”

A snort breaks through your lips and you shake your head.“ Knew you wouldn’t.”

“I love you.”

You smile, brighter than Natasha has ever seen.“ Was that so hard?” 

She drops your hand, more like throws it away and you laugh. A full on laugh, clutching your stomach and dropping your head back. If she weren’t pretending to be annoyed with you she would have smiled. 

“Hey,” you push yourself up off the chair, sitting yourself on the edge of her bed, and raising your hand to cup her cheek.“ I love you so much. And I have for so long.” 

Natasha bites her lip to hold back her grin, instead nuzzling her cheek against your hand. When the blush rises on her cheeks you pull her closer, pressing your lips to hers.

Both of you are startled out of your moment when Tony’s voice loudly proclaims,“ I knew it!”

Frowning, you look behind you to see not just him, but Wanda, Steve, Pietro, and Sam as well. 

“Eavesdropping, classy.” You say sarcastically, making to move away, only for Natasha’s fingers to wrap around your arm. 

“Lay with me.” She says and you raise your eyebrows.

“You sure?” 

Nodding, she scoots over and you don’t argue, sitting beside her and letting her press against you.“ They know now.” She shrugs, laying her head on your shoulder.

Tony nods, standing at the edge of the bed with his arms crossed.“ Yeah we do. And quite frankly I’m disappointed that neither of you told me.” 

With a quiet laugh, you wrap your arms around Natasha, listening as he accuses you both of keeping secrets. That just elicits Sam to do the same, Steve starts off on your side saying you have a right to privacy but eventually switches over as he wonders why you didn’t say anything. Wanda just smirks and laughs while Pietro questions what the big deal is. 

Admittedly it’s all very amusing and funnily enough neither you or Natasha are given the chance to answer since they all keep talking. 

While their chaotically mannered conversation proceeds you can’t help but think that at this moment in time, with the woman you love in your arms and your friends teasing the two of you, you feel happier and more at peace than you ever have.

******

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @ellobruv @ecruzsalaz

[karajaynetoday]

i'll be honest, it's better off this way | luke hemmings

image credit 

hello pals! long time no writing! i know it seems a bit weird to post a luke break up fic just after he got engaged but to be fair, I already had this in the works before the news broke yesterday, so soz not soz. It is kind of a happy break up story though... kind of? this one features lyrics from our song by niall and anne marie that are in italics throughout the piece (you know i love a song lyric incorporation lol) and i’m a bit rusty, so any feedback is welcome! a big shoutout to my dearest @notinthesameguey​ for beta-reading this one for me, you’re a gem blanca! enjoy xo

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings:  mentions of a break up and a car accident/hospitalisation (minor/non-graphic)

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

I'll be honest, I'm alright with me

Sunday mornings, in my own bedsheets

The break up with Luke had been easier than you’d first thought. It’d been months of growing apart, feeling like a stranger in your own home, before you finally worked up the nerve to utter those four words: We need to talk. He’d been spending most days and some nights in the studio, and you’d been working overtime at your job too; you were ships in the night who barely had time to say hello and goodbye, let alone have any sort of proper conversation. You’d spent an entire evening rehearsing a script in your head, and as soon as Luke walked through the door and greeted Petunia, you mustered the courage to stand up and speak your truth. 

It turned out that you weren’t alone in feeling stagnant in your relationship, and although you could feel your heart breaking as you said the words, Luke’s hand on your knee was all the gentle reassurance you needed. Just like always, even when your relationship was falling apart, Luke was there for you. And that’s what he promised, that night in the living room. It didn’t make sense for you two to become strangers overnight after 3 years together, but you also both knew that you needed space to grow and heal, and that space needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

You could tell that part of Luke wanted to fight it, wanted to raise his voice, wanted to convince you to stay. But part of Luke also knew that it was time to walk away, no matter how much his heart was feeling like it was being ripped out of his chest, because he did truly love you, and if he loved you, he’d let you go. 

Even though Luke insisted you could stay in the spare room for as long as you liked, it only took a week or so to find a new place. An apartment in KayKay’s building opened up for rent, and thanks to her help, you secured the lease and started moving in as soon as you could. Ashton accompanied you to Ikea and then helped with assembling a new bed and dining table for you, while KayKay helped unpack some of your boxes. You could tell that they were trying to be sensitive, but at the same time were desperate to know what went down in the break up, and after a few slices of pizza and half a bottle of wine, you felt the emotions rushing to the surface.

“It feels dumb to get upset, after all, I was the one who suggested we should break up.” You sniffled, smiling sadly as Ashton handed you a tissue.

“Just because it was something that needed to happen, doesn’t mean you can’t be sad about it. You two shared a lot in the time you were together, it’s only natural that it’s going to take you a while to untangle yourselves from one another and to get your head and heart back on the path that’s right for you.” KayKay spoke softly, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You knew she was right, and the healing would come; it was all part of the rollercoaster of walking away from someone you thought was the love of your life, but had turned out not to be. Time to adjust and find some independence, and re-shape the life you found yourself in until it was the life you wanted. 

But every time I think that I can get you out my head, you never, ever let me forget

Once you’d completely moved out Luke’s house, your reasons to contact him became few and far between. A few occasional texts to advise that he’d let his family know about your split, and a link to a new cafe nearby that he thought was your kind of vibe (and it absolutely was). Everyone in your friendship group was trying their best to help you both cope, but it was hard to avoid the awkwardness that came with a break up of close friends.  

You felt like you were walking on eggshells for a while, so you started to say no to invitations out. You threw yourself into a new work project, and barely replied to any group chats. Whenever your friends called, you had the perfect script rehearsed, about how you were going to be up for promotion, and after the next month or so, you’d have plenty more time for catching up with everyone. You were fairly certain that no-one believed your story, but you were sticking to it nonetheless. You’d seen photos online of Luke out and about with various beautiful women amongst the partying crew, and even though you knew better than to torture yourself with doom-scrolling through the internet, you couldn’t help yourself. You had to keep reminding yourself that it was YOU that wanted the breakup, and that it was for the best. Or something like that.

It was coming to the end of your big project, and the entire office decided to head out for celebratory drinks. You only stayed for a couple, because after a month of overtime you were ready for bed. Your boss took you aside to assure you that the promotion was yours and the new contract would be on your desk on Monday, and as you reassured him you were excited to take on the role, a song playing over the bar’s speakers made you stop in your tracks. You’d spent many a Sunday morning dancing around the kitchen making pancakes with Luke and singing these words; something you’d completely forgotten until this moment. As you stepped outside to await your Uber, the first person you wanted to call with the news was Luke. Your fingers hovered over his name for a good few minutes before your Uber driver honked and broke you out of her trance, and you settled for texting the group chat instead to share your exciting update. Lots of confetti and heart eyes emojis started popping up alongside congratulatory messages, and you let out a giggle when you saw that Luke had sent a photo of Petunia with “congrats!” scrawled across it in purple font. It was the last thing you remembered, before the squealing of tyres and your vision going black. 

Just when I think you're gone, Hear our song on the radio

Just like that, takes me back, To the places we used to go

The rhythmic beeping of the hospital monitors was the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake. The second was a dull pain across your skull, and the third was that your arm was in a sling. Fourth was the large, warm hand that was holding your own and gently squeezing; without opening your eyes, you knew it was Luke’s. You felt too weak to say any words, so instead you tried your best to squeeze back as you slowly opened your eyes. You heard a sharp intake of breath, before Luke’s smiling face came into view.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Luke asked, reaching up to gently brush some hair out of your eyes.

“Like I was in a car accident.” You managed to croak out, shooting him a wry smile and earning a laugh in return.

“You are correct, you can pass go, and collect $200. A pretty gnarly accident, the car’s a write-off, but thankfully everyone’s injuries are relatively minor. Some dickhead ran a red light.” You could tell Luke was trying to remain calm, but under the surface he was pissed.

“Not ideal, but at least I get a few days off work.” You joked, grimacing as you tried to sit up. Luke stood and gently maneuvered your pillows to support your back and shoulders better, and you felt a zap of electricity as his hands brushed your arms in passing.

As Luke sat back in the chair next to the bed, you suddenly realised that it was just the two of you in the hospital room. 

“No offence, Hemmo, but what are you doing here? Considering we’re no longer significant others, and all…” You said awkwardly, looking down at your arm sling with sudden great interest.

“Very observant, dear. Glad to see the concussion hasn’t affected your short term memory, I was worried you’d forget me entirely. You did, however, forget to update your emergency contact details, so I guess I was first on the list for the hospital to call. Ash, KayKay and I have been taking shifts but they’re out getting food right now - “ The rest of Luke’s explanation was cut off by a gasp and a cheer at the door, signalling Ashton and KayKay’s return and subsequent delight at you being awake.

The days that followed were uncomfortable physically, but kind of heartwarming emotionally. You got home to your apartment thanks to KayKay’s assistance, and found that your friends had stocked your fridge and freezer full of ready-made meals and your favourite snacks. They’d also made a roster so not a day went by without someone popping in to check on you, although you noticed that Luke never came by. 

Your recovery was slow but steady, and soon enough the doctors gave you the all clear. At this point, it was nearly 6 months since you’d broken up with Luke, and you could feel your mindset shifting. He was no longer the first person you wanted to call with good or bad news, or the first memories that popped into your head when you needed cheering up. It almost felt like… relief? Because for the longest time, even though you knew the break up was for the best, detaching yourself from one another seemed almost in possible after so many years of so many memories. 

I've been waking up alone, I haven't thought of him for days

I'll be honest, It's better off this way

The tipping point came at Calum’s birthday party, a month or so later. Ashton had invited you out for coffee and nonchalantly mentioned that maybe, possibly, well actually extremely likely almost definitely Luke was bringing a date to the gathering at Cal’s house; a girl he’d been seeing for a month or so. Everyone wanted you to be comfortable, and everyone, Cal especially, wanted you to be there, but they also understood if you wanted to avoid any potential awkward encounters with Luke and his new love interest. You assured Ashton that it would be fine, that you honestly weren’t bothered, and laughed off his suggestion of setting you up with a super hot blind date to help level the playing field.

The night came along, and you found yourself stumbling along Calum’s front path in the dark as you tried not to drop the gift you’d bought for him (a new cookbook and a collection of various hot sauces).  “Bloody 5sos and the “no good party starts until 11pm rule”, you muttered to yourself as you almost tripped over again, and you heard an indignant shout that sounded very Ashton-like behind you.

“Oi! Don’t be mad at us, you know that rule has never let us down!” Ashton bellowed, as he came forward with his phone flashlight switched on, KayKay not too far behind him.

“Damn girl, you like fiiiiiine!” KayKay said, letting out a low whistle. You rolled your eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. Your outfit was essentially a denim skirt and a t-shirt - maybe you’d sexed it up a little bit with some thigh high boots, tousled hair and a red lip, but all’s fair in love and war, right?

The three of you made it inside, and a very tipsy Calum greeted you with open arms and a lot of excitement at your gift of hot sauce. It felt so nice to be back with all your friends at a house party, like the old days, and you found yourself stepping out onto the back patio for a moment of quiet reflection and to share some pats with Duke.

You’d exchanged a wave with Luke when you’d entered the house, but hadn’t quite worked up the confidence to go up and speak to him, especially when he had his new girl in close proximity. She looked really friendly, though, and you could tell from the spark in both of their eyes that their relationship was blossoming in the best possible way. Part of you thought you’d be upset about it, but all you truly felt was content. Content in your life as it was, surrounded by friends that loved you just as much as you loved them, and actually quite proud of how far you’d come over the past year. You’d learned to stand on your own two feet, and you’d grown into a much more settled, independent human as a result. 

You were lost in your train of thought when you heard the song change on the speakers inside. Duke’s ears perked up and he licked your hand attentively when you stopped patting him as the song registered - it was your song. Or at least, it used to be. You felt a smile creep onto your face when you remembered the Sunday mornings of pancakes and singalongs, and the smile grew wider when you saw Luke’s girlfriend dragging him onto the dancefloor, much to his (fake) protests. You made eye contact with your kind-hearted, softly-smiling, gentle-eyed ex-boyfriend, and for a split second you saw a flash of concern cross his face. In response, you raised your glass in a cheers and shot him a wink, which earned a smile and a small laugh from Luke before he turned his attention back to the beautiful girl in his arms. You took a sip, and smiled to yourself. It truly was better off this way. 

When I hear it, I just can't stop smiling, I remember you're gone

Baby, it's just a song on the radio, That we used to know

Taglist: If there’s a line through your name, I couldn’t tag you, so please message me to let me know your new URL or what the go is!   @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicycal @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash  @another-lonely-heart @queenalienscherrypie  @becihadshawn  @allthestarsandthemoon  @oyesmendes​ @andrianawinchester @333-xx  @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @rbforsmileycal @myloverboyash @myhappylittleyoutubee @saywhatnow07 @secretsicanthideanymore @ar1analara  @killmywildflower​

[mylittleredgirl]

i haven’t shared a bullet journal update in a minute and i meant to, because i really liked last month’s.

kind of minimalist pink and black sophisticate meets lemonade stand, with a calendar shout-out to a well played game of snake. i had so much fun with this font all month.

on to june!

i have a situation happening: i have too many stickers. after 14 months of new sticker club stickers with no in-person students or coworkers or coworkers’ children to share with, i have an overwhelming amount of unused stickers and it is STRESSING me out, which -- i think you’ll agree -- is a pretty ridiculous problem for a grown adult to have.

to remedy this, i am going full 3rd grade diary this month:

stickers!!! and neon!!! as an 80s baby i had at least one tiny article of clothing in every neon color shown here. (note: that shooting star sticker on the calendar up there? my birthday! i accept ficlets, emojis, and pictures of baby bats.)

details & more stickers under the cut!

right now my tracker page is a little naked, because i’m going to add stickers and labels in the blank spaces as i fill in the month. the largest box is a sleep tracker (the horizontal axis is days of the month, the vertical axis is hours), above that is an energy/anxiety/migraine tracker, under the theory that if i jam the evidence into my eyeballs every month i will one day be like “aha! i will now go to bed every night at 9:30.”

at the top is something new! every month i have kind of a theme or experiment or something to see if i can fix my entire life -- this month i’m testing out my theory that i can only effectively devote energy to two areas of my life each day. it feels like it takes a different brain gear to garden than it does to work or even to wash my hair, and my brain can only hold one or two gears a day before it jams up -- if i hop on the work computer to send an hour of emails, then weed part of the garden, i might have 14 hours left in the day but if i try to then write fic or fold laundry it’s like 502 Bad Gateway Error.

so i divided up the things i want to / have to spend time on into five intuitive categories (the “home” brain gear seems to include both cleaning and errands, while “garden” or outside maintenance feels totally different; “life” is like a broad definition of self-care). i’ll track which ones i hit each day to see what patterns emerge. those categories also show up on the next page:

this is a new spread that i will forever think of it as the “boxes” spread, because last month i spent an ungodly amount of time drawing hundreds of individual boxes, and it turned out Too Ugly To Share. hooray for neon highlighters! this is not a to-do list, but a fill-in-the-blank worksheet, where i write in things i’ve done in each category until i fill it up. i’m clicker training myself! i do something like wash the dishes and get to write it in a box! last month i filled in just over half of it... i should do better this month since i cleverly took up so much real estate with stickers.

my weekly spreads are devoted to work, so i have one personal life & tasks spread for the month. don’t you love the iced tea sticker?? i put some big goal tasks for each of the non-work categories up there (it is RUINING me that i didn’t put the gardening tasks in green, i wasn’t paying attention 😭).

the first weekly page (calendar, work tasks, work notes, and more blinding neon). i will of course fill in more stickers among the notes as the page fills up because the goal of this month is to use as many stickers as possible until the little hoarder voice in my head stops saying “nooooo! what if you need that sticker for something else later and regret it for the rest of your LIFE?”

live life! use the stickers!!

[kindahoping4forever]

Watch Me Bloom: A Few Weeks Ago // Ashton Irwin

Thanks to everyone who read, shared and/or sent a kind word about A Few Months Ago. I’ve never divided up a fic like this before so it’s been both exciting and nerve-wracking, but I’m so pleased to see the response! 

The concept for this section came about early on but I revised and retooled it a lot so again, many thank yous to @cal-puddies​​ for the constant (and I mean constant) encouragement, reassurance and support that I require when writing, I know I was especially needy about this one. 😂 Also shout out to @ashtonangst​​ for the last minute notes and vote of confidence on the final revision.

No thanks to Ashton Irwin for distracting me, stealing my thunder and generally being a Gremlin TWICE IN ONE DAY. He’s the worst and I love him 😌

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash featuring the slightest hint of angst, unprotected sex within an established relationship, shower sex, mirror sex, playful spanking, wow there’s really not a graceful euphemism for tit fucking is there? Well there’s elements of that as well as oral sex performed on a male and brief cum play. But like. All in a soft, fluffy context lmao

Word Count: 3390

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You exhale loudly as you shut your laptop and reach for your phone. You’d arranged to take the morning off, wanting to be with Ashton when news of his album broke online, to watch the chaos unfold, to enjoy seeing him take in all the love and excitement you knew he deserved.

You were grateful to be working from home but it’s often difficult to get away and unfortunately, you woke up to calls about a work emergency, resulting in an unavoidable Zoom meeting that dominated your morning. Ash was understanding but you couldn’t help how disappointed you were.

You scroll through the messages from him, smiling at the liberal use of exclamation points and bizarre choice of emojis used to convey his excitement about the screenshots and links he’d sent you. He’s already getting press and the fans are losing their minds at every new piece of information. You’re thrilled for him but can’t shake how defeated you feel that you weren’t able to be there to experience it all firsthand.

You consider heading downstairs to check in but you note he’s probably getting ready to post his official announcement by now. Not wanting to disturb him, you instead decide to head for the bathroom, thinking a hot shower might improve your mood. You stop to answer one last text, reassuring him that (save for the spelling errors you corrected), the draft of his post is excellent and the fans will be ecstatic to hear him confirm the news.

You step under the rainfall shower head and stand still, letting the hot water run over your body, feeling your shoulders drop and your muscles relax. You close your eyes, enjoying the chance to shut off your brain after a morning of feeling so many varied emotions.

After a few minutes, you begin your routine and you’ve just finished with your body scrub when you hear footsteps shuffling through the doorway; you turn to see Ashton observing you through the glass shower walls. “Well, hi,” he greets you, tone flirty as his gaze flickers up and down your wet, naked body.

You can’t help but feel your mood brighten at his presence. “Hi,” you match his inflection, laughing. “All posted? Officially in business?”

Even through the slight steam you can see the pride on his face. “Officially,” he beams.

“Excellent,” you smile back. You turn away momentarily to return the sprayer to its mount and chuckle when you hear the shower door. Within seconds, Ash is naked behind you, slinking his arms around your waist and fitting his face into the crook of your neck, swaying with you as he presses quick kisses into your neck. .

“Just announced your very own album and yet you’re still gonna act like finding your girlfriend in the shower is the most exciting thing to happen to you today?” You tease, leaning back against him.

He laughs as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. “Even in the big moments, gotta take the time to appreciate the everyday ones,” he murmurs, biting gently.

You squeeze his hands as they rest on your hips. “Well, speaking of big moments, I still feel bad that I missed out on this morning, Ash,” you softly admit.

"Baby, it couldn’t be helped," he says nonchalantly, sweetly kissing your cheek before spinning you around to face him.

You’re not quite ready to meet his eyes, so you play with the chain around his neck as you choose your words. “I know, but… you’ve really made an effort with some of the stuff we talked about, like coming to bed with me or having dinner together. So I kind of feel like I’m not showing you the same courtesy - and for something so much more monumental,” you point out.

“Sweetheart, your work isn’t any less important than mine,” he frowns, brushing your wet hair off your face. “I know you wanted to be there and that means a lot, I don’t feel slighted at all, I promise.”

Ashton cups your face and kisses you sincerely. When you pull away, you rest your head on his shoulder; he pecks the top of your head and then reaches for the shampoo. You smile to yourself as you feel him begin to apply it to your hair. He gently taps you and you loudly smooch his shoulder before lifting your head and turning your back to him once again. He works the shampoo into a lather, applying just the right amount of pressure with his fingertips to give you a relaxing scalp massage.

There’s a cozy tranquility in the air as he grabs the handheld sprayer and rinses your hair out, cutely shielding your eyes when he comes close to your face, having learned from past showers gone wrong. Next he applies your conditioner and while it sets, you have him lean closer to you so you can wash his hair. It’s the longest and curliest it’s been since you’ve known him and you truly can’t get enough of it.

You can hear the smile in his voice when he breaks the silence to say, “You know, it’s pretty sexy that you’re so good at your job the whole company was ready to fall apart just because you wanted the morning off."

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened. I’m so glad you’re not threatened by my #GirlBoss nature,” you giggle. You scratch your nails over his scalp as you finish lathering his hair and the resulting groan has you absentmindedly biting your lip.

“Never! Plus it means less work for me,” he jokes, yelping as you tug on his hair in response.

You finish up with each other’s hair, chatting and joking easily. When you’re done, you burrow into his chest again and he hugs you tight against him. “You OK, love?” He asks.

“Yeah, just enjoying being close to you on your special day,” you answer softly, smiling as you trace the trail of water droplets running down his chest. “Wanna have something for us to remember it by, this is a nice start. Maybe I’ll order us something good for lunch, set up a fancy backyard picnic.” You lightly kiss along his collarbones as you think out loud.

Ash smiles, running his hands up and down your sides. “Sounds nice… we could also make a few memories in here.” He wiggles his eyebrows as his hands detour to grab your ass and pull you closer to him. “Feel like celebratin’, baby?”

You grin. “Ah, in a year where you’ve already gotten ‘new album sex’ and Jesus, how many rounds of ‘new single sex,’ you’re still playing that card?” You tease, voice wavering because his hands have wandered to your breasts to roll your nipples just the way you like. “Seems pretty greedy to me.”

He responds with a low, smug laugh in your ear, "Can't help it if I'm prolific, sweetheart.”  

“Well, I am happy to see you so frequently inspired," you tease, hand dropping to give his cock a firm squeeze as you proudly bat your eyes at your innuendo.

He smiles, pulling you in; it'd be sweet if there wasn’t such a devilish look in his eye. He gives you a lengthy and lusty kiss, hands roaming over your body, groaning as you work him to hardness. “Feeling pretty inspired to take you like this.”

He’s barely finished his sentence when he turns you around towards the shower door. You give a satisfied hum as you put your hands out to brace yourself and instinctively spread for him. “Aww, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. You shiver as he traces his fingertips all the way down your spine, starting at your neck and working his way down; once he reaches your ass, he uses both hands to cup it, squeezing and massaging.

You sigh and arch your back, jutting your hips out, wanting him to continue; a loud open palm smack lands across one of your ass cheeks and though you expected it, a half-gasp, half-moan escapes your lips.

He leans in to whisper in your ear, cock brushing against you. “Thought I was the greedy one here,” he teases, delivering a strike to your untouched cheek, followed by a pair of rough slaps to each side. Your whines reverberate through the bathroom while his mouth lavishes kisses along your shoulders, hands soothing the reddened skin of your backside.

His hands wander between your legs but you stop him, murmuring, “Don’t need it, want you enough already.”

Ash sweetly kisses behind your ear before pushing inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. When he's made it all the way in, without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes, finally,” which earns you another quick spank. You giggle, catching sight of his amusingly annoyed reflection in the mirror above the counter across from you.

He playfully nips your shoulder and thrusts into you. As he picks up speed, he notices you biting back a moan. He growls, “Uh-uh, let me hear you, baby, wanna know how good my cock feels inside you.”

You rock back against him, hoping it’ll earn you another swat and when it does, you whimper loudly. “Feels so fucking good, Ash,” you enthuse. Keeping your balance against the door with one hand, you straighten up to reach behind you and pull him in; he understands, movements slowing as he kisses you hungrily. You tangle your hand in his hair, giving it a tug and he grunts into your mouth.

One of his hands travels to briskly begin rubbing your clit; the pressure is like a jolt of electricity through your body and your hand drops from his hair back to the shower door to steady yourself. “Careful, love,” he rasps, other hand pawing at your breasts.

Nuzzled into him, you stay in that position for a few moments and he moves against you, occasionally pressing his lips to your face. You catch sight of the mirror again and become fixated on watching him as he carefully works your body: the way his hands work in perfect coordination to please you, how his hair falls in his face as he drives his cock into you, how his eyes screw shut and he fusses his lip between his teeth at the sensations of having your pussy wrapped around him.

It fascinates you to see the two of you like that, so loving but also driven by what seems to be a desperate need.  “Look at that,” you pant, stroking his forearm to get his attention. “Look how well we fit together… I didn't realize it'd look as good as it feels, babe.”

Ashton groans as he studies your reflection. “What a fuckin’ gorgeous sight we are,” he agrees, voice gravelly with lust. “You always look so unbelievable when I watch you take me, baby.”

You moan at how wrecked he sounds, how wrecked you look, the eroticism of your encounter overwhelming you. “I love seeing us like this, Ash… Fuck… Wish I could actually see it, see myself taking your cock,” you babble. “Might have to finally make that tape like we’ve talked about.”

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he whispers, fingers digging into your skin. You spread your arms further apart on the door and he smoothly sweeps them behind you, locking them into place with his. Restrained, with nothing to brace you, your front leans completely up against the door and you watch as your tits obscenely bounce off the glass as he speeds up, pounding into you.

You start breathing heavily and he smiles to himself, knowing he’s got you figured out. “Should I be nice and let go so you can touch yourself, baby? Or would that ruin it, since me holding you like this is what’s getting you off?” He taunts, grip on your arms tightening.

“So fuckin’ close… Ash… please… fuck, please,” you murmur, unable to take your eyes off the mirror, feeling yourself slowly tense as you watch him manhandle you, seeing yourself so debauched.

Ashton shifts your arms, pinning them back with just one of his, leaving his other free to roam down the front of your body. “Because you said ‘please’,” he smirks, rubbing fast around your clit. You whimper in relief and your head starts to drop down but he nudges it with his own. “Nah, baby, watch. Want you to see how beautiful you are when you cum for me.”

“Ashhhhh… babyyyyy… fuuuucck…” Your words come out in staccato sighs as you bounce between his body and the glass; his fingers are steady on your clit and his voice lowly encourages you, telling you how amazing you are, how much he wants to feel you cum. He sounds like he needs this as much as you do. You zone out a little as you pulse around him, watching yourself orgasm through the glass, and as always, it’s his soothing whispers of “so pretty, baby” that bring you back to earth.

He gently sets your arms back on the door, pressing soft kisses over your shoulders as you come down. His hips have completely stilled, waiting to see how much more you’re capable of handling. “You good, love?” He sweetly asks, studying your face in the mirror.

"I'm so glad I had to work today," you joke breathlessly. He snorts and bites at your neck.

You feel spent but a thought popped into your head while watching your reflection and you want to explore. “Up for trying something?” You eagerly ask.

“Of course,” he agrees curiously. You push off the door, allowing him to slip out of you and you turn towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I know I gave you shit earlier but it really does make me happy that this is how you like to celebrate,” you start, pecking along his neck and jaw, landing at his lips, which you kiss softly. “And I just want you to know I really am so so proud of you.”

Ash’s arms wrap around your waist and he smiles brightly. “I know, baby. And I’m so grateful to have you with me. Every step of the way, you were there to take care of me.”

You kiss him harder, filthier and needier than you did before and his resulting groan tells you he’s caught off guard. You feel him shiver under your touch as you ghost over his nipples before stopping at his new rib tattoo on your way to his abs and then finally gripping his cock.

“Well, I am absolutely going to take care of you right now,” you wink, dropping to your knees in front of him. He laughs at your questionable joke but quickly sucks in a sharp breath when you begin placing wet kisses along his shaft, whimpering as you taste yourself on him. You trace your tongue along the underside of his cock and circle the head for a bit before you wrap your lips around it and gently apply suction. You hear him huff a few times as you keep your attention focused there instead of taking him further into your mouth and you smile at his impatience.

He catches your look and shoots one right back at you. “Thought you were gonna take care of me, not torture me,” he smiles.

You let him drop from your lips and firmly tug as you look up, grinning. “I have a feeling when you're cumming all over me, you'll think it was worth the wait.”

He’s only able to gasp in response because as soon as the last word of your sentence leaves your mouth, you’re taking him as far down as you can. His hands are instantly in your hair, not quite pushing you down but gently applying pressure as you stay unmoving for a beat, holding him in your mouth, enjoying the heavy feeling of his cock on your tongue. You softly move your head back and forth, easing him further towards the back of your throat before you let yourself gag around him and pull off. You repeat this process a few more times, allowing more and more spit to fall from your mouth each time; knowing he loves when you get messy with it.

“Fuck, baby, always so fuckin’ good on your knees for me, always know just what I need” Ashton rambles, provoked at the sight of you pulling back to stroke him with a long, thick string of spit still connecting your mouth to his cock. You beam at his praise while he runs his hand over your face, somehow both tenderly and aggressively. “Gonna let me cum all over those gorgeous tits?”

You lean into his touch, mouthing at his hand a little. He takes the bait like you knew he would and pushes his thumb into your mouth, watching closely as you close your lips around it, swirling and sucking before scraping your teeth on it as he pulls it out.

"Is that what you want?" You ask, looking up at him with big eyes as you sit up higher on your knees. "I can also do you one better." You bite your lip in concentration as you guide him between your breasts, using your hands to trap his cock against your body and enclose him.

You've never heard anything quite like the sound he makes when you begin rubbing your tits up and down his shaft, a sound so throaty and new it makes you clench. You continue to massage his length against your breasts, your soft skin and the novelty of the act working in tandem to get him off.

You make eye contact as you spit on his cock and you feel it twitch on your chest as he moans. This fantasy has come up before, usually via sexting while he’s on tour but neither one of you had tried to follow through until now and judging by the noises he’s making, it’s living up to the expectation. You know he’s going to go wild when you breathily encourage, "Come on, babe, I think you should fuck 'em."

Ashton doesn't need to be told twice and immediately starts thrusting vigorously. He practically growls when you flick your tongue out to catch his tip on an upstroke, so you keep doing it.

"Jesus, baaaaby…" he groans, sounding positively undone, his pace unrelenting as he ruts against you. "So hot… fuck, so good…"

You grin at his incoherence, knowing he must be close. "Thought a special day deserved a special treat," you boast. "Ready to cum for me, babe?"

Ash acknowledges your words with a grunt, pulling away from your chest and putting his cock in your mouth again. You bob your head with intent to finish him and you know he's desperate when he gets a bit aggressive, pushing you to take him further down than last time. You've had him in your throat for less than a minute before he starts breathing heavy and pulls out just in time to shoot streams of cum all over your chest.

"Yes, baby… fuuuuuck… so fuckin’ good to me," he groans rhythmically in time with each spurt. You place the head of his cock on your tongue and milk out the remaining drops, revelling in his satisfied sounds.

He looks in adoration and disbelief at you, covered in his cum, clearly pleased with your work. He helps you off your knees and moves to kiss you when you press a finger to his lips, holding him off while you drag your other hand through the mess on your tits, delivering the substance to your mouth.

"God, I love you, baby," he sighs exhaustedly, kissing you passionately, groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. “This is so much more memorable than you sitting on the couch reading tweets with me.”

You cackle, pulling away to clean yourself off under the spray. "Well, I love you too," you coo. “Always happy to celebrate my man.”

Ashton grins and cradles you against him. “Good to know… I’ve got some ideas for how we can celebrate the second single coming out next week.”

You giggle and turn, wanting to see his face when you reply, “You plan that and I’ll take care of the celebration for your video premiere tonight?"

He pulls you closer and smirks, “Deal.”

————-

@mymindwide​​​​ @suchalonelysunflower​​​​ @pxrxmoore​​​​ @loveroflrh​​​​ @ghostofmashton​​​​ @sexgodashton​​​​ @feliznavidaddycal​​​​​​  

@castaway-cashton​​​​ @ashtonlftv​​​ @cashtonasfuck​​​​ @megz1985​​​​ @ashdork-irwin​​​​ @angelicfluffs​​​​ @findingliam-o​​​​ @abadaftertaste​​ @youngbloodchild​​​​  @irwinsbetch​​​​ @ashsun​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​​​

@wiildflower-xxx​​​​ @metalandboybands​​​​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​​​​ @realisticnotes​​​​  @makeamovehemmings​​​​​​ @golden166​​​​ @burstintocolor​​​​

@mfartzzz​​​​ @babyoria​​​​ @saphseoul @petunias-pet​​​​ @youngblood199456​​​​ @notinthesameguey​​​​ @seanna313​​​​​​  @zhangyixingxing1​​​​ @stardust-galaxies​​​​  @zackoid​​​​

@queenalienscherrypie @lovelybonesetc​​​​ @Obey-Kaylin @xsongxbirdx​​​​ @justhereforcalum​​​​ @calumftduke

@laura66sos​​​​ @calumrose​​​​ @karajaynetoday​​​​  @pilunb​​​​ @jazzyangel242​​​​ @babylon-corgis​​​​  @heyheyhaleyd​​​​ @calmsweetcreature​​​​

@spicycal​​​​ @talkfastromance4​​​​  @holystxne​​​​ @myloverboyash​​​

@meetmedowntown​​​​  @fedorable-killjoys​​

@irwindoll​​​​ @cheekysos​​​​​ @carrielfisher​​​​​ @lukedorkyhemmings​​​​​ @creampiecashton​​​​​ @lovelywordsblog​​​​​

@trix-arent-for-kids​​​ @uh-huhh-honey​​​ @tobefalling​​​ @aladyofalbion​​​

@likehuhdude​​​  @curlycalums​​​  @cxddlyash​​​  @reddesert-healourblues​

[winter-soldier-vibes]

I can’t be alone right now (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

“I can’t be alone right now”

Bucky barnes x reader

Word count 2102

Warnings: depression, self harm, panic attack

Summary: Bucky knows that the reader used to self harm, and tells them that they can come to him if they feel the urge. Usually they’re able to handle it on their own, but one day it’s too much to handle alone. 

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

You and Bucky were perfect for each other. You loved him for everything he was and had been through. You helped him whenever he had nightmares no matter how early in the morning it was. You had helped him get a lot of his memory back. And he supported you through everything too. He knew you battled depression and used to self harm. He understood that you’d have flare ups and relapses from time to time and made sure to never be angry with you about it. He made sure you knew you could ask him for help, no matter what time of day it was.

The two of you really did love each other. Everything had been going so well, which was why you didn’t quite understand why you would still want to hurt yourself every few days. You didn’t always talk to him about it for a few reasons. You could usually get through it on your own, and you didn’t want him to get too worried.

But something was different today, and you could feel it from the moment you opened your eyes.

You rolled over in bed to see that Bucky had already left for the day. Reaching for your phone, you saw a text that had come in from Bucky a few hours earlier.

Hey doll. Early morning training with Steve and then a team meeting not soon after. I’ll see you later today. Don’t do anything stupid until I get back. :)

You smiled to yourself. He had just learned about emojis a few months prior (thanks to you) and had recently started to use them. You layed back down with a huff. Something to you just felt...off. This kind of thing happened all the time, but today’s was hitting you differently. You could feel this anxiety building up inside of you, and from experience, you didn’t like where this kind of feeling could lead you.

You tried to control your breathing, not letting it get too out of control. You closed your eyes and clenched your fingers around the mattress on either side of you. You could do this - it hadn’t happened in a while, but you could get it together. 

After 10 or so breaths you felt it was safe enough to relax and open your eyes again. You wiped your face and groaned. This could be a very long day.

You didn’t really know how to explain your depression or anxiety. They don’t have a schedule, literally everything could be going right and you would still cry yourself to sleep or have 2 panic attacks in the same day. You didn’t feel like you had a right to be down or upset, which is why you avoided talking about it as much as you could.

And the most frustrating thing is that they travel in a pair. If you feel anxious, you’d sure as hell be expecting your depression to tag along. It was annoying really. But nothing you had found yet had been super helpful. Well, except hurting yourself, but that wasn’t an option anymore.

Or was it?

No. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the toxic thought that just crossed your mind. It had been months, there was no way you could hurt yourself now. And why would you? There’s no reason to be depressed or anxious, therefore no reason to hurt yourself. You sighed. You had dealt with these thoughts before, you could deal with them again. 

You pushed yourself out of bed and headed to your bathroom to take a shower. Despite wanting to stay in bed all day, you knew it wouldn’t help you, and that you should get up and go on with your day.

You turned the showerhead on and undressed, waiting for the water to get warm. You stood and caught a glance of your reflection in the mirror. You quickly turned away, but it was no use. The thoughts were already rolling it.

God your a mess

What is the matter with you? You should be the one in the gym not Bucky.

Why is he even with you?

“Stop,” you said out loud, to yourself. You shook your head and stepped in the shower. It was still cold but it helped put a temporary pause to your mind’s spree of worthlessness. You swear, if you could get a restraining order on your own brain, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You washed your hair and then reached for your razor to shave. Once it was in your hand though, your mind had other ideas.

Just do it

You’ll feel so much better

You deserve it anyway

You dropped the razor on the ground and turned off the shower, trying to move as quickly as possible to get as far as possible from the instrument. You couldn’t do that, not again, no matter how badly you wanted to. You quickly toweled off and went back into the room to get dressed. After which, you sat on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, trying to block out all the thoughts in your mind but it was no use. They came anyway.

You’re such a disaster

Bucky’s just being nice, he doesn’t actually love you

You’re a mistake

A waste of space

Why are you even like this? Your life is perfect

You should just do everyone a favor and kill yourself

No one loves you, and no one ever will

Who could ever love you?

When the tears started, you didn’t know. Your breath was hitching again, but it was too far gone by now. You curled up upon yourself, hugging your knees into your chest. You thought about how you could make yourself feel better with a few slashes, but you refused to let yourself

But it was right in the drawer next to you…

When Bucky had found out, he had taken all of your blades. Well, all of the ones you told him about. You kept one as a ‘in case of emergencies’ precaution. And you wanted to so badly, but you knew you couldn’t let yourself. 

It was so hard, knowing that something could help you so quickly and so easily, but knowing it’s the last thing you should be doing. There was nothing more frustrating than having the only thing you knew how to do to help yourself was actually hurting yourself.

You opened the drawer and looked at the knife. It looked so appealing right now. It’d be so easy…

You slammed the door shut and tried to muffle a scream with a pillow. Feeling a full on panic attack coming, you knew you couldn’t do this alone for much longer. You were scared to be on your own right now.

You unlocked your phone and went to Bucky’s contact.

‘Please tell me you’re not in the middle of something right now.’

Bucky, still in the meeting, looked at the message curiously. He replied,

‘In the meeting, but what’s up?’

You hesitated looking at the response. What if it was something actually important? What if they really needed him. But a few more seconds of thinking and you knew you couldn’t take much more before you gave in. You texted back

‘I really can’t be alone right now.’

Immediately Bucky straightened up in his chair before pushing it back. The team fell silent and looked at him. “Sorry, I have to go. Urgent.” Steve looked at him with concern. “Tell you later.” he said before he could get up.

Bucky could run fast, but he never ran so fast in his life. A million thoughts ran through his head of what you could have meant, none of them good. When he opened the door, he saw you breathing heavily, tears down your face, and a knife in your hand.

He stepped forward cautiously. “Doll, why do you have -”

Your eyes snatched up and you threw the knife away from you but still in the bed “Take this, please take it away, I can’t... “

“Okay, okay,” he stepped forward and took the knife, placing it on the dresser across the room. When he came over to you and sat down next to you, you started crying harder and breathing heavier.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You clung to his T-shirt, which was quickly becoming wet with your tears. “Shh, doll. I wanna know what’s going on, but I need you to breathe with me first, okay? Try to match me.” 

He breathed in deeply, and you could feel his chest expanding and contracting. You focused on the sound of his heart beating as you tried to match it. After a few minutes, your breath had returned to normal, but you were still unable to stop the tears or the racing thoughts in your mind. “Can I ask what’s wrong?”

You took a deep breath and shrugged. “I am.” “What do you-” “I’m the problem. Literally nothing happened. I just...I couldn’t stop thinking and then I couldn’t breath and then I wanted to…” you stopped, unable to finish your sentence. 

He rubbed his metal arm up and down your back. “Did you - you know…”

You shook your head. “No.”

He cleared his throat. “Are you sure?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He nodded, trusting that you hadn’t. “You know, sometimes things like that just happen. They sneak up on you and take you when you least expect it.” He pulled back, so he could look you in the eye. “It’s not your fault, it has absolutely nothing to do with you or what you do. Sometimes it doesn’t even have to do with the things around you. Sometimes things like this just are, and that’s okay.”

You nodded, looking away, now embarrassed by the whole scene you had just caused. “I’m sorry Buck. i shouldn’t have interrupted the meeting.”

“Hey,” he said, guiding your chin so that you would look at him again. “Don’t you ever apologize for this kind of thing. I told you whenever, wherever, remember?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” you sighed, not wanting to tell him how often this kind of thing occurred.

“Just what, y/n?”

“Just that usually I can handle this kind of thing on my own,” you said, a little more firmly than you intended. He dropped his hand and looked like you had just hit him. “What do you mean? How often does this thing kind of happen?”

“Forget what I said -”

“How often?” he said more sternly

“It’s not a big deal -”

“Yes it is. Now tell me.”

“Buck -”

“Y/n.”

You sighed again and crossed your arms. “I dunno, a few times a week I guess?” you said, unable to look him in the eye.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked softly, despite being furious with himself for not noticing.

“Because like I said, I never have a good reason. Everything’s perfect, you’re absolutely perfect, everything in my life is absolutely perfect except for the thoughts that run through my mind. And that’s the one thing in my life that I can’t control. Anything else goes wrong, I can fix it. But myself?” you shook your head and met his gaze again. “I can’t fix that.”

He wrapped his arms around you again. “The thing is, doll, you don’t have to. I’m here to help you the same way you help me every day. Let me return the favor. Please, I want to help.”

You nodded into him. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” he said. He cleared his throat again. “Are there any others I should know about?” 

You furrowed your brows and looked up at him. “What?” you asked.

“Blades,” he said.

Realization slapped you across the face. “Oh, yeah, sorry, uh...no. No there aren’t.”

“You swear?” he asked.”

You nodded. “I swear.”

“Okay, good. I’ll take care of that one in a few minutes. Right now I just want to be with you.”

You laughed a little. “Well, I’m happy to oblige. You did leave me with an empty bed this morning, after all.”

He smirked at you. “Well, maybe we should fix that, huh?”

“Sounds good to me. Movies?” 

“I’m down for that.” he said.

Halfway through your first movie, cuddled up on each other, you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, Buck.”

He pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you too.”

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Charity

[ Chapter 2 ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

A/N: Man, this took a helluva lot longer than I thought it would. It also ended up being a helluva lot longer than I thought it would, despite what I said on the last chapter. Oops. Hope y’all like long fics ^^’ Tagging: @devintrinidad

word count: 3k || warnings: n/a​

Since arriving in the Devildom, you’d been perpetually busy. 

Whether baking with Luke or shopping with Asmo, reading with Satan or snacking with Beel, practicing magic with Solomon or playing body pillow for Belphie, going to class or doing mountains of homework-- it was always something, and it always added up to a very full schedule.

Today was no different. Lucifer had insisted on keeping you until you were practically asleep in his study last night, only relenting because you had class the next day. And it wasn’t as if you could fall asleep when you got back to your room-- you had things due tomorrow, and a full schedule to try and get back on track of.

You’d mostly succeeded on the homework front, even finishing with enough time for a solid 4 hours of sleep that night. The pre-class D.D.D. tutorial you’d promised to Simeon happened right on schedule, and you successfully stayed awake for your entire first and second periods. You snuck out of third period to help Asmo with his latest fashion emergency, then managed the rest of third and fourth period without a hitch. You spent lunch listening to the newest anime-oriented drama from Levi, then attended the last of your classes. A text popped up from Beel just thirty minutes before school was over that he made a mistake, and needed your advice. You went ahead and offered to help clean the kitchen, already guessing what had happened. Overall, it was a pretty standard day.

Well, standard or not, once you’d gotten back to your room-- and finished cleaning up the wreckage that Beel had severely understated in his messages-- it was late, with a lot left to do. You opened your door, mentally blocking out how much time it should take to complete everything. Your math left you confident that you could get 4 hours of sleep again tonight, maybe even 5 if you really focused. You set your backpack down, feeling better, and flopped into your desk chair. The second your butt hit the cushion, you felt your D.D.D. buzz from your pocket.

You groaned, head hitting the desk with a soft ‘thunk’. Didn’t your phone know that you were busy?

As if it could hear your thoughts, the device vibrated again, eliciting a sigh. Pity party successfully waylaid, you dug your D.D.D. out of your pocket and checked the notifications.

It was a string of texts, all from Mammon. First he asked what you were doing, then where you were. The next one said to forget both of those; he needed you to come help him with homework in his room. When you hadn’t answered fast enough, he began to spam you with angry emojis.

He was acting like a brat, but that was his version of begging. He was always struggling in his classes, and your tutoring usually helped; you couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his grades. And so, ignoring everything you had to do, you decided to help him. After all, isn’t that what being a good friend is all about?

You stood up, tossing your backpack on again. If you factored your study session into your schedule, that would put you at 4 hours of sleep tops. No, the likelihood it would only take an hour was slim; probably 3.5 hours of sleep. Another text-- make that two-- made your D.D.D. buzz again; both demanding you reply, the second saying you didn’t have a choice in whether to help. ...Maybe 2.5 hours.

Your first knock on his door was met with silence, and you briefly considered leaving to do your own homework. But no-- you came to help, you should help.

“Mammon?” You tried again, knocking louder.

“Finally! Get in here already!” He yelled through the door.

Mammon was on his couch, backpack tossed a good ways away from him. Though he had a textbook on his coffee table, and plenty of papers scattered across the surface, he didn’t seem to be working on anything specific. It didn’t help that he was upside-down on his couch; his legs thrown over the back cushion and head hanging off the front. It wasn’t the typical doing-homework pose, but far be it from you to tell what Mammon was thinking.

“You sure took your time!” He tossed his D.D.D. to the side, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

“I walked straight here when I got your texts.”

“Yeah, well, you should already know when I want ya here.” He huffed, then practically fell off the couch amidst his panicked backpedaling. “Not-- Not that I want ya here, I mean! The Great Mammon doesn’t want some human around, crampin’ his style! I just--!” He rolled into a normal sitting position, the redness in his face no longer the result of being upside-down. 

“You wanted my help with homework, right?” You tried to throw him a life raft, but it went right over his head.

“What? Homework? We had homework!?” He asked, now looking frazzled for a different reason. You took a deep breath, briefly wondering how this scatterbrain remembered to put pants on every morning.

“Mammon, why did you ask me to come over?” You finally asked, trying to get him back on track.

“I asked… oh! Yeah! I uh…” He glanced at his table, a mess of papers that he hadn’t looked at since dumping them out of his folder. He looked back up at you expectantly. “Mc, do you have any money?”

...Oh, so that’s what this was about. It was hard not to feel disappointed that he had lied to get you here, but at least he got right to the point. “Yeah, sure, what happ-- ah, whatever. How much do you need?” 

You reached for your wallet, hoping to just fork over the grimm and go back to what you were doing. He hadn’t asked in a while, so this was probably legit. Probably. He would promise to pay it back, with every intention of doing so, and then forget to, or run into more debt. It was a vicious cycle; you were happy to not be a part of it. Well, at least it was nice while it lasted.

“What? No, that’s not-- ya shouldn’t be handin’ out money like that!” Mammon nagged, effectively freezing your hand in midair. If he didn’t want money, why was he asking? “You don’t needta give your stuff away to people just ‘cause they ask, that’s how people take advantage of ya!”

At first, his behavior didn’t make sense, but the gears started turning on what was going on. You shoved your wallet back into place, trying not to sound as exhausted as you felt. “Is this because of Lucifer?”

“Lucifer?” He echoed, confused.

“You know, his whole idea of giving you guys a week to…” You gestured vaguely, not wanting to say ‘teach me to sin’ for multiple reasons; “uh, talk to me?”

“Whaddya mean Lucifer?” He sounded affronted at the thought. “It was MY idea!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

“You thought of this?” It was surprising, but you felt inclined to believe him. He didn’t like to admit that he cared; he wouldn’t suddenly lie about being worried enough to bring it up to his brothers. Either way, as sweet as it was, good intentions wouldn’t save your grades. But maybe if he had gotten you into this mess, he could get you out of it. At the very least, he might be able to get you out of today’s lecture. “Mammon, I really appreciate it, but I don’t have time to--”

“Exactly! Ya never have time!” He launched up off the couch, flinging his arms out dramatically as he spoke. “You’re always givin’ it away to everybody else! Just like your stuff, and your grimm! Do ya ever even spend anythin’ on yourself?” 

“Of course I do.” You replied easily. He made it seem as if you were emptying your pockets for anyone who asked. You weren’t some human piggy bank, you bought yourself stuff all the time.

“Oh yeah? When’s the last time ya bought somethin’ for yourself, then? And food doesn’t count! Neither does stuff ya need for school, or takin’ care of yourself. When’s the last time ya bought something just ‘cause ya wanted it?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“I, uh…” That was a lot of rules. You tried to flip back in your mind. You weren’t exactly a big spender; certainly not since you’d arrived in the Devildom with so little time to work for extra cash. To Mammon’s point, you could only think of things you bought out of necessity. A snack when you didn’t have time for lunch. A new pair of shoes when yours were falling apart. Some toiletries when you needed them. A new uniform when your jacket was torn beyond repair, and you didn’t want to bother anyone about it.

“But you’re always buyin’ stuff for others!” Mammon let your thoughts wander enough to make his point, but he had to cut in eventually. “Remember how I usedta ask for money all the time?” 

“I mean-- it’s been a while.” It was a meager attempt at defense, but it was true. You couldn’t remember the last time he came to your door, brown-nosing his way into your pockets.

“Yeah, well, when ya first got here, you gave your grimm away freely, always buyin’ stuff for people-- so I thought ya had a buncha money. Then I heard Lucifer sayin’ ya don’t have much, and you were sayin’ ya wanted to save some, so I stopped askin’! But nobody else knows, so they keep askin’, and you keep givin’ it to ‘em! I know you don’t have stuff to be givin’ away either, I’ve been through--” He caught himself before he admitted it out loud, but you were well aware of the fact that Mammon had rooted through your stuff at the beginning. He had stopped at this point… you hoped. “No one here wants to take advantage of ya, but they don’t know they’re doin’ it. Ya gotta tell people not to ask for so much-- I mean, I’m the avatar of greed, and I feel bad takin’ your stuff! I bet the others would feel the same!” 

It was hard to tell whether he cared more about your financial situation or about making his brothers feel guilty. “I think--”

“Don’t even get me started about your time!” Mammon didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, advancing towards you as he ranted. He didn’t realize he was doing it; the action a subconscious result of his rising emotions. You took a few steps back, but soon bumped into furniture and had to stop. “You’re always busy, and ya got tons’a homework, but ya never say no when people ask for help! Do ya even have time to be here right now? Or do ya have somethin’ you could be doin’ instead?” 

It was a fair point, but hard to take from the one who’d brought you here. “It’s fine, I like to help out.”

“Help yourself out!” This was the second time within 24 hours that you’d gotten chewed out for not taking proper care of yourself. There was a familiar churning in your gut-- a leaden mixture of guilt and anxiety. Not to mention a dash of adrenaline from being within range of an angry demon. That last one happened a lot around here, though. “Try sayin’ no to people once in awhile! You stretch yourself too thin and eventually there’s gonna be nothin’ left!”

Mammon finally took a breath, letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled. He averted his eyes, his voice much softer when he next spoke. “Besides… I miss ya, Mc. You keep givin’ away your time, and overworkin’ yourself, and all of a sudden… I never see ya anymore.” 

His gaze flitted back to your face, and it finally dawned on him just how close he’d gotten. He was nearly pinning you against his pool table at this point. His face turned bright red, and he leapt backwards, crossing his arms to maintain his pride. “A-Anyway! You don’t owe anyone anything. So stop acting like it.”

“I don’t act like--”

“Oi, and don’t interrupt the Great Mammon!”

You rolled your eyes, but conceded. He had been difficult from his very first text tonight, it was probably easier to just humor him at this point.

“Ya play therapist for the house all the time. Ya mediate fights, listen to people’s problems, give out advice when you’re asked-- even when ya don’t know what to say. Maybe it’s about time ya let us know when ya aren’t up to it. I mean, no one's gonna fault ya for takin’ a vacation day.” It wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it conveyed his point well enough. “The house has been a lot calmer since ya got here. Everybody knows it-- you do too, dontcha?” 

It was true that you’d been complimented on your demon-wrangling skills by many people before. ...Including the brothers, oftentimes. “Well, yeah, but you guys should always be able to come to me. I want to be there for you.”

“Well I wanna be there for you, too!” Mammon blurted, looking desperate. Well, until he realized what he said, his expression then switching to panic as he frantically backpedaled. “I mean-- we do! T-They do! Or-- everyone else does, but I-I’ve got better stuff to… Ah, what am I sayin’? We all wanna be there for ya, Mc. But that means when ya have a hard day, and we ask if ya have time... ya gotta say no. How would you feel, if ya learned that we all forced ourselves to be around ya?”

A pang of guilt shot through your chest. “It isn’t like that; you guys aren’t a burden. I want to help--”

“Yeah, and I wanna sell Levi’s expensive shut-in stuff for extra cash, but sometimes ya gotta think about what ya wanna do versus what ya can do. I’m not very… I mean, I dunno about uh, emotions and... all that, but…” Suddenly Mammon’s tsundere thing made a lot of sense; he was a lot better at denial than candor. “Well, ya can’t help us if ya can’t help yourself!”

Again, he had a point. This time he wasn’t being a hypocrite, so it made it harder to come up with a rebuttal. “Everyone has bad days, I don’t have to shut people out whenever I’m not at one hundred percent.”

“Man, you sure are lucky Lucifer has a soft spot for ya. All this back talk would get me in hot water.” Mammon sighed. “Just listen to me for once, wouldja?”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. He chose to interpret it as a yes.

“I know ya wanna have some free time. And I know ya wanna keep some of your money saved up, whatever it’s for. Well… If sayin’ no is hard for ya, maybe we can start ya off with a test drive.”

“A… test drive...?” Nope, he lost you.

“Y’see, I’ll take the fall tonight. I’m gonna say we’re studyin’. Or that I’m still givin’ ya my peace. But… go back to your room, do whatcha want. Don’t matter what-- homework, sleepin’, whatever. Just don’t let anyone take it from ya. Matter’a fact, if someone asks for ya: practice sayin’ no. If ya gotta give ‘em a reason, tell ‘em it’s my fault.” 

“You sure?” He was essentially offering to be your guard dog for the night, which was quite a monumental task-- especially since people already assumed Mammon was at fault for things in general, and wouldn’t hesitate to take their anger out on him.

“Yeah, yeah; just don’t go and think I’m gonna keep doin’ this forever! Ya gotta learn to say no on your own, without me havin’ to do it for you all the time! I got goldie to worry about, I don’t need another credit card overspendin’ itself and-- w-well, I just don’t wanna haveta deal with it if ya run outta money and come cryin’ to-- oi!” You wrapped him in a hug, able to feel the shock run up his spine at your sign of gratitude. 

“I-I toldja, I ain’t doin’ it for you!” Mammon protested, but near instantly caved; stealing the chance to hug you back. He puffed out a defeated breath, adding, “I’m gonna watch out for ya human, I mean it. I wanna make sure you can keep gettin’ better, so… If ya ever gotta turn someone down in the future, or tell ‘em no for any reason, and ya can’t bring yourself to do it… You can always tell ‘em it’s on me. I’m your first man, you can always depend on me to help ya out.”

“Thank you, really.” He held you for just a beat longer before he relented, switching back to his brusque demeanor the moment he let go. 

“Yeah, yeah, keep thankin’ me and you’re gonna waste all your free time before it even starts. Get outta here already! I got stuff to do too, y’know.” He waved you off, but he was refusing eye contact for a reason.

Leaving Mammon’s room, your steps felt light, and a rush of warmth flooded your chest as you recalled his praise. Sure, it was followed by nagging, or saying it wasn’t always good for you-- but it was definitely nice to hear that the brothers really did think of you as their confidant. 

You stood a little taller; almost as if you felt a sense of pride.

[geekywritings]

JUNGKOOK X READER PART 2 - Is this real life or am I in a drama?

Part 2 of my little Jungkook x Reader story. For all who need a recap of Part 1: You are a young vet, just trying to make your way home from work when suddenly Jungkook falls right into your car, taking refuge from a group of sasaengs. You give him a ride home and he exchanges contact details with you, promising to stay in touch.

The prompt for part 2 is: “It’s pouring rain, why are you here?”

For the next few days, all you could think about was that meeting. It still seemed so very surreal. And you didn’t even dare tell anyone about the incident, because who would really believe you? Even your best friends and work colleagues would just raise and eyebrow and shake their heads most likely. Such things simply didn’t happen to people. They were part of k-drama scripts or popular web toons and after a week, you did start to wonder if it had all been some kind of strange dream.

But exactly that evening, when you had just come out of the shower to enjoy a cup of tea and a new episode of your favourite show, your phone beeped with a new Kakao Talk message. You gave your phone a lazy glance and then almost dropped your mug when you saw it was from none other than Jungkook.

JK: “I’m sorry for the late reply, Miss Vet. Things got kinda hectic. But I have not forgotten my promise. I still owe you that thank you.”

You had to reread that message a few times and for a second you wondered if it was a scam perhaps, but who else would now about that event but him? For a second you wondered what to answer before typing:

Y/N: “No problem. You are an idol after all. And you did already thank me.”

It took only a few seconds until his answer popped up.

JK: “It still doesn’t feel like enough.”

Wow, did he know how cool that sounded? 

Y/N: “You don’t have to worry. Really. I’m glad I could help.”

This time he took a bit longer to reply.

JK: “Do you like flowers?”

Y/N: “Yes of course. Who doesn’t?”

JK: “Which ones are your favourites?”

That one was harder to answer. You liked quite a few and just named them all, allowing him to make the final choice.

JK: “Great. Can I send them to your workplace? I don’t think florists deliver late in the evening.”

It was sweet that he was so dead set on sending you flowers as a proper thank you and while part of you was delighted, the other part wondered how to explain the bouquet to your colleagues at the vet office. Still, you typed in your adress and sent it out. 

From then on you thought the conversation would end, but apparently Jungkook was in a talkative mood. He revealed that he had a free evening and was just relaxing on the couch with a good meal, before asking you what you were up to. You told him about the drama and he suggested watching at the same time, sharing comments through text. 

You had never done anything like it before, least of all with a stranger, but Jungkook seemed so nice and it didn’t feel so intimidating to write with an idol over messages. And after the first few shared comments, you actually started to really enjoy it. You two ended up talking throughout the entire episode, which was almost an hour long and then even half an hour on top until Jungkook announced that he was heading to bed. Noticing the time, you realized it was time to hit the pillows yourself. 

But as you laid there in your bed, you kept reading through the chat history, as if making sure it was still real. Especially that “Goog Night” with the cute little emoji brought a smile to your face, before you finally turned off the night light.

____

For the next two weeks, he kept writing texts every other day. Sometimes it was just a random “How are you?” or a comment to your recently posted Kakao Story that he didn’t dare post publicly. But sometimes he would ask if you were watching that drama again to share comments in real time. It had become kind of a ritual when the third week started and a day without his messages felt weird. You still couldn’t tell anyone about it, but your friends and colleagues did start noticing your smiles and your eager grabs for the phone. But whenever they teased, you just said it was some guy online. Their would never believe the truth and you didn’t want to put Jungkook in trouble either. You had seen how crazy his fans could be, so the last thing he needed was your chats to become the topic of online gossip. Besides, it was kind of exhilarating to have a secret like that. At this point, you had already totally forgotten about the flowers.

During the fourth week of knowing Jungkook, you were staying late at the clinic, taking your regular night shift to take care of your little patients. You had just made your rounds, giving all the animals their medicine and checking on their bandages, before sitting down in the reception area, in case of emergencies coming in. But it was a super quiet evening, so you took out your phone. Almost on cue, a message popped up: “Finished work?”

Y/N: “Nope, having a night shift today.”

JK: “Oh, sounds tough.”

Y/N: “Not really. It’s quiet tonight.”

Nothing came after that and you put the phone away again, turning your head to the entry, the glassdoor giving you a perfect view of the rain shower outside. It really was coming down hard today. Bored, you took another round visiting your furry patients, giving them an extra round of cuddles. Suddenly the sound of the door tore through the hallway and you were quick to place the cat with the broken paw down to go and check on the new arrival.

You were utterly stunned to see Jungkook standing in the half opened door, dripping wet and with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand. 

“It’s pouring rain! Why are you here?!”, you exclaimed, approaching him with a shake of your head. 

“Well, florists dont deliver at this hour.”, he said cheekily with a shrug. “So I came personally.” 

He held out the dripping bouquet to you, which you took gratefully, enjoying the heavy fragrance of the flowers.

“You really shouldn’t have, but thank you. They are gorgeous.”, you said, sending him a smile, before inviting him to the staff room. 

“Let me make you a tea and grab you a towel.”

“You got coffee instead?”, he asked, running a hand through his hair. It had changed color, you noticed, though you also instantly thought that you prefered it black. 

A few minutes later you came back with a small towel and a steaming cup of coffee, taking a seat across from him at the small table. The entire room was tiny, but it was enough for the team.

“So this is where you work, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s a good place. It has nice people and I like how we truly take our time for each patient.”, you explained. You knew that not every clinic was like that, having done internships elsewhere during your studies. 

“Aren’t you busy though?”, it was now your turn to ask him a question.

“I am most nights, but we do get our time off as well.”, Jungkook replied. “Our agency is a good place too.” You nodded, having read up a bit about Big Hit since your meeting with one of their idols. You also realized that you did know and enjoy quite a few of BTS’ songs, even though you had never been able to put a face to them. Now you enjoyed them even more.

“Do you want a tour?”, you asked, after a minute of silence fell between you, during which Jungkook tried to dry his hair. He agreed with a nod, before following you around. There wasn’t much to show, but he did spend some time in the patient rooms, giving the animals some pets and cuddles. He was good with them, you notcied and they seemed to like him in return.

“You have two cats at home, right?”, he asked, his hand still stroking a fat tabby, who was at the clinic because of stomach problems. The owner insisted something was wrong with him, even though you had determined that he just needed a change in food and a consistent diet. 

“Yeah, Mr. Paws and Pogi.”, you replied. “I got them both from here, when the owners didn’t want them anymore.”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you, one of his eyebrows raised. “People do that?”

“Sometimes, unfortunately. Mr. Paws has a missing paw, ironically. We had to amputate it and the owner thought his cat would need special treatment because of it. And Pogi just needs regular medication and special food.” Small things really, but some owners just couldn’t handle it. 

“I saw pictures of them and I never notcied the missing paw.”, Jungkook said.

“I don’t make a point of making it the focus on pictures.” 

You ended the tour back in the staff room, where Jungkook took his coffee for a few sips, the drink instantly helping to warm him up. 

“I have to miss our drama this friday.”, he suddenly announced. “So you have to give me detailed updates or at least a good summary.”

“You could just watch the rerun online.”, you suggested.

“It’s no fun alone. So unless you can wait a day for the new episode...”

“I make no promises, since the last episode ended on a cliffhanger.. but I’ll try to be patient.” He smiled at your humor, but you were serous. The show was more enjoyable with him. 

“How did you get here?”, you eventually asked.

“I took a cab, but told them to let me out in front of a restaurant nearby. From there I walked.” In the pouring rain no less. Probably so the cab driver wouldn’t tell where he went. It was a clever ruse, but it was a shame that it was even necessary. 

“Need a ride home?”, you asked. “I think I’m not a bad driver and I have some minor experience with idol passengers.”

His smile grew even wider at that. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“But I do stil have to work for an hour before I can take my break.”, you said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Just a break? What time do you go home?”

“This is just like a hospital with normal night shifts. Usually they are covered by our senior staff, but because some are on holiday, the task falls to me. So today, I’m staying till 7am. But I get the next day off.”, you explained. Those almost 24 hour shifts were draining, but rare, so you didn’t mind them at all. 

“Oh, I think I will need loads of coffee to make it until 7am...”, he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I might as well keep you company. That will be the perfect way to show my gratitude.”

“You really don’t have you...”; you started. 

“I have a free day tomorrow as well, so I don’t mind.”, he insisted casually. “Besides, we get a chance to talk about that drama in person. It’s easier than typing.”

You still didn’t get why he wanted to stay. Somehow you could not imagine that it was because he simply started to enjoy your company through your online talks.

For almost the whole night, you just talked and drank copious amounts of coffee. He followed you on your patrol rounds, helping you with minor tasks whenever he could. And although it was strange, it was the best night shift ever. Most of the time, it didn’t feel like you were hanging out with an idol, but just with a really nice guy. A really handsome one at that. 

“This is nice.”, Jungkook said, voicing what you had been thinking. “But I do need another coffee.”

“You could also just take a nap.”, you offered. “I’ll wake you before it’s time to go.” It was already 4 am at this point. 

He seemed to think about the offer. “Ok, but we will grab some breakfast together to make up for lost time.”

Did he really feel like he owed you all this time? You weren’t quite sure what to answer, so you just nodded and went to grab him a blanket. There was a small sofa in the staff room specifically for the nightshift or patients who could not see blood. 

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight, Y/N”

Hearing it live was so much better than reading his text you decided. And with a smile you made yourself another coffee to last the remaining hours. 

[closer-stars]

Heart of Depth (2)

Member: Yeosang Genre: Action, Slice of Life, Fantasy, Fluff, a little tension. Genshin Inspired AU Word Count: ~12k Requested: Sort of yeah Content: Yeosang x MC development. More world building. Food stuff. A little bit of crime stuff, some history, some art info dump, some typical genshin shenanigans Note: this was done way before, I’m already 90% done with part 3 but I kinda got bored while focusing on IRL things that i decided to post this. Enjoy folks.  Network: @ateezlovenet Tag list: @barsformars @miniyeo @jeongyunhoed @yeekies @yeotlny @frankenstein852 @shinyddeonghwa @prodbyteez @yeochikin @yeocult @harubirus

Part 1

It’s been a few weeks since Wooyoung finally met Yeosang. While Wooyoung was mostly impressed with his background, there were a lot of mixed feelings from your end. For starters, he doesn’t stop talking about Yeosang and his job to you. 

“Listen, he’s loaded.” Wooyoung tells you back in your apartment. It’s not that you didn’t believe him, in fact you did. It’s just the way Wooyoung is processing the entire thing made it seem unrealistic. Since Wooyoung found out he works at one of the most popular art museums in the region, he’s been pestering you about it nonstop. 

“Wooyoung, I’m not saying that I don’t believe you but really, with the clothes he wears and how he carries himself, it’s not unbelievable that he’d be rich…” You say as you make yourself a cup of instant coffee. To most, they’d be surprised with how you choose to make instant coffee when you know how to make other types of coffee with ease. It’s just more convenient and less work for your head. It won’t give you the same caffeine boost as the coffee you make in your work but it’ll do for now. 

“And you didn’t tell me this because…?” He trails off, dumbfounded at how you were so nonchalant about this. Well, maybe nonchalant isn’t the right word but you were a little too unaffected about this. He has a feeling that there’s more to this man, he just can’t place what it is exactly. Wooyoung does find the guy trustworthy, but there’s still something beneath the surface and that’s what bothers him. 

You raise your shoulders at his question. “I just.. Didn’t see any point in telling you? Like, Wooyoung let’s be real,” you say as you write down how much you’ve made today. “What’s him being rich got to do with us? He’s a good person yeah but at least his money keeps my shop afloat with his daily purchases. If he wants me to make bulk orders then I’ll gladly consider it.”  

He had to give that to you, your business was doing great too, judging by the money on the table. But he can’t help it, there’s something about Yeosang that tells him he’s not as regular as he makes himself out to be. There’s only so much that research and studying can tell you but to be able to talk about history as if he’s been there to experience it firsthand? Sounds fishy. He drops the topic though, seeing how you’re starting to struggle with the money. “So slow.” Wooyoung teases as he gets the cash box from you, as he starts to flip through the bills.

You roll your eyes at his teasing, kicking his shin under the table. “Even if I was slow, you enjoy my food and drinks so either way, we’re even.” You shoot back. You count the stacks he makes on the table and do the basic math that your brain can comprehend. Despite how infuriating he can get, you have to admit he’s really someone you can depend on. 

Something in Wooyoung’s head clicks when he realizes that this was your closing routine every night. “You’re closing up early today?.” He asks, looking up at you from the stacks of coins. “Yeah uh,” You stammer out. “I’m uh, meeting up with someone..” You mumble. Even to you, it feels unreal that you’re catching feelings for someone. Someone who honestly just feels way too out of your league. Yet, here he is, sharing the same interest towards you and he’s about to see you in two hours time. 

The mention of the date makes Wooyoung’s eyebrow quirk upwards, a lopsided smile on his features growing. “Oh, with Yeosang?” He asks, crossing his arms across his chest. If he could take a photo of you sulking at him, he would for future blackmail purposes-- he’d also send it to Yeosang. 

The mention of the man that has been making your heart race a little more than it should makes you hit his calf with the tip of your shoe. He doesn’t yelp so you coat the tips of your fingers with ice and tap the back of his neck, giving you the reaction you wanted. “Yes, it’s with him and please…” you already know what he was about to say, so you beat him to it. “I doubt it would blossom into something more..” Even to you, you don’t sound that convincing. You hope for something more but you know better. 

At how flustered you look, he can’t help but chuckle lightly. It’s nice to see you show interest in someone in that light. Even if he’s still a little hesitant about Yeosang’s energy, he wants to trust your judgement. If anything happens, you know how to defend yourself. “I won’t push. You know what I’ll say anyways.” Once everything’s been accounted for, the two of you close up the shop for the night then head home. 

The entire walk home, you let Wooyoung recount the conversation he had with Yeosang when they met. You wondered too how Yeosang and San found your best friend. The two of you were opposites but somehow it made sense. At one point, you kind of zone out of his stories, thinking of what to wear for tonight. 

Wooyoung doesn’t really mind you zoning out. The two of you appreciate the alone time, you more than him sometimes. In a sense, it also helps Wooyoung to make sense of his thoughts when he thinks out loud. 

The two of you arrive at your apartment and already you make a beeline to your room. You got roughly an hour to prepare now. 

“Just wear something comfortable.” Yeosang reassures.

“Yeosang, comfortable can mean sweats or just jeans.” You point out, while you also had slacks, those were usually set aside for more formal stuff. 

“Fine, not sweats.” He laughs softly only to stop at the look of mild panic in your face. “I promise, it’s nothing expensive.” 

You mutter as you change out of your work clothes and into something more appropriate. You wiggle around your room, trying to find something appropriate and it’s a little unfortunate that you room has become a little messy from all the clothes you’ve been trying on. It took a little while to look presentable but you think you did well once you give yourself a once over on the mirror. 

Wooyoung already barged into your room, already nagging you for taking so long. “You got less than an hour to get to your--- oh my god your room.” He says, his features dropping into one of horror as he takes in how your room looks. 

“I’ll clean it up when I get back.” You beat him to it as you grabbed your bag. “What do you think?” You ask, shifting his attention from your room to you. His eyes scan your look closely then eyes your accessories. Without even saying anything else, he goes through the mess and picks up another bag.

“This goes better with your outfit.” 

“Isn’t it a bit too big?” 

“Who are you going on a date with tonight?”

“It’s not a date--”

“Who?”

You sigh. “Yeosang, so?”

“Use it. I’m telling you, that guy has a lot of money on him. You might bring home more things than expected.” He points out. “Also, make sure you wear your boots.” It made sense that Wooyoung would have more fashion sense than you. It just did. 

“I’m not bringing him home!” You take the bag regardless and put your belongings in it. 

He snorts at how you understood his words. “Not like that! I do trust you’d do it responsibly! But, that’s not my point. Just have fun okay?” He walks you towards the door. “If anything happens, call me.” 

At his shift from insufferable to endearing, you decide to spoil him with a peck to his cheek. “I know. I brought a spare key also in case you get too tired from staying up.” 

He scoffs at your words. “Go, have fun.”

---------

It was short sighted of you to forget to bring a jacket. The area Yeosang told you to meet him at was rather chilly especially at night. As you wait for him, you look around, the shops that lined up across you looked expensive. Did you bring enough money? Well you had a credit card but you only used it for emergencies. You doubt you could even buy one item from any of these shops. Maybe one day. 

[ Yeosang to You ] Are you there?

[ You to Yeosang ] Yes! Are you here already? curious_ryan

You don’t know why you added an emoji to your message but you did. Once sent, you look around for the familiar black haired male. 

[ Yeosang to You ] 2 minutes. 

You lean against the wall, eyes still roaming around for the tall man. Truthfully, you wondered where he could be and what he was wearing since this was his idea after all. It’s up to what he wears that could decide if you wore too much or too little. You spot the raven-haired man from a few feet away; in a striped pull over and slacks as well. Though it looked just as casual as he said it would, his shoes seemed to make his outfit look more put together. You hope you looked okay. Once he gets a little closer, you wave your hand a bit to get his attention and it does. 

“There you are.” He says softly, tipping his head politely to you. You take a few steps forward, greeting him warmly. It felt a little weird to meet him outside work but that’s the reason why the two of you are here. 

“How was work?” You ask him, just like how you would back in your shop. 

He gestures for you to walk with him, wherever it will be. “Same as per usual; scheduling field trips for high school students, collections from other countries and collectors coming in, restoring a few pieces and the like.” He returns with what you could assume was an exasperated sigh. 

“It sounds like it was more than just the usual.” You point out as you look at the stores. “Where are we going exactly?” 

“It’s the usual for me I suppose, maybe except for the field trips. Other than that, it’s routine for me.” You remember how he would talk about art restoration along with art collections coming in from foreign partners. It wasn’t an easy task for sure, maybe that’s why he didn’t mind staying for hours in the shop. “As for your question, there’s a small night market outside this mall. Nothing too flashy, just a lot of unique things that you might like as well.” You genuinely didn’t take him to be someone who would be into markets, based on his outfit that he feels your surprised gaze on him. “Is something wrong?” He asks. You shake your head at his concern.

“I just didn’t take you to be the type to like markets.” Well, for one, you know he’s rich and he’s wearing clothes that you can only assume are made to order. Two, even if you don’t really listen to Wooyoung’s insistent ‘He’s Rich and here’s Why’ tirades, you picked up a thing or two from it. 

He takes no insult from your words and actually laughs behind a loose fist. “I’ve received those words a lot in the past. To be honest, it’s thanks to San and his lover that I’m more open to things now.” Back then, he was still in the dark about what the people like, intellectualizing everything to the point of disconnect. It took them having to explain things to him over and over until he understood things. “Though, old habits do die hard.” He continues, referring to his clothes. “But I have learned a lot.” 

There’s something in his words that tells you there’s more. Your attention shifts to his clothes as he gestures to his pullover. You catch a glimpse of the brand name and in doing so, your heart drops. You know that name. An outfit there can cover two months worth of rent for your shop. Maybe even the bills.

That’s how the rest of the night goes: Yeosang showing you around the market, showing you various treats to the senses. There were various stalls that you fell for, buying a few of their products but you stopped yourself from over indulging in the purchases-- some merely out of impulse, some for the mere fact it just looked pretty. “Why don’t you buy it?” Yeosang asks as he catches you eyeing a small bottle of perfume. 

“Hm?” You aren’t startled by his strange ability to slip in and out of your sight every so often now. This market has such a vast amount of products, that one would easily lose sight of their companions if they didn’t pay attention. Thankfully, he was tall enough for you to find him when needed. “Oh, well, I still have a bottle I use back at home. I don’t think I need another one just yet.” You shift your gaze to him, and you see he has bought quite a number of items. “Do you want to eat dinner already?” 

“I was about to ask you. It is rather late.” He notes with a glance at his watch. 

“Let’s go? I’m kind of hungry now as well.” 

“Any preference?” He asks, offering his arm for you to hold to which you don’t turn down.

“As long as it isn’t anything expensive.” 

--------

Now why did this restaurant look expensive? 

You were seated a little further inside the establishment. The seats were comfortable, privacy was assured and the music playing overhead wasn't Today’s Top 40. You were certain it was jazz. “I thought I said anything that isn’t expensive..” You say, unknowingly pouting at the man across you. 

“Consider this as thanks.” He says simply, not even looking up from the menu. The in-house steak sounds lovely, especially at this time. 

You look up from the menu, confused at his words. “For what?” You don’t remember what you did to result in such a lavish meal-- you don’t even remember what you ate for breakfast today. A small part of you wishes Wooyoung could be here too, he would’ve loved to try out the dishes here. 

“Putting trust in me to be considered a good friend of yours.” Yeosang says, it’s only then that he looks up from his menu. “Have you decided on what to eat?” He shifts the conversation to you upon noticing the confusion still etched on your face. 

“Uh, well. I’m not sure what I should order” Also known as, everything’s expensive but also they sound good. You were bouncing between the pasta, beef and the fish, unsure of which one would be better for you. 

“Anything that you were eyeing?” He presses. Odd enough, he can tell when you’re holding your tongue now. While he doesn’t force you to say what’s really in your mind at times, you’re human, your body has limits as well. An empty stomach carries repercussions that would probably have Wooyoung on his head.

At his question, you tell him your options. He asks about your diet preferences and your appetite for the night until he finds a good dish for you for tonight. Once all that is over, the two of you are left alone once again. “So, my dear, what did you get in the market?” He asks you, leaning a little forward, hoping for a bit of a peek into what fancied your interests. 

You look at the small bags that came with your purchases, wondering which one first to show him. “Oh I just got those small perfume bottles,” you start, pulling the box out of the bag. “It’s not much but it was such a lovely scent.” You start to gush over the purchase. It took you some time to decide on purchasing it, as it was your last purchase for the night. 

He picks up the box, looking at the details of the perfume, noting all the things about it. Truthfully, he didn’t think you were into this but he’s up for surprises from you. Also, San’s into this brand as well, he didn’t think they made perfume bottles in such small sizes. He hands back the perfume to you, a pleasant hum leaving his curved lips. There’s always something for him to learn. 

“What about you?” You ask him as you keep your purchase away. “What did you buy?”

Yeosang looks at the small bag he had by his side. He lets you bring it out of the bag. You peek inside first, confused to see a few envelopes of varying sizes. “What are these? Are you sure I can open these?” You ask, picking a small envelope, the length just roughly around the same as your hand. When you see him nod, you carefully pull up the flap. Being greeted by a strip of colored paper behind a cream colored paper confused you, so you carefully pull it out of its confines only to gasp at the quality. 

It’s a watercolor painting. It looks like a flower, something you’ve never seen before. The color was soft against the cream paper yet it was so lively, as if you could tell how the petals could feel under your fingertips. He sees the shock on your face, smiling a little at the sight of how wide your eyes get. “They’re all paintings, you can look through whatever fancies your curiosity.” His words make you feel like a deer in the headlights. 

“Where did you get these? I didn’t see an artist in the market…” You mumble in thought. You’d like to get one for your shop too. “What flower is this?” You ask Yeosang, holding up the painting you initially chose. Finding entertainment in watching how you look at art results in his eyes taking a while to adjust to the art in front of him. 

“Ah this, it’s called a Névé Jewel. It’s rare to find them now but the artist, a good friend of mine in the market knows of the flower and managed to create this painting. No one else seemed to want it so I got it for myself along with a few other works.” He explains. “If you wish to have work made by him, I can easily arrange that should he leave the market after we’re done with dinner.” As he was about to continue his explanation, the food started to arrive. As you return his purchases, you check the time, it didn’t take as long as you would’ve thought. The flash of warm light from your phone catches his attention. Even at an angle, he can kind of depict what the photo is. “Apologies for the question but is that your family?” 

After thanking the staff for serving your meals, you let him see your wallpaper, though you cover the image of a child you from his view. “Yeah, it’s an old photo of my parents, and I.” 

“How are they now?” He asks, studying the photo like he would with artwork. The sunlight casting shadows over your mother’s hat, your father squinting through the glare, probably done at high noon. The wall definitely was a product of its time, bricks but covered over with a huge mural. He’s unsure if this was shot here or in another country, regardless, it’s evident it came from a much simpler time. 

“Well…” There’s something in your voice that makes Yeosang quiet. The wistful tone is something he knows too well and not something he wants to bring at the first dinner with you. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked such a question. 

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we can change the subject.” He immediately adds after the gap. He gestures at your meal, not wanting it to go cold. 

You shake your head at his concern. “It’s okay, it’s been roughly a decade now.” You explain as you pick up your utensils. “They’ve passed on now, it’s why I live with Wooyoung.” After your family’s passing, Wooyoung’s family took you in as one of theirs. It’s why you and Wooyoung can pass off as siblings now. 

As he takes makes sure he gets a spoonful of the pasta, he smiles a little at your words. “If you didn’t tell me that the two of you weren’t related, I would’ve thought otherwise.” Yeosang’s voice takes on a teasing tone, a subtle attempt to bring back a smile of joy on your features. 

You make a face, carrying no malice but rather fake annoyance. “Oh dear, that means he’s rubbed off on me.” You carefully cool off your meal before tasting it. It really was a good idea to bring a few extra in your wallet. “What about you? What’s your family like?” 

“Well,” He takes a moment or two to eat before continuing. “I suppose, just like you, they’ve passed on when I was younger. It’s been just San and I since then.” People he considered to be his family have passed on, or have retired from the outside world. Regardless, it has left him in a rather lonely state at times. While there are memories he is fond of, who else is there to share these memories? 

The two of you share stories, at least the happier ones, about each other’s families. How it was your dad who instilled in you an affinity for art, your mom teaching you history a little more entertaining than your teachers did. Yeosang shares his stories as well, his brother being a reason for his inquisitive nature that eventually grew into his work. He also talks of how his older teacher taught him the tricks and trades of business. Despite living well off, it was really his siblings who had more or less raised him as his parents were often or rather always, working. Eventually the business of art rested on his shoulders, as he was the only one who had an interest in it. You wondered if he was aware of how much money the business gave him before he signed into this. Come to think of it, there’s only two families that have a hold on the art business. Surely he’s from one of them? 

Come to think of it, you still don’t know his last name. 

“Are you alright? Is the food okay?” He asks you after the stories have ended. That’s when you realized that you had spaced out in your thoughts in the middle of the meal. “Huh? Oh! Yes, i’m fine. Sorry I was thinking...” You continue to eat what’s left of your meal. “Because you said you took over the art business in the museum right? There’s only two families I can think of that has a hold on the art business industry here: Kang and Song.” 

He chuckles lightheartedly, a little pleased to know that even until now his family is this impactful. “Ah, the Song. They’re a lovely bunch, the next in line is rather clumsy outside of formalities, it’s rather cute to see.” His comment makes you stare at him in disbelief. That leaves the option left is Kang. Kang Yeosang. 

You’re eating with The Kang Yeosang. 

The Kang family has been a pioneer in art restoration especially in works prior to the 1400s. Their own art collection were always pieces hard to find anywhere else-- either due to human’s hubris or due to nature, the way they’re able to keep them in pristine condition as much as possible. You don’t know how they’re able to find some of the artifacts, or how they have the rarest pieces but it’s one of the reasons why they’ve amassed such wealth. Curating in a popular museum, restoring old pieces, tours from not only students but also from diplomats, scholars while being funded to keep security at its peak by the government. It makes sense. It’s been a dream of yours to work in the National Museum and here you are, eating dinner with the owner of what could be more than 60% of the collection in the museum.

He watches the gears in your head click and the realization set in your eyes. He says nothing but flash a bright smile once he knows you know the answer. “I hope this doesn’t complicate our friendship.” He admits earnestly. 

You reassure him, with much fervor that it doesn’t. It just makes you respect him a lot more. It’s not easy to keep a bit of a low profile and privacy yet he’s able to do so. Shit, Wooyoung’s right then, a mental note to make up for your lack of reaction and doubt was stored away. So the rest of the meal goes by with you asking Yeosang how it is to handle a museum, knowing how things have been lately. 

He sighs a little, the recent rise in art theft has been the bane of his existence since day 1. The amount of artworks he had to keep from sticky fingers, the security of those works is where a good portion of his money goes. He fears the day more works end up in the wrong hands. “We do what we can. It’s not easy but we’ve upped the security in and out of the premises.” He reassures you. There’s comfort in meeting someone who loves art just as much as he and the staff outside of work. “Maybe in the near future, I can give you a private tour.” He casually passes his credit card to a staff member, as both of you are now finished with the meal.

If he was asking you on a date, it’s already a yes in your book. 

“I’d like that.” You admit, unable to hide the excited grin on your lips. “Though, as thanks for the meal. If you want dessert, can I pay for it this time?” He didn’t give you enough time to react to the fact he had just paid for your meal. Might as well make up for it, somehow. 

On the way to a dessert spot, the two of you decide to stop by the market in hopes of seeing his friend. “Oh hey!” Yeosang’s friend greets him upon realizing who’s right in front of him as he puts away some of his earnings from a recent sale. 

“Hey Seonghwa, so my friend here discovered your works and wanted to see them so I brought them here.” The man next to you explains. You see some of his works on display, all of them were in various sizes, some bigger than the pieces Yeosang had bought. Yeosang catches the curious gaze of his friend on you then at him to which Yeosang shakes his head, not wanting to keep anyone's hopes up. 

“They’re so pretty…” You say softly as you gaze at the larger pieces in awe. Seonghwa has created watercolor pieces of scenery, places you have yet to see, some look dreamlike. The smaller pieces are of various plant life, one of them looks similar to the flower piece you peeked at from Yeosang’s purchases earlier. “How much are the small works?” 

Seonghwa looks at the general direction of your gaze. “The flowers are fifty thousand while the terrain’s at sixty thousand.” You weren’t so surprised at the prices but you had to pick one or the other. 

Your lips press into a thin line in thought. “What do you think, Yeosang?” You ask. “I’m thinking of hanging one of them up in my shop.” Truthfully, the flowers would look good considering the plants you’ve cared for in your shop. The terrain on the other hand would stand out in all the good ways. 

“Perhaps the floral one would suffice. It suits the ambiance of your shop as well.” Yeosang notes. You trust his judgement with this-- he handles a museum after all, and you fish out your wallet.

“That’s a lovely bracelet you got there.” Seonghwa gasps, awed by the beauty. He knows what that is, eyes flitting to the archon a little too quickly before shifting again to you. His words bring you flattery that you accept. 

“It’s from my mom.” You simply explain, ears a little pink from the sudden attention on you. The blond male doesn’t miss your bashful ears that he chuckles lightly behind his hand and drops the topic. 

“Your mother has quite an eye.” He simply says as he hands you your change. “Thank you for buying a work from me.” With that said, the two of you make your way to an ice cream parlor. 

You let Yeosang look at the various flavors on display. “Before anything, I’m paying.” You remind him. It’s how determined you are to repay his kindness that produces a light laugh from him. 

“Very well.” He returns his attention to the display, pondering on his options for the moment. “I’ll get the injeolmi and red bean in a cup. Two scoops please?” He asks. He stays by your side as you order, curious by the other flavors. If he remembers right, San loves the mint chocolate with the popping candy. 

As you wait for your turn, your phone buzzes with a message. 

[ Wooyoung to You ] How are you? 

You smile at his worry. 

[ You to Wooyoung ] Cheeky_ryan.emoji

[ You to Wooyoung ] One of these days, you need to go here with me. It’s so pretty here.

[ You to Wooyoung ] Also buying ice cream right now hehe. 

You pay for your orders, and let Yeosang choose a spot to sit for the next hour or so. You put your purchases right next to you as your lips widen into a giddy smile. It’s been a while since you last had ice cream too. 

“Oh yeah. Now that we’ve settled in a good spot in this shop.” He hands you the same envelope that had the terrain you were in turmoil over earlier. “Consider it a gift.” He reasons when he sees how you were about to turn down such an offer. A smile of triumph brightens his entire face when he sees you give in to his request. You look cute sulking at him when you know you can’t turn down his offers. “The thing Seonghwa noticed, he’s got a good eye for jewelry.” It took eons for him to have such specialized sight but it’s been an asset since he could remember. “It’s something your mother gave you, yes?” 

You show him the bracelet from your seat. “It’s an ancestral piece,” You admit. It’s the most watered down way you can explain without showing too much of yourself to someone. Since their death, you’ve become a lot more private about your family life when it pertains to them, but when it comes to your family life with Wooyoung you can easily talk about it. Here’s the kicker though, why were you so willing to share things with him? 

Honestly, you didn’t know the whole name of the bracelet. You only vaguely remember it being called Aurora so that stuck with you until now. At night, the pearl shines brighter, when you use your cryo vision for whatever reason, the light inside the pearl pulsates. In a well lit room like where you are, it looks like an average pearl. It was one of the things your mother told you to hold dear before seeing them for the last time. 

The male senses your inability to remember clearly along with your discomfort. A part of him reprimands himself for letting his desire to know get the better of him. You are your own person. He has to remind himself of this over and over. “You don’t have to tell me everything, I do respect your privacy.” He says softly. 

“Yeosang?” You ask. The tone makes him stiffen, worried for having hurt you in such a short span of time. 

“Yes?” 

You prod at your ice cream for a moment, trying to find the words. “I mean, considering how historical the museum is. Has there been times where artworks have been stolen?” It was a valid question, most museums you know through the years have attempted thievery one way or another. Some works never find their way back home; you wondered if the same has happened to his museum. 

“Oh of course.” There’s a bit of relief in hearing you shift the conversation. A little bit of dread since this is a difficult thing to deal with. “Before I became the head, a group did an art heist. Around ten works were stolen, until now we don’t know where they are.” 

This somehow surprises you. You know how tight the security is in that museum even without knowing Yeosang’s hand in the museum, the security there was rather strict too. “What?” 

“Yes, a number of works that are considered rarities were stolen. Not a lot of people know that these artists did such works either.” Under the jurisdiction of his predecessor, they kept the frames of the missing works up, hoping that one day they’ll get them back. Yeosang knows otherwise at this point. “Truthfully speaking, I have my doubts they’ll return in one piece if at all.” Yeosang continues. “It’s been decades, if I remember right, since those works were stolen.” Artworks gone for decades usually end up in the same place one way or another. If they’re lucky, they know where it is. The only problem is revealing how they know and why they know, usually. 

As he tells you about the works, you search them up on your phone. These are works centuries before you were born only to be stolen decades before your birth. Despite the time difference, the impact it left on the art world seems to be immense. It explains the growing levels of security in museums around the world, among many other things. 

“How do you know of these artworks? I haven’t heard of them.”

“With the people I work with, I have to know information like this.” Well that makes sense but why does he talk of these works as if he’s seen them? 

“But, it’s been...what.. Decades? Since it’s been seen, how is your memory that clear?” The way he describes it as you look at the painting on your phone, you pick up on details you would have missed but there’s something in his words that tells you something more. 

He stares at you, sweat already forming at the back of his neck as he tries to come up with a logical excuse. “I have the records, also the internet gives us the nearest accurate rendering of the paintings.” He explains, gesturing to your phone screen that displays one of the mentioned works. 

He’s got a point and you drop the topic. After a few more minutes of looking at the painting, you turn away from your phone, shifting your attention to your ice cream and to him. 

“The Ninth Wave by Ivan Aivazovksy”

“Judith Beheading Holofornes by Artemisia.. I don’t know how to pronounce her last name..” It was a little embarrassing that you didn’t know how to pronounce these names but you couldn’t really help but love the work. 

That was something he didn’t expect. He looks up the work you mentioned, along with the artist’s name, wanting to avoid possible confusion. “Ah, this work?” He asks, as he shows you his phone. At the sight of the work, you nod shyly but the spark in your eyes overpowers the bashful nature on your cheeks. He gives it a good look for a moment or two, studying what he can from such a small screen. The blood in the work’s dynamic, actively spurting out from the male’s neck while the women wrestle to keep him down to finish the act. The women don’t look disgusted by the action at all, rather they look determined. “Why so?” It’s uncommon but not rare, for people to like works that were rather morbid. He just didn’t take you to be someone to appreciate works like this. 

You gnaw on your spoon for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. Truthfully, you find it a little embarrassing to admit that this is your favorite work, not things like The Milkmaid by Vermeer or something more calming. “Uh, well,” you start off. “It’s not everyday really, that I see works made by women. Especially with the subject being someone who’s determined even in doing something morbid.” The reason behind the painting was just as violent, but could’ve been cathartic to the artist herself. To you, you want to do the same to those who have hurt you and your family. But hey, who would talk about that the first time they hang out right? “What about you?” You shift the topic almost immediately. “Why The Ninth Wave?”

Yeosang takes this moment to think for a moment or two, wondering what he should say. “Well,” he starts before scooping a small mouthful of the ice cream. “Seeing the ocean be so dynamic isn’t an everyday thing.” He lets the ice cream melt in his mouth for a moment before continuing. “People tend to forget that the ocean while giving, can take. We’re at its mercy, whether we like it or not. It’s a good reminder I suppose, that we’re not as invincible as we think we are.” 

You look closer at the artwork. It’s a handful of men, clinging onto what looks like planks of wood as they face a wave that looks tamed. You wonder why it’s called the Ninth Wave, seeing that the painting was washed with soft pinks, warm bright yellows and various shades of blues and greens. It looks much more peaceful than the description Yeosang gave. 

“A little ironic isn’t it?” He muses. A sheen of blue glowing softly in his eyes as he watches you study the painting with confusion. “You see, it’s an old sailing expression that means that another wave is coming. After the previous eight that were already big, the ninth one coming, much bigger than the last eight. The worst has yet to come but storm through it and then there will be peace.” He gestures to the faint wave just by the line of horizon. Indeed there’s still one more but the skies promise peace should they get through it. 

You jolt in your chair when you see what time it is. You’re hoping Wooyoung’s already asleep back in the apartment. “I’m sorry, but I have to head home. It’s already late and I usually open the shop early.” You explain as you stand up. Yeosang looks at you with alarm as you nearly stumble from the rush.

“I’ll drive you home.” 

“What?” 

“It’s late isn’t it? Going home alone isn’t safe, I’ll drive you home.” 

--------

That’s how you ended up in his car, breezing through the wide streets as you direct him to where you live. “You don’t have the app?” You ask him as your eyes dart from building to building. You’ve been so used to using the trains and walking that you don’t really spend time looking up to see the bright signages and other restaurants. More things to explore in the future, perhaps. 

“What app?” Yeosang asks as he weaves through corners and light traffic. You take that as a cue to explain to him that there’s this app that tells you where to go when traffic in the main roads are too heavy or when an accident has happened to be aware of and the like. All of this while you eat what’s left of your ice cream. Though you did have to explain as well that while you don’t see any use for the app, Wooyoung’s workmate, Yunho, uses it and it’s been helpful for him when he oversleeps. 

Yeosang chortles at the reasoning. “Well, I might use that app then despite not being the type to oversleep.” He spots your apartment building, based on your descriptions earlier. “I suppose that is your place?” He looks around. This seems to be a few stops away from your coffee shop. The more he learns, he supposes. 

You sent Wooyoung a quick text saying you’d be home in five minutes should he still be awake. “Yes! That’s the building, you can just drop me off here.” You say as you look out the window to make sure there weren't any cars coming so you could hop off. 

“I’ll drive you there, just sit tight.” He reassures. The drive was smooth, stopping just by the entrance of the apartment complex with a pleasant smile. “At least I can tell San that I can still make a drive be pleasant.” At his words, you raise a questioning eyebrow at him. “Another story for another time, I’ll see you again soon I hope?” He asks. 

“Of course.” You return as you hop off the car. “Stay safe please?” You ask, as you wave at him. He shoots you this smile, and it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat. Too much that you have to remind yourself that the two of you are just friends, that regretting not having given him a kiss is not very friend-like. You watch him drive off until you can’t see the car anymore, by then you head inside back to the safety of your own abode. 

--------

He arrives home, his mind still replaying the way you looked so flustered before he left. You were lovely in his eyes, that much he can admit. He tosses the keys on to the table. His coat shrugged off and hung somewhere. Coming home to an empty apartment after being with company and bright lights is a little disorienting. Maybe he should really invest in softer lighting for his home. He switches the lights on, and heaves a tired sigh. It’s been a long day but it was a fun one. Should he consider having you and Wooyoung room with him here? Granted, he already has a room for San whenever he’s in the mood for company as well. It’s been a ritual for him as well to let his place become a haven for those who have been injured through out the years. Perhaps that’s another thought for another day. 

As he prepares himself a cup of tea, he goes through the current happenings around him. It was a little alarming that reports of crime were shooting up, some of which bearing certain similarities that he hopes the officials catch soon. The crimes reported haven’t changed regardless of the presence of a god’s protection. He’ll also have to talk to the security in the museum to keep anything from being stolen. 

This reminds him to check on any emails concerning the museum and their upcoming events. Most of them were updates of planned exhibitions with other museums outside the country, along with events in partnership with brands in the country. It was rather tiresome really, same routine with every museum, every shop, anything to keep the museum running in ethical ways. Though he wonders how the gardens in the museum are coming along, the seasons are slowly changing and this means that some plants will have to be changed in order to keep up with appearances and health. 

His cup of tea was finally ready when he remembered to send you a message. 

[ Yeosang to You ] Hey, I’m finally home. I had fun today :) 

No less than five minutes did you manage to return the text. 

[ You to Yeosang ] I’m glad, I had fun too~ Sleep well! 

He finds himself smiling at your reply as he takes a sip. He had a feeling that tonight, he’ll be able to sleep well. 

Unknown to him and the rest of the staff, a small bud was already growing. 

--------

“I got a proposition for you.” 

Whenever Wooyoung has those words come out of his mouth, you were sure it wasn’t a good idea. Regardless of the fear, you entertain his thoughts. “And what is it?” You ask, your focus on the ceramic mug that you dry in your hands. 

“What if I work with you here?” You were thankful for your reflexes for not falling lax at such an offer. The idea of Wooyoung working with you was okay to put it nicely but there was an important question you had to raise. 

“Why?” You ask him as you keep the clean mug away. It was a Wednesday, which meant business runs slow. This is also the reason as to why Wooyoung was in your shop and not at home catching up on sleep. 

“For starters, you work alone.” He says, raising his pointer finger. “Two, you’re practically dating Yeosang by now.” He raises his middle finger and it takes all your will power to not freeze his fingers off his hand. “Three, I want to help you with your work.” You admit, he’s got a good heart but you still want to freeze his hand off. 

“Do I have time to think about this?” You ask, keeping an eye on the students who seem to be preparing for a final just a few tables away from you. 

“Well, yeah you do cause you pretty much call the shots in this place.” Wooyoung returns with a shrug. “It’s just an offer.” he reminds you. “Oh yeah, is Yeosang coming today?” 

You eye him in confusion. “I hope so..? Why?” 

“Hope so, huh.” He repeats, a smug grin on his lips.

At his teasings, you let a rush of icy wind brush past the back of his neck, cold enough that snowflakes appear when he touches the skin. “We’re not dating! And yes, i do hope he comes in today or at least I think he will?” He didn’t really send you any message that says he won’t be able to make it today so you were rather confused. Then again, he and Yeosang have started to become good friends as well. San, though impressed, was just as alarmed considering how mischievous Wooyoung could get. 

“It’s nice to see Yeosang make friends outside his work. I’m glad you and Wooyoung came along.”  San said as he watches Yeosang fall for Wooyoung’s jokes and tricks. 

You on the other hand, were behind the counter, cleaning up the coffee machines. The high pitched laughter echoing in the room countered by embarrassed chuckles and feeble attempts to defend themselves. “You think so?” You ask. 

San catches onto your light hearted sarcasm and giggles. “Yeah. Guess you can say, you kind of opened him up to a world beyond what he knew. He’s been insistent in learning trends.” He continues. “Oh and don’t tell him i told you but he also wants to learn how you make your coffee. He can never get it like you do. Don’t be surprised if he ends his work early just to ask you to teach him how to make coffee.”

By then the two of you knew it was Yeosang’s way of spending time with you whenever work allowed the two of you to do so.

“Not dating yet.” He takes the extra effort to emphasize the ‘yet’. “Kid, I’m telling you,” he continues, not paying any mind to the lasers that shoot out of your eyes due to being called a Kid. “The two of you are going to date sooner or later.” 

Just as he finishes his sentence, San enters the premises. You stand up straight to welcome him just like any other customer but by now you also know his usual order. “Usual order?” You ask him, already ready to write his order on his cup. 

He shoots the two of you a cheeky smile. “Yeah, for me and Yeosang.'' The cheeky smile turns a little bashful now as he eyes the treats on display. “Can I also get the lavender blueberry sponge cake, two slices, to go? Yeosang’s been stressed with meetings today.” 

Hearing this, your eyebrows furrow in concern. “Would tea be better for him then?”

The male shakes his head. “Coffee might do him better for his work. If we got time to come by later, then yeah give him tea.” You and Wooyoung look at each other, slightly alarmed and worried for him but the explanation will come for another time. 

“Sure thing. “ With the payments out of the way, San and Wooyoung catch up as you prepare his orders.

“Something up?” Wooyoung asks, rather worried to see San be this concerned for Yeosang and also look just as stressed. 

San takes this moment to take a deep breath and deflate in his seat. “Some of the sponsors are being illogical along with some logistical problems for upcoming exhibitions so all of us are pressed for time and resources.” He runs his fingers through his hair, already tousled by the amount of times he’s been doing the same motion since this morning. “On top of that, a break in just happened near the museum so security measures have been heightened.” San says under his breath, not wanting anyone to overhear that statement.

Wooyoung looks at him in alarm, then looks at his phone for any updates on their area. He wonders if leaving you alone would be a good idea at this rate. “There’s nothing yet on social media..” He mutters, still concerned for you.

“The media’s on their way to cover the situation so give it around ten minutes.” San explains, by then you arrive at the table with his orders packed up for him to pick up and go. 

“Tell Yeosang, I said hi?” You say as you watch the two of them, sensing the tension in the air. “Something wrong?” 

San shakes his head for now. “Just the usual work stuff, thanks for the food, I have to get going now.” He picks up the bag and bids the two of you farewell. “I’ll send your regards as well.” He says before running out the door. 

You glance at Wooyoung and he shows his phone to you. “Besides stressful work issues, a break in happened nearby so their stress hasn’t been anything nice.” You read through the news article: nothing valuable was taken but everything’s in disarray. Though the museum’s a little further down the road from the break in, and further away from your shop, you’re a little worried for your own shop’s security as well. You also know how protective Wooyoung is of you. 

“Fine, you can work with me in this shop, your shift’s gonna depend on your availability as well since I know you have to create choreographies and teach them.” You state. He smiles a little too triumphantly this time, mostly due to the relief of knowing you’re safe and because he can keep you company as well. “This also means I have to teach you how to work these machines…” You note with a sigh, you were never confident in your teaching skills. 

“Hey don’t lose faith in me. I pick up quickly, don’t I?” Wooyoung croons with a proud smile. 

“Do you have a shift today in the studio?” You ask as you look through the cabinets. 

“No why?” The answer to his question is an apron tossed in his direction.

“Good, I’m teaching you today then, get your butt over here,” 

--------

The two of you crash onto the chairs after a long day of working. Wooyoung glances over at you as he rubs his sore muscles, wondering how you’re able to do this day in and day out, all alone. You don’t seem to be as fazed as he is, as all you do is stretch in your seat. “How do you do this on your own?” Wooyoung asks, now that it’s only the two of you in the shop. 

“I have to.” You say simply. It’s rare for Wooyoung to hear you complain as well. This was something you wanted after all. The only complaints he hears from you are usually just muscle pain that he helps ease, and the occasional horror customer. Besides the occasional pet discussion, he never hears you complain over how hard your job is. Meanwhile, he always complains about his. Not that you minded them, some of them are rather valid. He was simply the type to externally process what happened before being able to move on. 

He catches you often looking towards the door, in hopes of seeing Yeosang. “He hasn’t said anything yet huh?” He asks, a little sad for you as well. He knows how much you look forward to seeing him, even if you don’t say anything about it. 

You shake your head, your phone’s been silent the entire day and with San’s explanation, it makes sense why he’d be busy. Maybe you can send him a message? But wouldn’t that disrupt his work? 

“Just send it.” Wooyoung says, hanging his legs over the arm rest. Well, at least it’s not his shoes against the arm rest. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Were you that transparent in his eyes? 

You shoot him a pout but take out your phone. You didn’t think he’d send you a message now.

[ Yeosang to You ] Still in the shop?

“He just messaged me, asking if I’m still in the shop.” You say, blinking at the message, slightly surprised. 

“Well, you are so let him in.” Wooyoung says, eyeing the door. The mentioned guy was standing outside the shop, clearly exhausted from a long day. His words confuse you as you still gaze at the phone screen so he takes the honor to unlock the door to let the man in, then lock it once more. “Didn’t think you’d be able to drop by after what San told us.” Your friend notes, noting the loosened tie. He wonders just how much he had to go through today. 

It’s only by the time the wind chimes chirp of someone’s entrance that you look up from your phone. The man responsible for the weird heart racing you’ve been getting is in front of you but instead of letting out your frustrations, you heave a sigh of relief to see him alive in one piece. “You’re lucky we haven’t closed the place for the day.” 

“Not like they could until they saw you.” Your best friend cuts in much to Yeosang’s delight. 

“I see Wooyoung’s now working for you?” Yeosang says, as he takes a seat on the stool next to your table. A soft groan slips from his lips as he finally feels peace after a tiring day. 

“Do you want anything?” Wooyoung offers, as you watch the two of them banter in front of you. You let Wooyoung take the lead for his order this time, wanting to see just how much he has picked up today. 

“Earl grey tea-- do you guys still have a vanilla macaron?” Yeosang throws back as he removes his blazer, folding it over his arms. 

“Gotcha.” He says simply, already getting to work. 

“It’s on me.” You tell him as you slip towards the stool across him. He takes the chance to hold your hand, holding it close to his lips. 

“I apologize for the late arrival, my dear. Work was not merciful today.” He mumbles softly against your skin. “I was looking forward to seeing you today at a preferably earlier time.” His voice clearly carried the stress of unexpected problems that you wonder what else went wrong after San’s visit. Wooyoung comes back with his order, already pulling up another stool to listen to Yeosang’s woes. “I won’t stay too long today, it’s been a long day and I’m sure the two of you had a busy day.” It was a little worrisome to see him try to keep his stress to a minimum when it’s already clearly nearing the limits. You wonder how much he kept from you the past few weeks. 

You don’t notice the look Wooyoung gives you at how intimate you and Yeosang look. Your eyes are on Yeosang the entire time, his free hand taking a sip of the tea, tension in his shoulders easing at the warmth of the tea spreads around him. “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask carefully. 

He shakes his head. “For another time, I promise I will fill you in on them.” He says. He opens his eyes after a while, and it shocks you how vividly blue his eyes are. They weren’t the striking ice blue the foreigners have, rather it’s a deep blue. The blue that reminds you of how vast and deep the world you live in is, you don’t know why that came into your mind but it did. But, why does it feel so familiar? “Are the two of you done cleaning for today?” He asks all of a sudden. The two of you look around and the only thing left was to take out the trash. 

“Just need to take the trash out then we’re done for the day.” 

“How will the two of you head home?” 

Wooyoung and you look at each other, surprised by the question. “Well, we just take the train.” His eyes darken just a bit and you want to ask Wooyoung so badly if you’re seeing things. He shakes his head.

“That won’t do. The two of you can ride with me on the way home tonight.” 

“I’m sorry?” The two friends ask at the same time, much to Yeosang’s amusement. 

“It’s late, though I trust and know that the two of you can protect yourselves.” He starts, gesturing at the visions the two of you carry. “But it is late, the recent crimes have been spiking. Let me pay back your kindness through this at least.” He wasn’t leaving any room to sway his decision so the two of you take his offer. This time you take the responsibility to throw out the trash, the two of them waiting for you by the door. 

You wonder what has been going on nowadays for them to be this worried. Frankly, while you were touched by such concern, you were also frustrated. You know how to protect yourself with or without your vision. You’re not the same helpless child that saw the atrocities of this world. Busy in your thoughts, you don’t see a figure keeping an eye on you from a distance. Just as you look at their direction, it disappears. The familiar feeling of dread doesn’t leave, it lingers and it makes your skin crawl. Quietly, you coat your hands with a thin sheet of ice as you make your way back to the two. 

“You okay?” Wooyoung asks, noticing how alert you’ve become. He sees the ice around your fists and already he’s on high alert, looking around. Yeosang too notices the frost forming around your skin and wonders what you have encountered. 

“Let’s go.” He simply states, making sure that you were walking next to him and Wooyoung. The way your features became so cloudy was a concern but he’ll have to ask Wooyoung for more information for another day. What matters now is your safety. 

--------

It’s only in the safety of his car that Wooyoung starts to freak out again over how loaded Yeosang is. Maintenance for this car model isn’t easily affordable, especially for its size. Did you understand anything of what Wooyoung has been talking about? Vaguely. Yet Yeosang manages to answer everything with ease that you wonder just how much he knows beyond art, and history. 

On the other hand, The ice around your fists has melted into puddles at your feet. “Sorry for the mess..” You say under your breath. Yeosang doesn’t miss a beat about it, saying that they’re rubber so it’s nothing that can be easily cleaned. His tea was already finished by the time the three of you were near your apartment. 

Honestly, if his work hadn’t let him off so late, he could’ve already asked the question already but he’ll have to wait until he arrives outside your apartment. “He knows where we live?” Wooyoung asks, realizing that you didn’t have to give him directions. 

“Yeah, he brought me home after our hangout last time, so I just directed him.” 

He takes pride in his clear memory, smiling to himself as he can already picture the bashful smile of yours as Wooyoung looks at the two of you incredulously. “So when are you guys going to be officially dating?” 

The question causes your heart to race once more, despite your calm exterior. Yeosang as well, appears composed. Yet, the shock of Wooyoung’s honesty can be felt in the car. “Well.” Yeosang speaks up. “That depends on our dear, here, if they would be okay with it.” Just in time, the car slows down to a stop outside your apartment complex. 

You face Yeosang, with your heart beating fast, your hands feel cold even without the frost. “I-I’d like that.” You manage to sputter out. 

“Thank heavens.” Wooyoung exclaims, eyeing the two of you like the relief of an impatient sibling. 

“Can I fancy you to a date soon?” Yeosang says as he unlocks the car, giving Wooyoung the chance to look away from such an exchange.

Ever the cheeky guy, he stays and waits for your answer. 

“I’d like that.” You repeat softly, you couldn’t believe yourself for being able to speak up after such a shocking twist of events. 

“Lovely, I’ll update you then.” Yeosang promises, waving the two of you a good night. 

Wooyoung then hooks his arm around your shoulder as the two of you head back into the safety of your apartment. “About time, the two of you became a thing, he keeps asking me how to properly court you.” He says much to your flustered state. 

Will you be able to sleep tonight?

--------

On the way home, Yeosang’s phone rings. It’s San. 

“Hello? I’m driving. Can this wait?” 

“Depends, are you at a red light or not?” San asks. When San’s voice goes that deep, it’s serious. He eyes the stop light. 

“53 seconds.” 

“The officials found a symbol on the break in. They don’t know what it is yet but gave us a copy in case we see it somewhere.”

49.

“What is it?” Already, Yeosang feels his blood rush to his ears. 

“It’s a severed triquetra symbol.” San doesn’t have to say anything else anymore after that as Yeosang lets out a growl. 

It seems they’ve returned. The question is why. “I’ll be home by 5 minutes. 20 seconds on the red light. I’ll call you.” WIth that he hangs up, in time for the red light to turn green. While people forget the events, he doesn’t. 

It’s been so long since the Abyss has acted up. The last being a few thousand years back. The last few immortals like him and San remember their deeds. The Abyss was responsible for a battle he had to fight that wiped out a huge land mass in the region he now resides in. 

The question that disturbs him: Who or what are they looking for? Because as far as his memory remembers, they stop at nothing to get what they want. 

--------

A field. 

This is the second time you’ve been here. Around you were plants that you don’t see everyday, in fact some of these look very odd to you. As you look around, hoping to make sense of this dream, you see someone dipping their feet into the clear water. 

Just as you approach them, they stand up. It was hard to make out what gender they were: the clothes hang onto them like water slowly freezing, nor did they carry any feature that could separate a man from a woman. They smile at you, as if they’ve been expecting you this entire time. “It’s nice to see you.” They say, voice soft and calming. 

“Apologies for not introducing myself, I’m Aos. I’m sorry I didn’t make myself known a little sooner.” They say. The apology doesn’t make any sense to you as you continue to gaze at them. 

Despite them having introduced themselves to you, the name still doesn’t ring a bell. They don’t seem fazed at all to see your questioning eyes on them, in fact, they chuckle lightly at how confused you look. You manage to get a better look of their eyes and it reminds you of the sky when the sun is barely above the horizon. “What’s happening?” You manage to ask after getting yourself out of your trance. 

“Nothing really. This is just me reaching out to you and giving you my blessing.” Again, the figure speaks in riddles. The last time they did was when Wooyoung’s family took you in, shortly after you were given your vision. You wonder what was going to happen this time. 

The world around you loses its color for a split second and neither of you miss this slip up. “It seems that you’ll wake soon. I won’t make this any longer then, this might be our last meeting. Take care of yourself” The color around you fades into greys and whites, yet they don’t. The way they bid you farewell, reminds you too much of your mother and it makes your eyes hot. 

“When you get the chance, tell him I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.” 

Before you could make some sort of sense, you feel someone shaking you awake. “Hey.” Wooyoung’s voice rouses you awake, and you don’t miss the concern in his voice. “You were crying in your sleep.” He states, seeing how dazed your eyes are as you try to look around, startled. 

That’s when you notice that you were holding onto your bracelet while sleeping, and he was right. Your pillow felt damp with your tears. “Weird dream.” You groan out as you wake yourself up for another day. 

Your phone flashes at 6:30AM, why did Wooyoung wake you up earlier than usual? It’s only then that you realize that it was raining once more. Couldn’t you get a few more minutes of shut eye after such a weird dream? The groggy feeling takes a little longer to shake off but you eventually get yourself out of bed. 

--------

“What’s your plan today?” At least you are finally looking a little more presentable as you enter the living room.

“Choreography teaching for an idol group this morning until afternoon. I can close up the shop for you if you got plans today.” Wooyoung says, teasing you a little now that you’re more awake. 

It’s not hard to miss out on what he insinuates with such that you roll your eyes at him. “It’s not today yet,” referring to your date, “but I need to visit a few shops to buy some ingredients and other stuff by 5PM.” You had plans of opening the shop a little later the following day, wanting to change the interiors even by just a bit. That and having to stay up later than usual to bake and experiment with new recipes was starting to catch up with you. 

“Yeah I can take over by then. I’ll be at the shop by 4:30.” Wooyoung promises. He might have to be a little stricter today to get things finished quickly but the group he’s teaching today are quick learners. He can see so much potential in them too. 

You flash a grateful smile as you eat. “Your overtime’s covered, I promise.” From this, Wooyoung hops around in glee. Of course, he was eyeing a new clothing line. 

A glance at the time and you figured you should get moving. “I’ll see you later then. I need to start moving.” You say standing up from your seat. 

“Lunch is by the counter!” He calls out from his seat as he watches you get your things and shoot out the door. With him now on his own, he lets out a sigh. He heard your mumblings earlier and those were the same words you muttered after you were gifted with your vision. Even when you looked put together for the day, there was still a hint of confusion in your eyes that you can’t quite hide from him. Whatever it is, he hopes things will turn out a little better this time. 

--------

“Can we do three more runs after a five minute water break?” Wooyoung asks, sympathizing with the boys as they’re now drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. After the chorus of agreements, he lets the boys off for a few minutes and decides to check on you and Yeosang. 

[ Wooyoung to You ] How’s work?

[ Wooyoung to Yeosang ] What’s up? Are you gonna drop by later?

It’s only Yeosang who manages to reply immediately. 

[ Yeosang to Wooyoung ] There have been better days, but I will be alright. Yes I will be there later. 

Seeing that you haven’t replied yet, he just chalks it up to rush hour. The boys enter the room and he puts his phone down. “Ready?” He asks just as he’s about to press play, he sees Yunho peeking into the studio. “Uh, give me a moment. Hyunjae, can you clean the choreo slowly while I’m gone? I’ll make it quick.” The male excuses himself to check on his peer, quietly leaving the studio. “What’s up?” 

“Did their manager tell you of the changes to the schedule?” Yunho asks and by the way Wooyoung looks at him with wide eyes and that already tells him what he needs to know. 

“Tomorrow or the day after will be the shooting day.” With such information being told to him, he panics a little, unsure if he has clothes that could fit a recording for this. He probably does but he’ll need your help assembling it. 

“Okay, uh, forward the email to me and cc it to Popsicle.” Somehow the nickname doesn’t faze Yunho, already knowing well that he meant you. It’s not like there were a lot of cryo vision holders anyway. Yunho shoots him an okay signal and Wooyoung takes this as a sign to head back to his work. “Okay, let’s take it to the top? 3 runs at 100% energy then we can eat lunch.” He says as he enters the studio once more. The proposed plan instills a little bit of fear on the boys but he continues on. “No worries, there’ll be a break in between before going at it again.” 

Beneath the calm demeanor he had for the boys right now, he was slightly panicking for his schedule in the next few days. He hopes you wouldn’t mind him being MIA for a day or two. 

Wooyoung’s schedule has turned a little more hectic now thanks to the sudden update of the shooting. Not that he minds since at least he’s not at home whenever he’s not needed in the studio. If it means helping lessen the stress on you and keeping you safe then he doesn’t really mind it. 

Though, he doesn’t know if you’ve been keeping an eye on the news lately. You still carry on with your day like normal. If he has a shift in the dance studio, he asks Yeosang or San to accompany you to the studio, no matter how many times you reassure that it’s okay for you to walk alone, either one of them is adamant about it. 

He spares a glance at the clock as he watches the boys dance. The four hours will fly by quickly. 

--------

“Yeosang, you might have to skip on meeting with them today.” Part 3

[hlcreators]

AUTHOR REC:  jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom 

Be sure to show some love by leaving kudos and comments! 

Seven Simple Words (15k)

It’s not like he and Louis were a couple. No, they might have been a lot of things—best mates and colleagues with a seemingly convenient friends-with-benefits arrangement—but never a couple. It wasn’t Louis’ fault he didn’t feel the same way and couldn’t reciprocate Harry’s feelings in the way he’d wanted, the way he’d needed. Harry had allowed himself to get in too deep, his entire being aching to be loved back by the object of his affections. But in love, as in life, you don’t always get what you want.

OR the one where you don’t always get what you want the first time around, but sometimes the universe decides to give you a second chance at getting it right.

Feels So Right (8.8k)

The emcee leans in between them, handing over his mic to the blue-eyed vision. “You know what? Someday… Someday you guys might thank me for this...”

OR the one where Louis is Troy, Harry is Gabriella, and we find out what really happened after karaoke at that ski resort...

Wonderland (4.3k)

Louis has always loved lazy mornings in bed with his mate, but now that his Omega is carrying their pup, they’ve reached a whole new level of wonderment.

OR the one where Louis loves to worship his Omega’s body and Harry loves to let him.

The Baby Whisperer (18k)

Harry’s newborn baby is having trouble sleeping and nothing he does seems to work. Tired and alone and at his wits end, Harry is at a loss until a new neighbour arrives to turn his world upside down.

OR the one where being neighbourly takes on a whole new meaning.

Fuck U Betta (11k)

There’s something about having Louis like this, exposed and desperate, that makes a primal urge bubble up from deep inside Harry’s chest. Desire mixed with something else, something unquantifiable. It’s the thing that makes them want this, need this. Nothing else will satisfy them or quench their thirst.

OR the one where Harry likes the thrill of the chase, Louis likes to be chased, and everyone gets what they need… in the end.

Caves End (39k)

When a recurring injury cuts short Harry’s time as the Captain of the English Football Team, he needs to rethink his career and his future. His best mate and manager, Niall, decides that what Harry really needs is a change of scenery, time to relax, and to get some perspective on his life. What Harry doesn’t expect is for them to end up in Australia, on a farm, with the most gorgeous man he’s ever laid eyes on.

OR the one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

When Tomorrow Comes (11k)

When Louis and Niall are partnered up to complete a project on Omega scents and how they effect the nesting behaviours of Alphas, little does Louis know that the course of his life is about to be forever altered.

OR the one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

You Drive Me WIld (5k)

Most people would think that keeping a tube of lube hidden behind the driver’s side visor of their car is foolish and completely unnecessary, but then most people don’t have to chauffeur Louis Tomlinson around for a living.

OR the one where Harry has a brilliant idea to while away the time as he waits around for his boss but fate decides to rain on his parade... or maybe it’s the universe answering his prayers.

No Going Back (56k)

Sales reps Harry and Louis are bored with their jobs and their lives. After meeting at a conference in Cardiff they hook up, have a few too many drinks, and jokingly apply to become remote lighthouse keepers. Six months, just the two of them, looking after the southernmost lighthouse off the bottom of Australia. It’s not like their applications will be accepted. Right?

This is the story of how one choice - a left instead of a right, a go instead of a stop, a yes instead of a no - can change the future forever and that sometimes, taking that leap of faith, is worth the risk.

Strong Enough (20k)

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad it’s Liam that's dragging the subject out from the shadows and into the light. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

Shine (13k)

“How does it feel?” Harry asks, genuine curiosity evident in his voice.

Louis lets his eyes drift closed and focuses on the sensations. “It’s like… like I’ve got hands all over me, touching me, inside and out, and…” Louis tries to zone in but it’s so hard to describe. “It’s like I’m being stimulated everywhere all at once.” As if on cue, his nipples and earlobes start tingling and he arches his back. “Oh fuck, yeah.”

OR the one where Louis has a thing for the sun and Harry is more than happy to indulge his sunshine boy.

If You’re Out There (I’ll Find You Somehow) (55k)

Harry looks so intensely into Louis’ eyes it’s as though he’s reaching in and touching his very soul. “I never thought… I never… I’ve been searching for so long, Louis, but I never gave up. I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop trying,” Harry says, bottom lip trembling as he strokes the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “I just knew that if you were out there, I’d find you somehow.”

OR the story of how one man’s love changed the world.

Everything I Do (16k)

Harry’s ready, has been for a while now, and he’s fairly certain Louis is too, it just hasn’t been on the top of their priority list. There have been offhand mentions, a comment here and there, more in jest than anything, no serious discussion or consideration. Harry stands up straighter, a stomach-churning thought forming in his mind. Has Louis been waiting for him to ask?

OR the one where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

Playing To Win (36k)

Big Brother UK alumni Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles are selected for the UK vs Australia All Stars series with a massive one million dollar prize in the offing. They’re both fit and smart and would make a great alliance... if only they can stop their feelings from getting in the way.

OR the one where Louis really doesn’t want to like Harry, Harry is struggling to quell his growing fondness for Louis, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t fight fate.

Exposed (666)

Louis should really stop agreeing to do favours for his friends while drunk, especially when they result in him becoming a live-art model…

Forever And Always (25k)

“Right,” Harry says and slaps his hands down on the kitchen benchtop. Now he just has to get home, find this poor Niall guy who is currently camped out in his body, and have them swapped back. What could possibly go wrong?

OR the one where Harry’s neighbour is a crotchety old witch who hates vampires, Niall is the unsuspecting human who ends up inhabiting Harry’s body, and Louis is the caseworker who is assigned to swap them back. How it ends up a love story is anyone’s guess.

Going My Way (20k)

"Hey Harry. Really sorry to do this to you but an emergency has come up with Vera’s mum and we’ve had to jump a flight home. My mate Louis is going to take over my LYFT clients while I’m away. He’s got my car and my phone and everything else. Hope that’s okay. He’s a good guy and I think you two are going to get along brilliantly. Catch you soon, Benny."

OR the one where Harry gets a replacement LYFT driver, Louis is just trying to earn some extra cash before the baby arrives, and they both end up with way more than they bargained for.

Up For It (18k)

Each year, the five friends take a lads holiday; it’s tradition, and this year is shaping up to be a jam-packed, fun-filled trip with their best mates just like all the rest... or is it?

OR the one where Liam is Mr Organised, Zayn is too perceptive for his own good, Niall is a compulsive matchmaker, and Harry and Louis might just have the surprise to shock them all.

With Words Unspoken (18k)

At forty-nine, Louis hadn’t envisioned being at a crossroads in his life; kids, grandkids, an ex-wife, and completely at a loss as to what direction his future will take. When he finds himself drawn back to a cabin in the Californian wilderness that’d he’d visited fifteen years earlier, an acquaintance from his past triggers an awakening deep inside and reveals a new path that he could never have imagined.

OR The one where Louis is lost, Harry is an excellent tour guide, and age is no barrier to finding the love of your life.

Henry and Lewis (4.3k)

PART 1 SUMMARY: Louis hangs out in his local coffee shop to work on his weekly WordPlay Prompt, speaks to his beloved muse aka Harry the gorgeous barista, embarrasses himself in front of said muse, and receives a comment on AO3 from his favourite reader.

SERIES SUMMARY: Every Tuesday, Louis spends his day off holed up in his favorite coffee-come-bookshop, writing his little stories as part of the WordPlay challenge while daydreaming about the resident barista, Harry. Each week a new word prompt is revealed and Louis adds to his series of short stories about Henry, the owner of a B&B in the Cotswolds who has curly hair and dimples, Lewis, his long term guest who just happens to be a writer, and Tigger, Henry’s cat.

As Louis and Harry’s friendship develops, could his fantasy world spill out into real life? And how does that reader who leaves the lovely comments with the teacup emoji seem to be able to read Louis’ mind?

Smuturdary (4.1k)

Louis struggles with this week's WordPlay prompt before finding inspiration, and a date, in an unexpected place, and could there be more going on with his favourite reader than he originally thought.

Tea For Two (4k)

Louis grapples with what to do about his new found suspicions over his favourite readers real-life identity.

Life Imitating Art (6.8k)

Louis is taken on a very real journey through his fic back catalogue - life has never imitated art so salaciously.

Entertain Me (5.3k)

All good things must come to an end, including the WordPlay challenge. But while Louis has mixed emotions about its end, and struggling to make sense of the final prompt, he is relishing every aspect of his newly revitalised personal life.

Play Me A Memory (26k)

Louis lives with his nine-year-old son Jake in a peaceful beachside community on the east coast of Australia, working as an entertainment coordinator at the local five-star resort. Harry is a recluse who lives on millionaires row and writes musical scores for blockbuster movies. When the roots of a wayward willow tree create havoc at his home, Harry is forced to stay at the resort while repairs are carried out.

Cue matchmaking storms, muffin preferences, laughter, love, and a whole lotta music.

The Cyber Sphere (17k)

As the author of The Cyber Sphere, a series of best-selling books which have spawned seemingly limitless spin-offs, Louis Tomlinson hides away from the world in his fortress-like London penthouse. But when he decides to interact with the host of The Cyber Times radio program, Dermot O’Leary, on Twitter, it causes a fandom meltdown and offers him hope for a future he’d never imagined.

OR the one where Liam likes to think he’s Batman, Dermot has terrible taste in sporting teams, and Louis should really get a cat.

Surprise Me, Space Boy (7.1k)

Louis is a solo officer on Space Station Zeta and the isolation can present many challenges, not least of which is that it’s really bloody hard to date. He’s pinning his hopes on that changing with a fellow solo officer, Harry, from a neigbouring station who gives great banter and has a gorgeous smile. Maybe online dating has its benefits after all?

OR The Space Wank Fic.

Harry Poppins (32k)

When Louis’ best friends pass away he finds himself with an instant family. Maddie and Thomas are wonderful children but take an immediate dislike to every nanny that sets foot inside their house. After nanny number six is summarily dismissed Louis is at his wit’s end, that is until an unusual man arrives on their doorstep. Harry Styles is like nothing any of them have ever encountered before, and perhaps, exactly what they’ve been looking for all along.

My One And Only (Desire) (500)

Harry is his, only his, and Louis belongs to Harry just as completely. They consume each other, in life, in love, in every way two people can.

Take Me Down Slow (Don’t Let Me Go) (26k)

Louis has always felt different. Not necessarily on the outer realm of societal norms, but pretty damn close to the edge. As an Omega, he’s supposed to want certain things; to want to raise a family, to want to build a life with a partner, and to want that partner to be an Alpha.

Well, two out of three ain’t bad.

OR the one where Louis wants to find the right kind of partner to love, Niall hates snowboarding, Liam wants to settle down, Harry is really good with his hands, and mother nature could be the thing that changes everything.

Soup Of The Day (19k)

It had been the single minded goal for them since college and seemed simple enough. 1. Study hard. 2. Open their dream restaurant. 3. Take the culinary world by storm.

What could possibly go wrong?

Or the Restaurant AU where Louis and Niall are chefs, Chicago is windy, and cracking the big time is harder than they ever imagined. But when a mysterious man starts grading Louis' soups by leaving little piles of rocks, could it be just the thing they need to get them on the road to success?

The Clock Strikes New Year (9.6k)

Louis senses people moving around behind him and cranes his neck left to right. The store is quiet, just staff and Louis and Harry, but all of the other salespeople appear to have gravitated to where they are to watch the little runway show Harry is putting on. He can’t blame them really, Harry is a sight to behold, but it makes him chuckle anyway.

“Okay, Lou, you ready for me?” Harry calls from the change room.

“As I’ll ever be, baby. Get out here!”

Harry comes into view and Louis’ breath catches in his throat.

OR Harry was homeless, but now he has Louis. Louis was lonely, but now he has Harry. And there’s more than one way to see fireworks on New Year’s Eve.

The Bet (2.4k)

Louis Tomlinson never reneges on a bet. Ever.

He may be many things - a joker, a sometimes-wayward student, a loyal friend, a Tony Award winner in the making, and a card-carrying member of the Chad Michael Murray fan club - but never, ever, a welcher. Louis makes good on his promises and does it with flare.

OR The one where Louis misjudges Harry's ability to do TLC's Waterfall rap and finds himself having to put on a one-man show for his viewing pleasure. If Louis decides to go all-in and dress the part, then that's just a bonus for his (very appreciative) one-man audience.

Heat (2.4k)

Louis was smitten from the moment Harry had arrived a month ago. Long, curly hair which he mostly keeps up in a bun, and a sinfully deep voice. Cheeky too. Louis likes that the best. He gives good banter and laughs at Louis’ dumb jokes, adding his own woeful puns. When Louis had asked him why he was in this godforsaken dust bowl, he’d said something about a ground crew traineeship and fulfilling his visa requirements while experiencing the real Australia. Louis had been momentarily distracted by Harry’s plush, red-bitten lips so the salient details may have washed over him.

OR Drinking beer in a blow-up pool, in a backyard, in stupidly hot temperatures, in outback Australia should be ridiculous, and it would be, if Louis didn't have a curly-haired workmate to keep him company.

Whisper The Wind (36k)

Louis’ father has political ambitions and decides it’s time for Louis to step up as the company’s Chief Financial Officer. Louis thinks this is a monumentally stupid idea. After storming off in a rage he has a chance meeting with a tall, dark, curly haired stranger. A technical glitch with their shared elevator finds Louis spending twenty minutes with the most intriguing man he’s ever met. Unfortunately the man is leaving London the very next day and moving to Australia to work at his mates surf school. Timing, as they say, can fuck right off.

Fast forward three years and Louis is miserable, a shadow of the man he once was, working in his father’s company, and hating every moment. At his thirtieth birthday party, surrounded by people he doesn’t know or doesn’t like, he decides to throw it all in and follow the impossible dream. Happiness, a fulfilling life, and someone to love. The question is, will that dream be found ten thousand miles away on a sandy beach, with a curly headed surfer dude?

Or the one where Louis rides an elevator that may change his life forever, Harry loves the ocean but is a terrible surfer, Liam proves not all heroes wear capes, and Niall might actually have all the answers.

The Clock Strikes Christmas (10k)

The clock ticks over to midnight and Niall strikes the match, lighting the candle and looking expectantly at Louis. “Time to make all your dreams come true. What’s your birthday wish Tommo?”

Louis stares into the flame and wonders. Closing his eyes, he thinks of cold winter nights curled up by the fire, driving along country roads holding hands across the console, laughter and warmth and a sense of belonging. An image creeps into his mind, blurry and shimmering. Curls, green eyes, milky white skin. Louis sucks in a deep breath, opens his eyes and blows.

The lights in the pub go out and the music stops, time seems to be teetering on the edge of something, like the crest of a roller coaster before the fall.

Then the pub surges back to life. “Sorry about that folks! Damn storm must be coming.” The bartender shouts out.

Niall is staring at him, mouth agape, before regaining his composure. “Must’ve been a helluva wish Tommo.”

Louis is a little stunned himself, but blinks out of it and laughs. “Yeah, must’ve been.”

OR the one where Louis needs someone to love, Harry needs a miracle, and sometimes, wishes really do come true

The Prince Of Light (35k)

Louis was found abandoned at a hospital at six months old and adopted by an older couple who raised him. Now twenty, he studies by night and by day works as a live-in au pair for a family with three little girls. One of the girls, Holly, swears there is a Garden Fairy coming and eating treats she leaves out in the cubby house each night.

When the family goes away for a two week holiday, Louis is secretly tasked with feeding the Fairy. While laying out the food one night he falls from the cubby house and is found by Harry. Harry is different and Louis is fascinated. But as Louis learns how different Harry really is, he discovers his own true home and a very surprising past he never knew.

Cue badgers, bananas and cookies, soulmates, a whole other world, and a future he’d never imagined.

Clouds On Curtis (9.6k)

A wave of comfort sweeps over Louis like a blanket as he allows himself a moment to imagine the possibilities. His past failures and disappointments feel like they are ebbing away, like shackles falling from his limbs. The burdens he's been bearing and the guilt he’s been carrying slipping away into the ground with each step he takes.

Harry reaches for the door and pauses, holding the handle he turns to face Louis.

“Are you ready for the adventure to begin?” Harry looks at him with hope in his eyes, dimple cratering in his left cheek.

“Absolutely, I’m all yours.” Louis says, wide smile breaking across his face, feeling the crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes.

In that moment he is sure of it. Surer than he's been about anything for years. This is exactly where he’s supposed to be. This is his second chance.

Or the one where Louis is a chef who is looking for a chance to start over, Harry’s restaurant needs the right chef to make his dream come to life, Niall is a cook who desperately wants to be a chef, and Liam just wants to be happy. Together, can they turn their dreams into reality?

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 3: Sweet Anticipation

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,965

Summary: You and Bucky continue getting to know each other and every day you fall a little harder...

Author’s Note: Thank you all for coming on this journey with me. Happy to see you’re enjoying it! It’s a sloooowwww burn but I promise things will move along soon. There is a bunch of texting between the reader and Bucky in this chapter so I put those in italics. I tend to use a ton of emojis when I text so it happened in the story as well haha :) Thank you for reading! Much love❤❤❤

Warnings: fluffy softness, small amount of angst, light flirting, but mostly the fluffy sweet stuff! :)

Previous Chapters: 

Chapter 1: Enchantment

Chapter 2: Cookie Crumble 

You’re still smiling as you finish folding the laundry, your thoughts never far from Bucky and his soft smile. The ding of your phone pulls you from your latest daydream, your smile only widening when you read the text, ‘you know what would make this tea even better…. A COOKIE.’ Bucky’s text is followed by a picture of him holding up his mug, complete with a ridiculously cute disgruntled face.

‘O m g, you are so dramatic! Don’t you have any other cookies?’ You send your reply along with a kissy face emoji to ensure he knows your tone is playful. His answer is almost instant, “I don’t….and someone ATE ALL THE COOKIES I HAD.’ He promptly sends a third text with two kissy faces, clearly playing along.

Curling up on the couch and giggling like a teenager you continue to tease each other over text, easily falling into a conversation about food and your love for baking. When you finally look up from your phone you realize it’s been almost two hours and the sun has set. Your apartment is dark other than the small light in the kitchen. ‘As much as I would love to talk to you all night, I have to go shower and get my stuff ready for the work week 😊.’

Bucky’s response comes a little slower this time, ‘good thinking, that went fast 🙂 and I wish we could talk all night too.’ Your heart does a little flip at his last text and your mind is foggy as you try to come up with a good response. He beats you to it. ‘Enjoy your shower and sweet dreams 😍. Feeling your cheeks heat you quickly reply, ‘thanks, you too, goodnight 😘’.

Putting down your phone you practically float into the bathroom, twirling around like Cinderella after the ball. It’s only when you do one last twirl, this time into the doorframe, that you effectively break yourself out of the spell. You let out a string of curses, rubbing your shoulder but thinking with a smile, I can’t wait to tell Bucky about this.

Monday morning hits you hard, thoughts of Bucky keeping you awake for too long and your alarm going off way too early. The minute your eyes open you want to grab your phone to text him but when you go to do so you find he once again beat you to it, ‘morning y/n, hope you have a great day.’ The smile you’re wearing for the rest of the morning is borderline obnoxious, but you could care less as you two continue to text throughout the workday.

You notice that he’s much less shy over text. His use of emoji’s and sweet endearments makes it easy to flirt. The week goes by surprisingly quickly. You talk to Bucky every day, getting to know each other more and more. It isn’t until Thursday rolls around that you get the idea to bake him some of your awesome chocolate chip cookies. It’s also a perfect excuse to stop by the bookshop Friday after work.

After rushing home to wash up and change you pack a big tin of the cookies and head out. The day is beautiful and warm, and you can’t help your smile as you walk to the bookshop. Peeking through the large front windows you see Bucky behind the counter cashing out a customer. His chocolate brown hair falls in front of his face and your fingers itch to tuck it back behind his ear.

He looks up just at that moment, locking eyes with you as you stare. Giving you a sideways smirk, he says goodbye to the customer and walks around the counter as you enter the shop. Before you have a chance to think about how to greet him, he wraps his arms around you and gives you a big squeeze, pulling away to place a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Momentarily stunned you stand there with your mouth slightly agape, trying to find the strength to speak. “Are those cookies?!?” Bucky cheers, grabbing the tin and your hand as he drags you back toward the reading nook. “They are! I made my famous chocolate chip cookies I was telling you about. I made you a whole batch, so you know, you have some for tea and coffee,” you finish with a smirk.

He turns to you with a huge grin, “thank you, I can’t wait to taste them.” Those last words come out in a deeper tone, his eyes darting to your lips as he watches you intently. Clearing his throat, he quickly adds, “want me to make some tea?” You give him a nod, smiling as you watch him walk away, the blush he was trying to hide giving him away all too easily.

You watch as he takes the first bite, his eyes closing as he makes approving sounds. “Wow, y/n. Listen, don’t tell Sarah but these are the best chocolate chip cookies ever. It’s a good thing you made me so many.” He pops the last bite into his mouth, reaching into the tin to grab another, “want a bite?” “I may or may not have eaten a couple for breakfast this morning but one more won’t hurt.” Before you can reach to grab your own, he lifts one to your lips, “here.”

Taking a bite and chewing slowly, you try to keep your composure, wanting nothing more than to crawl into his lap and kiss him. “You have a little something here,” he says, reaching up to brush his thumb over the corner of your mouth. “Again!? Really? It seems I can’t eat cookies without making a mess when you’re around,” you laugh, dipping your head to try and hide your own blush. “Actually, no. You didn’t. Your lips just look so soft and I…”

The sound of the bell over the door and someone frantically yelling for Bucky has you both jumping up and running to the front. A tall blonde with wide blue eyes yells, “Buck, there you are. Listen, I….” he turns to you, “oh hey, sorry to bust in like this, I’m Steve,” he says holding out his hand. Bucky finally speaks, “Steve, this is y/n.” Steve’s whole face lights up and he pulls you into a hug, “y/n! I’ve been hearing about you all week, so nice to meet you.”

With a wide smile you hug Steve back, “nice to meet you too Steve! Bucky shared some of your moms amazing cookies with me the other day, which I’m sure he told you about…” You give Bucky a look, knowing full well he told Steve you ate all the cookies. “Well yea, he may have mentioned that you ate all of them,” he chuckles.

“Good thing I made more; they aren’t your moms’ recipe, but Bucky seems to like them.” Your eyes catch Bucky’s and you give him a sly grin, “in fact, Bucky said they…” Bucky cuts you off before you can finish the sentence, “Steve, why did you come in here yelling for me, what’s up?” Steve gives you a lopsided grin, but it turns to a frown as he looks at Bucky.

“It’s grandma, she fell and she’s at the hospital. She’s ok! So, stay calm but I knew you would want to get over there asap.” Bucky moves with determined speed to grab his belongings, “what!?! What happened, are you sure she’s ok? Steve runs a hand through his hair, “she’s ok, Buck, I promise, but she in pain. I didn’t get a ton of info; I just came here first.”

Bucky turns to you, his eyes wide with fear, “I’m so sorry y/n, I have to go. I promise I’ll text you as soon as I can.” Steve gives you one last smile before heading to the door, “I’m sorry we have to run off like this but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.” Bucky runs over and pulls you in for a tight hug. “Everything will be ok, Bucky,” you whisper in his ear, kissing his cheek, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You head out in front of Steve as Bucky shuts the lights and puts the “closed for emergency” sign on the door. With one more wave you watch as the two of them jog down the street to hail a cab, hoping more than anything that his grandma is ok.

The rest of the afternoon drags as you wait for any word from Bucky, your stomach in knots. It’s not until you sit down with your takeout that you get a text from him. ‘Hey doll, so grandma is ok. She fell going up the steps to her apartment building and hit her knee and hand hard. Nothing is broken, thankfully but she’s pretty banged up, so they just want to keep her overnight to monitor her.’

You let out a loud sigh, typing your reply quickly, ‘oh thank goodness she’s ok, I’m so happy to hear it isn’t too bad. Please tell her hello for me and I hope she feels better.’ He answers right away, ‘thanks, me too, sorry to run out on you like that, talk about bad timing 😉. And she says, thank you, she’ll be home in no time and ready to cook us dinner.’

You’re still reeling from his ‘bad timing’ comment, hoping above all hope that you aren’t reading too much into this and he likes you as much as you like him. ‘Tell me about it! And really, it’s nothing to be sorry for, I’m just so glad she’s ok and dinner sounds amazing!’ He sends you back a single heart, sending your own into a frenzy. ‘Have a good night and text me if you need anything, I’ll check in tomorrow 💕.’

‘Thanks doll 😘.’ You put your phone down and try to finish your dinner but find it difficult with the butterflies in your stomach. Picking up your phone again you dial your best friend, hoping some girl talk will help. You spend the next hour on the phone with Nat, telling her all about Bucky in between squeals and giggles.

Saturday morning you wake to a text from Bucky, ‘morning beautiful, grandma had a great night and is coming home soon! Also, I was wondering what you were doing for lunch today, I would love to take you out.’ Flying out of bed you call Nat, talking a mile a minute as you fill her in. “I mean, we have our girl’s day so I have to tell him no, but we can just reschedule,” you squeal into the phone as you pace your apartment.

After solidifying your plans with Nat, you text Bucky back, ‘that’s the best news, I’m so happy! I would love to go to lunch with you, but I have plans with my best friend for the day, can I take a rain check?’ You try not to freak out while you wait, worried he is going to back off.

‘That sounds fun and I completely understand, what about tomorrow? We can hang at the bookstore before closing then go to dinner from there if you want.’ Doing a little dance, you type back, ‘sounds perfect, can’t wait! 😍.’ His text bubbles pop up right away, ‘me either, I’m gonna get back to the hospital to get grandma and get her home but I’ll text you later ❤.’

You spend the rest of the day riding your high, your excitement over your day with Nat and date with Bucky keeping you energized. “So, there is this bar that recently opened on the lower East side, want to go tonight? We can go shopping, buy new outfits and have some fun!” Smiling at her through your mouthful of food you give her a high five, “yesssss!”

Once you’re dressed and ready to go you text Nat a picture, ‘all set, I’ll grab a cab and head to you.’ Her reply makes you laugh out loud, ‘too bad you aren’t seeing Bucky tonight, you look HOT🔥 .’ You consider sending Bucky the picture but before you can make a decision another text from Nat comes through, ‘do not send that picture to Bucky unless you want to torture his life 😉 😇😏.’

@aesthetical-bucky @book-dragon-13 @irishflutiegirl​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @eurynome827​ @flyawaybay @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @ikaris-whore​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewelofwinter​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @marvelgirl7​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @nano--raptor​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My Love Don't Cost a Thing

Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have been together since he started his business. He's a big time CEO and, over the course of time, he's become, he thinks, not that great looking anymore. So he begins to buy you anything and everything you want in hopes that it'll make you stay with him.

It was a Saturday morning and you were surprised to find that your boyfriend of several years was nowhere to be found. 

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and called out, “Buck?” you listened for a moment for any reply or sound, but nothing. 

You frowned, reaching over to your bedside and swiping up your phone. You see that you received a text from Bucky so you answer it:

Bucky Baby: morning, babe! i got called into work for an emergency meeting. breakfast is on counter as well as a little something else. love you!!

You softly smiled and proceeded to slide out of bed, stretching your arms above your head. You then made your way to the kitchen and instantly smelled Bucky’s blueberry pancakes that you loved so much. 

Beside your plated breakfast was a gift bag with the famous Prada logo on it. You can’t help but sigh because you’ve noticed that Bucky’s been getting you a lot of expensive gifts lately. You appreciate it, but you don’t really need thousand dollar bags and clothes. 

You opened the bag and appreciated the item that you pulled out. It wasn’t too fancy, more like a casual streetwear kind of bag. One that you know that’s been trending for a while. 

You set it back into the bag and sat at the counter, proceeding to dig into your breakfast. As you ate, you typed up a message to Bucky:

You: morning, babe! thanks for the bag. again, you really don’t have to buy me extravagant gifts! I’m totally fine with flowers and chocolates. Nonetheless, thank you. i love you and have a good day at work! hope it’s nothing too bad. 

It’s seconds after you set your phone back down that you receive a reply back:

Bucky Baby: i just love to spoil ya. you deserve the best, baby. ;D

You sigh, texting back a kissy face emoji and then back to eating your breakfast. 

______________ 

Bucky let out a breath of relief when you told him that you appreciated the gift. Despite you saying you’d appreciate the little things, Bucky felt like he had to spoil you with luxurious things. Why? 

Well, first off, he’s the CEO of the prosthetic company he built from the ground up after getting discharged from the army after getting his left arm blown off. Because he was the CEO, he ended up earning a lot of money, money that he could spend on you. 

Second, with work taking up a lot of his time, Bucky ended up gaining a lot of weight. He ate a lot of takeout food and hardly had time to go to the gym. He no long looked like the strong, fit, handsome guy you met several years ago. Now there was a little bit more chub to his cheeks, arms, thighs, and bellies. 

You’ve never stopped reminding him how handsome he is nor have you ever stopped being intimate with him, but still. Bucky knows that his attractiveness was what first brought you two together and now that he isn’t at that level anymore, he’s sure you’ll eventually leave him for it. And that terrifies him because you’re his world. The thought of losing you breaks his heart. 

So he tries to make up his lack in looks with his plentiful bank account. So far, you haven’t made the slightest indication that you want to break up, so that’s good, right?

________________

Bucky should’ve been home by now. It was almost 6pm and your reservations for dinner were at 6:30. You were dressed and ready to go, but Bucky wasn’t even home. When the doorbell rang at 6:20, you were hoping it would be Bucky, but you were sorely mistaken. 

“Y/N L/N?” the young man was holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a takeout bag, and a gift bag with the Louis Vuitton label on it.

“Yeah?”

“Mister Barnes sends his apologies. He won’t be able to make it to dinner, but he ordered your favorite.” he handed you the flowers and the bags and nodded, “Have a good night, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled somberly and closed the door. 

You went over to the kitchen, setting your things down and plucking your phone off the counter, dialling Bucky’s number. 

“Hey, honey,” you can hear the exhaustion in his voice and you feel pity towards him. 

You sigh, rubbing your forehead, “Hey, Buck.”

“You get my gifts?”

“Mhm, see about that, I think we need to have a talk, Bucky.” 

Hearing those words from you, made Bucky’s heart drop to his stomach, “Is-Is something wrong?”

“Yes? No? Kinda? Ugh, I just-” you took a deep breath and collected your thoughts, “I want to have this conversation in person. So when you get home, we’ll talk. If I’m asleep, just wake me up. Okay?”

With a stuttered breath, he replies, “O-Okay. I’ll probably be here for another hour or two.”

“That’s fine.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I know, Bucky.” you ended the call without saying ‘I love you’ back to him and Bucky started to panic. 

They hate the gifts. They’re going to break up with you. They’re tired of pretending to love you. It’s over.

For the next two hours, those thoughts kept running through his head, so by the time he arrived back home, the luxurious home he bought for the both of you, he began to truly prepare for the worse. 

He gulped and cautiously moved towards the living room where he heard the TV on, “Y/N?”

You looked over the couch and softly smiled at him. You picked up the remote and paused the show you were watching on Netflix, “Hey,” you got up, greeting him and kissing his cheek, “Everything at work turn out okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah, uh, Parker rewired one of the prototypes wrong, which means our production date is pushed back.”

You rubbed your hand up and down his bicep, “Sorry to hear that.”

He shrugged, “It happens,” he then gulped down, “So, uh, you wanted to talk?”

“Mhm,” you took his hand, leading him to the couch, both of you sitting down, “So, I noticed you’ve been buying me a lot of stuff lately-”

“Do you not like them? I can return them and get you something better or-”

“-No, no. Bucky, hey, that’s not it. While I do appreciate everything you’ve given me, I don’t need them. And, I’ve been having thoughts.”

“What kind of thoughts?”

You sigh, looking away from him, trying to figure out how you want to say this, “Every time you cancel a date or you have to suddenly leave for work, you end up giving me something expensive and I just-I don’t know. I feel like you’re trying to buy my love, which I don’t understand because I already love you.”

“I’m not trying to buy your love,” Bucky says, scooting closer to you, “Well, maybe I was. I-I-” it was his turn to take a deep breath and collect his thoughts. 

“We’ve been together for seven years. When we first got together I was this fit guy that oozed sex appeal and now, I’m pretty sure I don’t ooze anything other than sweat.”

You look at him confused, “Bucky..what?”

He scoffed, “C’mon, Y/N. You have eyes. I’ve gained a lot of weight since we first got together. You probably don’t think I’m as hot and sexy as I used to be.”

“Okay, first off, that’s not true. Second, so you buying me all this stuff was to, what, make sure that I stay with you? Bucky, we’ve been together for so long and you really think that money and expensive gifts will persuade me to stay with you?”

“Maybe, I don’t know, Y/N! I just-I feel like I need to provide you something! I don’t give you anything nice to look at, we barely see each other at home anymore, I rarely take you out on dates. I’m trying to make sure you don’t leave me.” he says the last part with watery eyes and a broken tone. 

“Bucky,” you cup his round cheeks in your hands and look deep into his deep blue eyes, “I love you. I loved you when you struggled to accept yourself after getting discharged from the army. I loved you when you were struggling to find a job that would stick. I loved you when you came up with the idea for your company. I loved you when you had trouble looking for investors. I loved you when you opened your company. I loved you through it all and I love you now. 

“I knew that being with you while you started up and ran your company would mean sacrificing parts of you and I was fine with it. I’m still okay with it because you’re doing something that you love and something that will help so many people. What I’m not okay with is that you think you should buy my love, when it’s already something you have.

“Sure, you’ve gained weight and that’s fine. I still find you incredibly handsome and sexy. Did last night not give you that impression?” you asked with a chuckle and he just shrugs.

“I sometimes think that you’re just pretending to be attracted to me.”

“I promise you, babe, that’s not the case at all. I love you, Bucky Barnes. Whether you’re broke or rich, chubby or skinny. I love you and I’ll always love you.” you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips and Bucky sighs. 

“How did I land someone amazing as you?”

“I know right? I’m such a catch!” you giggle and Bucky joins you, leaning in for another kiss. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for thinking expensive things would make you love me.”

“I forgive you. And I meant what I said earlier, Buck. I’m a simple person. Flowers, chocolates, and teddy bears appeal to me so much better than fancy clothes and accessories.”

“So if I proposed to you with an expensive ring-”

You laughed, “Bucky, you could propose to me with a ringpop and I’d still say yes.”

“Noted,” he says with a soft smile, love shining in his eyes. You were right, you’re a complete and total catch and Bucky’s lucky to have someone like you.

[hale-13]

Violation of Order

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 14 - Hair Grabbing

Peter settled earlier than anyone else he knew and he could only attribute it to one person. Since then, he and Zara had a hard time being more than a few feet away from each other - he needed her close to protect her from ever going through that again.

Words: 2151, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Tony Stark

TW: Non-Consensual Touching, Implied Sexual Assault, Panic Attacks

Daemon AU

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Contrary to what popular scientific and psychological research would imply, Peter settled early.

Zara had always enjoyed shifting, bouncing between fifteen to twenty forms a day to whatever suited her fancy in the moment and taking great pleasure in trying every fantastical creature she and Peter could dream up. Peter was always one of the smallest of his peers so she liked to be big and intimidating compared to those around him.

Well, until his parents died.

After that Zara tended to prefer small and agile creatures, animals that could hide in Peter’s pockets or the hood of his jacket – where they could get skin to skin contact. Snakes that could coil around his arms, birds that could nest in his ratty hair, ferrets that could curl up around his neck and tickle his chin. Peter didn’t mind the extra comfort, he and Zara were always extremely close but they couldn’t stand to be more than a few feet from each other after he came to live with May and Ben.

Skip’s daemon had been a wolf – an odd sight in New York – and had held Zara tight in her jaws to get Peter to comply.

Zara had screamed and cried and shifted and clawed at the other daemon to get away resulting in Skip gripping her tightly in one fist and tossing her into the wall. Peter and Zara had screamed in unison at the unwelcome touch and had been stunned enough for Skip to get what he wanted.

When Zara settled into an opossum later that night they had cried together for their lost childhoods. For growing up too quickly. For knowing that it was probably going to happen again and feeling helpless to stop it. Sen and Lotte, May and Ben’s daemons had cuddled and groomed Zara the next day, trying to offer what comfort they could while May and Ben tried to get through to Peter. It wasn’t until months later that Zara finally spoke up on Peter’s behalf to save them.

Peter’s been through a lot in his life but the only thing that came close to have his soul manhandled was the Bite and Ben’s subsequent death.

At the single Easter Mass May had taken him too in his early years living with his aunt and uncle, the priest had described death as beautiful – the entry into the next life. The dust from the deceased’s daemon a shower of blessings on the ones they loved. The dust from Lotte, a beautiful yellow lab, was the least beautiful thing Peter had ever seen as it mixed with the blood coating the ground and settled into his and Zara’s hair. The sight of it washing off and down the drain later was even worse.

Peter’s main goal as Spider-Man became protecting others from having to experience something similar.

“Peter!” Ned said, pulling Peter out of his wandering and back into the present. His macaw daemon, Veerle, was flaring her scarlet plumage and adjusting her wings to balance better on his best friend’s shoulder and trying to peer into Peter’s hood where Zara had been snoozing through the last of his classes. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“Uh… yeah of course!” Peter cringed at the obvious lie in his voice and glared at Veerle who snickered at him. Ned just rolled his eyes.

“I was saying we should meet up tomorrow afternoon to get a head start on that project from Harrington. I can’t take the stress of procrastinating again,” Ned told him dramatically, elbowing him lightly in the side as they exited the doors to Midtown and started walking in the direction of Ned’s house.

“It’s not due for a month,” Peter pointed out, shivering as Zara shifted in his hood, wrapping her tail around his neck and propping her head up to rest on his shoulder with a yawn.

“That’s what you said last time,” she pointed out and Peter flicked her on the nose with a scoff of betrayal, ignoring his friend’s laughing. “Hey!”

“Whose side are you on here huh?” He asked in mock anger before breaking out in a smile. It had been a while since he and Ned had had the opportunity to hang out as just the four of them – too long in fact. Peter was excited for the weekend that they had planned; a pizza and movie marathon of some classic Sci-if and now, assumingely, some homework. Whatever, they were still going to have a great time. All Peter needed to do was a quick evening patrol and he was done for the weekend.

“Ned,” Zara answered, rubbing her nose dramatically with a paw. Peter rolled his eyes at her as he started scoping for a good alley to change in that was close to Ned’s house, spotting a good one not too far ahead.

“I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours and then I can get started on my part,” Peter promised Ned as he made his way to the alley. “I promise this time.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Ned said with an eye roll, his face a little pinched but still indulgent. “Try not to get stabbed this time.”

“No promises,” Peter muttered as they parted. Not that he would tell Ned if he did get injured anyway; he kept a pretty decent first aid kit with him at all times and he felt pretty confident that he could hide any injury from his friend until it completely healed. The alley he ducked into was empty except for the couple beaten dumpsters that Peter hid behind to change into his suit, offering his open back for Zara to climb into. Patrolling with her wasn’t always the easiest but they had settled into a rhythm for the most part.

Firing a web, Peter took off into Queens, hoping for a relaxing afternoon.

————————————————

It was nearing eleven when Ned sent his obligatory ‘I told you so’ text complete with eye roll emoji that Peter left on read just for the principal of the thing. It had been a busy Friday evening and had only just started to slow down enough for Peter and Zara to take a breather – he was thankful May was working tonight so he wouldn’t get caught inevitably breaking his curfew.

“I think we’re done,” Zara told him with a yawn, her head poked out the top of his book bag and looking over his shoulder as Peter leisurely swung from web to web heading, vaguely, toward home.

He hummed. “One more quick scan,” he compromised and Zara grumbled a little but didn’t protest when he said “Got anything for me K?”

“Sure thing Peter,” Karen’s chirpy voice replied. “An emergency call was just placed two blocks away for a possible mugging in progress.”

“Throw it up on the screen for me,” Peter said, hopping off the roof he was perched on and swinging toward the blinking red dot on his HUD as quickly as he could. Zara sighed from his backpack and kept her head poked out to observe. Muggings weren’t (normally) that big of a deal so she didn’t really hide in the bag as much for those – unless it started to get really hairy.

“That’s all I have! I promise I don’t have anything else!” A man’s voice yelled, the timbre trembling and terrified as Peter swung onto the scene. The victim couldn’t have been much older than Peter and he and his robin daemon were pressed as tightly to the dirty brick wall as they could get, trying to stay away from the mugger brandishing a knife and his corgi daemon – growling and snarling between his legs.

“Lovely evening right gentlemen?” Peter quipped as he dropped to the ground in a crouch a few feet away. “Perfect time to get into a little larceny am I right?”

“This doesn’t involve you Spider-Man,” the mugger said, turning to face Peter instead, his daemon showing her teeth. Zara, head still poked out of his backpack, hissed loudly in return and scuttled up to sit on Peter’s shoulder, anchoring herself with her tail around his neck and digging her sharp little claws into his suit.

“You know,” Peter told him conversationally, standing and trying to telepathically communicate to the victim to make his escape out the other end of the alley. “That’s what they all say but I just can’t seem to mind my own business,” he shrugged as if to say ‘oh well’ and took a step closer. The victim had started edging out of the alley so Peter needed to keep up with the distraction until he was safe. “Now how’s about you put the knife away and I’ll web you to the wall and we all leave here friends?”

The mugger scoffed and turned to look at his victim with a ‘can you believe this guy’ expression on his face before it darkened at the sight of his escaping prey.”Hey!” He yelled, turning fully and reaching out to grab the man – knife raising threateningly. Peter, in an act of desperation, jumped in between them causing the man to grab onto Zara by the scruff of the neck instead.

Peter nearly dropped to the ground under the pain of feeling someone grabbing onto his bare soul and Zara screamed and hissed in the man’s grip, finally biting him on the wrist so he dropped her to the ground, some of her course hair still stuck to his palm and flaking off in pieces. Looking horrified and sick himself, the man took off with his corgi daemon whimpering at his heels leaving Peter alone.

Peter let out a sob, his skin still crawling, and curled up into a tight ball. The last time anyone had touched Zara had been Skip when he had… when he…

“Your heart rate has reached unacceptable levels,” Karen’s clear voice cut through. “Mr. Stark is on his way.”

Peter gasped in response (he couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t he breathe?) and reached out blindly for where Zara was curled up and trembling a few feet away, scooping her into his chest and pressing his masked face into the fur of her side.

“Peter Mr. Stark is three minutes out but you need to control your breathing,” Karen told him gently. “Please follow the prompts on the screen – in for four, hold seven, out eight.”

Peter couldn’t even breathe in for one second let alone four but he tried to follow Karen’s directions – having Zara back in his arms where he could run his fingers through her hair and try to get rid of the unwanted touch that he could still feel phantom echos of helped some but not enough. By the time Tony landed with Silon in his arms a few minutes later Peter hadn’t really managed to improve his mental state by much.

“Oh Pete,” Tony said sadly, stepping out of the suit and kneeling down in front of Peter. “I’m so sorry kiddo.” Peter just let out a loud sob in response but didn’t protest Tony pulling his mask carefully over his head and running calloused fingers through his hair. Silon, Tony’s large serval daemon, cautiously curled over Peter to begin nuzzling Zara, his purr sounding comforting but sad.

“He touched her,” Peter forced out, nearly gagging as he said it, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks for Tony to rub away with his thumbs. “He grabbed her.”

“I know buddy, I saw,” Tony confirmed, levering Peter up to sit cross-legged with his back to the wall and Zara coiled in his lap. “I know there’s nothing I can say that will help but I’ve got Happy on the way. We’re going back to the Tower and we’re going to watch Star Wars and you’re going to cuddle with her okay? It’ll help.”

Peter nodded erratically, gripping Zara tighter for a moment and then releasing her when she reached out one of her paws to Silon. He let her climb onto his back and grip onto him with all four limbs and tail, craning his neck back to groom her gently. “The last person to touch her was… it was… I didn’t want…”

“I know Petey,” Tony told him as he pulled him in for a firm hug that Peter was quick to reciprocate, clinging onto his mentor just as tightly as Zara was to Silon. “I know buddy, just let it out.”

There were some things that Tony Stark could fix – Peter could trust him to try to fix just about any problem he was presented with – but Peter knew that this would be one of those things that would be cracked inside of him forever. Something that no one besides Peter and Zara could work on and something that would always haunt them. But, sitting there with his mentor in one of the dirty alleys of Queens, Peter thought he could feel it mending.